Free Heirs of the Fallen: Book 04 - Wrath of the Fallen by James A. West

And even after he told Adham that the Faceless One was actually Peropis, Adham still had to contend with the truth that Kian was dead and gone, along with everyone else he had ever known in the far north. No easy thing, that.
    The storm pressed closer, driving rain against his cheeks. Leitos began running, swiftly catching up to Belina and the others. Adham shouted behind him, but the wind snatched away his words, and Leitos made no effort to catch them. Right now, getting away from his father’s dismal convictions was all that mattered. Under these considerations came another: What if everyone thinks the same way?
    He pushed the thought away. Belina would side with him, and also Sumahn and Daris, both who were as eager as he was to join battle against the enemy of humankind. He was sure most of the Yatoans would feel the same. That the Faceless One had turned out to be Peropis, the ruler of the Thousand Hells, might trouble a few, but the game had not changed, nor the rules. They would either beat back Peropis’s hordes, or they would cower and die. In truth, death might come either way, but Leitos would rather fight as he had been taught, than hide like a mouse in its hole.
    At the sound of his feet splashing through muddy puddles, Belina spun, dagger leaping into her hand. Seeing no danger, she favored him with a quick grin and put her blade away.
    “Where’s Adham?” Ulmek asked.
    “He’s coming,” Leitos answered.
    Belina gave him a strange look. “You left him by himself?”
    “He’s a tough old root,” Daris assured her. “He had wandered for weeks in the Mountains of Fire before Sumahn found him. I think he can handle walking back to this blighted city.”
    “That’s not what I meant,” Belina said. “None of us should be alone right now.”
    “He’s fine,” Leitos assured her.
    Belina’s study intensified. “Are you ?”
    “Of course.”
    “What happened, Leitos, in the Throat?”
    “We’ll have time for that later,” he said, just short of curtness. He molded his features into a calm, reassuring expression. “Right now we need to get Nola back to the palace and patch her wounds. Afterward, I’ll tell everyone what happened. Then, together, we can decide how best to bring war against our enemies.”
    Ulmek glanced his way, a shadow of trepidation scrawled across his angular face. Something about that expression triggered in Leitos a memory of a lightless plane, a place where monstrous shadows danced, and the Faceless One sat upon a great obsidian chair. The throne room . Ulmek and Adham had been pale as specters to Leitos’s eyes, yet they had claimed it was he who had turned gray as death.
    “I’m fine,” Leitos said, voice tight with impatience.
    No one said anything after that, but Leitos still had the feeling that Belina and Ulmek were eyeing him as if he were dangerous. Let them fret , he thought irritably, and passed by a hobbling Damoc to catch up with Sumahn.
    “How is she?” he asked, and winced when his eyes found Nola.
    Sumahn, who looked so much like Ulmek that they could have been father and son, did not slow or glance his way. Rain dripped from his stern face. “I ... I don’t know, little brother.”
    As though hearing the concern and wanting to put Sumahn at ease, Nola muttered softly.
    “We’ll take good care of you,” Sumahn promised through gritted teeth, gaze locked on the nearing gates. His arms were trembling, and his step was unsteady, but nothing in his demeanor suggested he would fail the girl in his arms.
    Leitos searched the wall walks, saw no threatening silhouettes, then glanced again at Nola. She stared up into the rainy sky with one slitted green eye. A blade had taken the other, and further destroyed her beauty by furrowing a groove from one eyebrow to the side of her chin. For all that, Leitos worried she had other injuries, something unseen that threatened her life.
    Sumahn’s toe clipped the edge of a loose cobble, and he staggered forward