Hannah Kaner

In the epic finale to the #1 internationally bestselling Fallen Gods trilogy that started with Godkiller, the fate of Middren hangs in the balance as mighty gods and mortal heroes clash in a final battle for supremacy. War has come. The fire god Hseth is leading an unstoppable army south, consuming everything in her path. Middren's only hope of survival is to unify allies and old foes against a common enemy. Elo navigates an uneasy alliance with Arren—his friend, his enemy, and his king. Now they each must decide how much they're willing to sacrifice to turn the tides of war. Meanwhile, Inara joins her mother on their ship, the Silverswift, to seek aid. Still grappling with her powers, Inara must reconcile who she is and where she belongs, while Skediceth has to question if their bond will be enough to keep them safe. Kissen has no allegiance to the old ways of Middren. But, as she tries to find her family, she is forced to question what, and whose, future she is fighting for. In Faithbreaker, Hannah Kaner delivers a powerful conclusion to the Fallen Gods trilogy, masterfully weaving together love and sacrifice, loyalty and betrayal, and the true meaning of faith.

A Novel

Faithbreaker

Izaac Richards

You damned fool of a man, snarled Eligast, following Arren through the gates of his shattered Reach.

Occasionally, he fanned her with his wings, which seemed to ease her breathing. He was starting to think that he quite liked her alive.

"You saved my daughter," the lady said at last. "In so many ways. I am," she twisted her nose, "... grateful for it." 

Gratitude? From Lady Craier? She really had warmed to her. 'I dont know," Kissen said, smiling crookedly. "She's a feisty litle thing. She'd have thought of something." 

Lessa laughed, and lifted her hand to touch her ears, as if unused to the weight of the gold earrings that now adorned them. "I should have been there for her more," she said. 'I'm glad you were. Are." 

Kissen bit her tongue to stop saying something stupid. Like declare undying loyalty or swear fealty to the beautiful lady and her terrifying daughter. That was what fools did in stories. Kissen was no fool. Their paths would not stay together forever, one day the two of them would go where Kissen did not, could not belong.

Yatho roared. "Get your fucking hands OFF MY WIFE!" she roared, stepping towards him, her colours a trail of blazing glory so bright it seemed like the afterglow of lightning. She swung with all the considerable force of her shoulder and upper body, crunching the head of the hammer into the side of the man's face, then with her other shattering his knee with a sickening crunch.

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