Pulling Jonnen down with her, she hit the bottom of the outflow pipe with a dull clunk. Mia sank like a stone in her armor, weighed down by black iron and sodden falcon’s wings. It left her dizzied and sick-she could still feel that blinding sunslight in the sky above. And Mia reached toward the outflow in the arena floor-the wide spout from which all that salt and water flowed and she But even with those three awful suns in the sky, even with all the outrage of the Everseeing pouring down, her own shadows were with her. Truelight was so bright, even here beneath the surface. She could sense the serpentine shadows of stormdrakes, cruising toward her through the murk. Her little brother, Jonnen, was struggling, punching, wriggling in her arms like a landed fish. She’d hit the water hard, the sights and sounds of Godsgrave Arena swallowed up as she plunged beneath the surface. But through it all, the screams, the roars, the rage, Mia Corvere had known only triumph. The greatest games in Godsgrave’s history had ended with the most audacious murders in the history of the entire Republic.

The mob howling, bewildered and outraged at the murders of their grand cardinal, their beloved consul, both at the hands of their revered champion. The waters of the flooded arena below, crimson with blood. The light of the three suns above, burning and blinding. She’d fallen so far, her little brother in her arms, fingers still sticky and red. Eight years of poison and murder and shit.Įight years of blood and sweat and death.

Darkdawn by Jay Kristoff