Lesser Evils (Forgotten Realms: Brimstone Angels, Book 2)
Erin M. Evans
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Mere weeks after escaping Neverwinter, Farideh's dreams are still haunted by Lorcan, the cambion devil whose power fuels her own. One of only four known descendents of the original Brimstone Angel, Farideh has no regrets about the pact she made with the devil. But no one in the Hells knows that she has a twin--an impulsive eager sister, just waiting to be corrupted. At least as long as Lorcan can keep her secret. Determined to protect her sister, Farideh searches for a ritual that could call Lorcan out of the Hells. But in the midst of her hunt, she's drawn into an assignment for the secret society the Harpers, an assignment which leads her and a ragtag group of allies to an ancient Netherese library deep underground. While the group combs the site, dodging ghosts and magical traps, Farideh discovers a magical book whose pronouncements throw into question everything she thought she knew about herself and her sister. The more the Book gives up its macabre secrets, the more one thing becomes clear--a traitor lurks among them.
Already told me you won’t make me talk.” Tam shook his head. “I said be glad I’m not Viridi.” He handed the bundle containing the Book to the third Harper, a brunette woman. “Don’t touch it yourself,” he cautioned. “And lock it up tight in the vaults when he’s through.” You will regret this, the Book’s voice said, as the armored Harper took hold of it. “That I may.” He looked at the gaudy silver pin perched on his shoulder, a harp and a moon on a round shield. Another thing to get on Everlund
gentleman with poor conversational skills and unfortunate dress sense.” “That’s plenty for me.” Farideh bit her lip. “Maybe you could just take the invitation,” she said. “I don’t want to wind up in any trouble, and—” “I’ll teach you rituals,” Dahl interrupted. “Five. Fair?” She hesitated. “I don’t know if you know the ritual I need.” “As long as it’s not along Master Rhand’s lines, I can all but guarantee I do know it. Common or obscure—I have a lot of rituals. Ones you won’t find outside of
guards come after you?” he asked as the two Harpers helped Farideh over to the stone bench. “Not yet, but he was mad enough. I can’t imagine they’ll happily let us leave. She’s vomited. Twice. And I got some water into her.” “Not going to do much good since it’s already running its course.” Tam dropped down to his knees and took her face in his hands. “Look at me, Fari.” The blessing rushed over her like a cold breeze that swept right through her skin and whistled through the spaces in her
sniffed. “Sometimes you shouldn’t get what you want.” She stood and heaved herself over the side of the wagon, her glaive in hand. Farideh sighed—gods, whatever she meant by that, it surely meant a fight later on. Perhaps she was mad about what Farideh had said about Brin. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to come along. Perhaps she, like Farideh, wasn’t expecting Brin to come as well. “She’s wrong, you know,” Dahl said abruptly. Farideh leaned over the edge of the wagon so she could see him better.
and the mercenaries were nowhere to be seen, but their footfalls echoed up the path. “What do you think it will look like?” Havilar whispered. “A pile of coins and swords?” “He was a wizard,” Farideh said. “I suspect it’s more magical things.” “Arcanist,” Dahl corrected. “What’s the good of that?” Havilar asked. “I thought the Spellplague broke all the magic from the olden days.” “It’s … mendable,” Dahl said, even though he was certain she wasn’t speaking to him. “Some of it. A spell becomes