Publisher : Tor Books (May 11, 2021)
Language : English
Hardcover : 544 pages
ISBN-10 : 1250175674
ISBN-13 : 978-1250175670
“Lyons has cleverly taken the epic fantasy tropes of prophecy and lineage and stood them on their heads, all while delving deep into her multidimensional characters and spinning great battles with high body counts.” ―Booklist, starred review
For fans of Brandon Sanderson and Patrick Rothfuss, The House of Always is the fourth epic fantasy in Jenn Lyons' Chorus of Dragons series that began with The Ruin of Kings.
What if you were imprisoned for all eternity?
In the aftermath of the Ritual of Night, everything has changed.
The Eight Immortals have catastrophically failed to stop Kihrin's enemies, who are moving forward with their plans to free Vol Karoth, the King of Demons. Kihrin has his own ideas about how to fight back, but even if he's willing to sacrifice everything for victory, the cost may prove too high for his allies.
Now they face a choice: can they save the world while saving Kihrin, too? Or will they be forced to watch as he becomes the very evil they have all sworn to destroy.
3: Secret Plans
Teraeth’s memory Grizzst’s Tower at Rainbow Lake
Twenty-two days after the Battle of the Well of Spirals
Before breakfast
Janel set a plate of jam-smeared sag bread on the table next to Teraeth’s bed. “I would’ve made porridge,” she said, “but you’re the only one who has any clue how to cook.”
Teraeth stared down at the plate, frowning. When had he last eaten? He wasn’t hungry. He mostly slept. It seemed preferable to the alternative: thinking.
Thinking led to remembering. And if he remembered, he relived what had happened over and over. His father’s death. His mother, forcing him to be crowned king against his will. Kidnapping him. Trying to sacrifice him as an act of genocide. 1
His mother’s death at his own hand. In the end, it hadn’t been Relos Var who’d killed Thaena. He had.
Teraeth had known two things when he’d seen his mother, Khaemezra, toss Urthaenriel down to the floor: she’d unwittingly broken her magical control of him, and if he hesitated even for a moment, she’d take Kihrin’s life.
Teraeth made his choice. It wasn’t even a hard choice.
At least, it hadn’t been a hard choice at the time.
It turned out choices could linger like a wound, reminding a person every waking second of their consequences. Choices were ghosts; they haunted.
“Teraeth.”
Teraeth tried to collect himself. What had he been doing? What was—? He stared at the food, then at Janel. She’d started braiding her laevos flat against her skull. Or wait, no. She always did that before she slept, didn’t she?
She wasn’t preparing for sleep now. Janel wore red-and-gold mail, with a motif of flame and scales. She dressed for war, not lounging around a wizard’s tower. She clearly intended on going somewhere. Leaving.
Teraeth knew he should get up. He knew he should eat, bathe, dress—but he couldn’t make himself move. It all seemed so unimportant. No, insignificant. What did it even matter?
1 Had Thaena successfully forced Teraeth to finish the ritual, it would have resulted in not only his death, but the death of every citizen of the Manol nation. I am only somewhat comforted in the knowledge that the tenyé cost of such an act is usually far too high for any individual or group to provide. War is easier.What did anything matter?
“I want you out of bed, Teraeth,” Janel said again. “It’s been almost three weeks. That’s enough.”
He closed his eyes.
Janel yanked the sheets off the bed. “Time’s up. You’ve had your chance to wallow in guilt, and now you have to work. You have people who need you, a crown to abdicate, and a very short list of enemies to kill.”
Teraeth rolled over. “Leave me alone.”
“No. Personally, I’d let you be Kihrin’s problem, but I can’t: Kihrin’s missing.” Her voice crackled with anger.
He felt plunged in cold water.
When had he last seen Kihrin? He wasn’t sure. He remembered Kihrin being around a lot in the days after . . . what had happened. Dim memories of falling into deep, possibly drugged slumbers wedged between Kihrin and Janel, as if both were afraid to leave him unsupervised for fear of what he might do to himself. Kihrin had seldom been around during the day, and then he had simply . . . not been around.
Teraeth hadn’t noticed. No, that wasn’t true. He’d noticed. He’d just thought it was . . . appropriate. Exactly what Teraeth deserved. Between Kihrin and Janel, at least one of them had been smart enough to back away before they ended up hurt.
Teraeth turned to her. “What?”
“He left to do . . . something.” Janel stared off to the side as if she could see through the walls to wherever Kihrin had hidden himself. “Thurvishar keeps saying nothing’s wrong, but Thurvishar’s a damn liar. Kihrin’s been gone for five days without a note, without saying a word to anyone. He wouldn’t do that.”
An even colder splash of water that time. The shock of fear and worry. He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “What the fuck?”
“Yes!” Janel said, gesturing toward him. “What the fuck, indeed. That’s exactly how I feel. Where are you? Where’s your mind? I need you focused. I need the Teraeth who doesn’t accept failure. I need the Teraeth who hates injustice. I need the Teraeth who’s afraid of nothing!”
Teraeth stood. “I hated the injustice of Quur because I was a hypocrite too blinded by my mother’s bullshit to see that she was the one keeping Quur in shackles the whole time. I was afraid of nothing because I was a fool whose mother was the literal Goddess of Death! Failure had no consequences. I couldn’t die! And you’re the fool if you think failure is something you can reject. Some failures are final. There are some failures from which you can never return!”
“Not yet!” Janel screamed. “I need your help! I need you to be here with me now, do you understand me?”
“You want a Teraeth that doesn’t exist anymore. He’s gone. I lost him!”
She loomed so much larger than her true size. Janel shouted at him with tears running down her cheeks. “Then go find him! Listen to me. Listen!” She paused, panting, then lowered her voice. “I. Need. Your. Help. Do you understand? I am asking for you to help me. Do I need to beg?”
Pure ice. Facedown against a glacier. He blinked away the sting. Teraeth hadn’t thought . . . Janel was admitting she needed help, that she needed hisCopyright © 2021 by Jenn Lyons
After making a dramatic shift in careers from graphic artist to video game producer, Jenn Lyons dedicated herself to writing. The Ruin of Kings and the Name of All Things, the first two books in Lyons’s five-book debut epic fantasy series from Tor Books, A Chorus of Dragons, are available now. The third book in the series, the Memory of Souls, arrives August 2020.
Jenn Lyons lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband, Michael Lyons (who is also a writer — and may or may not be Batman), a bunch of cats, and a whole lot of tea.
