Ecko Endgame by Danie Ware Read Free Book Online Page B

the message. You told us!” She looked back at the city’s Lord, gave a short laugh like the edge of hysteria. “That bit’s supposed to be
over—
”
    Ecko snorted, loud and confrontational, echoing in the empty hall. When they all stared at him, eyes upon eyes, he bared his teeth.
    “Yeah an’ the bad guys never come back after you kill ’em.” He grinned, malicious. “Answer me this – this Kiss, Kas, this Vahl must-be-a-bad-guy-’cause-his-name’s-got-a-‘z’-in-it – what’s he want?”
    “Fhaveon,” Nivrotar said. “To defeat his brother and cast down the city of Saluvarith—”
    “Fuck legend.” Ecko was agitated. He was onto something and he wasn’t sure what – it was like throwing a hot piece of metal from hand to hand. “When he got the city, what was he gonna do with it? Open schools? Build social housing projects, what? Hold an open-house party for all his daemon buddies?” His own jibe brought him up short – something had just occurred to him. “Like
Tarvi
?”
    Triqueta flinched, said nothing.
    Nivrotar watched Ecko. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean…” The new thought was gathering pace; as he spoke, he understood what it was that he was trying to say. “Shit! Like – how many of these fuckers are there? Were there? Really? You talk about Vahl and the Kas, and we’ve seen – what – two? One big an’ one little? Where are the
rest
of them? The army of Kiss Vahl Thingies, the army of Tarvis just waitin’ to
snog
everything to death. I
mean—
”
    “You mean, where are his friends?” Amethea’s voice was soft as the smothering pillow.
    “Something else you’ve
forgotten
?” Ecko’s voice was jagged, and it tore.
    Nivrotar rocked backwards, said nothing. She turned to look at the Bard, and they exchanged a long glance laden with fuck alone knew what. For a moment, their mutual Tundran resemblance was strong.
    And the Lord of Amos looked old, older by far than Roderick, older even than the carved beastie behind her throne…
    She looked
exhausted.
    Then Ecko blinked, and the look was gone – she was pale and perfect, elegant as ever.
    “There was always suspicion,” Roderick said, his voice like the plainland’s empty wind. “All my life, Ecko, scrabbling for pieces. Fragments of forgotten lore. I went looking for the Kas upon Rammouthe, long ago – and I found no trace of them, or of their fabled citadel. And now Karine finds a truth I could never… never have dreamed…” At the word, his own voice cracked, failed. He leaned on the side of the seat, caught one huge, shaking gulp of breath, then another. His knees went, and he seemed to curl in on himself, to shrink away from the memory, from the body on the floor, from thoughts laden with pain and loss and fear. Ecko watched him, adrenaline tinged with a tangle of scorn and pity. Then Nivrotar said something in words unfamiliar, a language that sounded like the cracking of ice, ancient and cold.
    Steadying, the Bard inhaled again, lifted his chin. His shoulders straightened. When he spoke, it was as distant as the white moon.
    “Karine tells us that, whatever my reconnaissance told me, there are more Kas than just Vahl Zaxaar. And they walk here among us, in whatever strength and form. They may lack their commander, Ecko, but I fear you’re right: there is
purpose.
”
    The word sent a chill through the room.
    “Which is
what
?” Ecko said.
    “Sadly, that I can’t answer.” As he spoke, his amethyst eyes seemed to flicker with a hint of his old humour. “Ah, Ecko. You wanted your epic victory, your Final War – perhaps the Gods will yet grant you that desire.”
    “Perchance Vahl wanted Fhaveon as a bridgehead,” Nivrotar said sharply. Her finger tapped her cheek. “And if so, it would mean the Kas are indeed still upon Rammouthe, and that they will come – or have come – over the water. Perhaps they stalk already the streets of the Lord city.” She looked at them, one face after another.