The Malice
Following Peter Newman’s brilliant debut, THE VAGRANT. This is the much-anticipated sequel, THE MALICE.In the south, the Breach stirs.Gamma’s sword, the Malice, wakes, calling to be taken to battle once more.But the Vagrant has found a home now, made a life and so he turns his back, ignoring its call.The sword cries out, frustrated, until another answers.Her name is Vesper.
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HarperVoyager an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2016
Copyright © Peter Newman 2016
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016
Peter Newman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780007593163
Ebook Edition © March 2017 ISBN: 9780008201043
Version: 2016-09-19
For Daniel
Table of Contents
One Thousand, One Hundred and Thirty-Seven Years Ago
One Thousand, One Hundred and Twenty-Six Years Ago
One Thousand, One Hundred and Twenty-Five Years Ago
One Thousand, One Hundred and Sixteen Years Ago
One Thousand, One Hundred and Sixteen Years Ago
One Thousand, One Hundred and Fourteen Years Ago
One Thousand One Hundred and Thirteen Years Ago
One Thousand One Hundred and Eleven Years Ago
One Thousand One Hundred and Five Years Ago
One Thousand One Hundred and Two Years Ago
One Thousand and Ninety-Seven Years Ago
One Thousand and Ninety-Seven Years Ago
In the south, the Breach stirs.
For over a thousand years it has grown. Slowly at first, a hidden cancer under the skin of the earth, a hairline crack exhaling alien wisps, disturbing yet harmless. But beneath the surface, pressure grows until the crack becomes an opening, and the opening splits wide, a gaping womb, a wound in the world, erupting.
Infernals pour forth, shapeless nightmares that slaughter their way into reality, inhabiting the bodies of the fallen and mutating them, taking the natural order and tainting it, corrupting plants, animals, even the air itself.
As the infernals take on physical form, they find identities and names: greatest of them is the monstrous Usurper, who raises itself to power by force of will, who strikes down Gamma of The Seven and breaks her armies. It is the Usurper who heralds the end of hope and the retreat of humanityâs influence.
But Gammaâs living sword is not destroyed and its continued presence nags at the marks left on the Usurperâs essence, festering, weakening. The Usurper sends its horde in search of the sword, named Malice by the infernals, but their efforts fail. A man takes the sword from them, and in time its power topples the Usurper and a kind of peace returns. Not true peace, too much is broken for the world to simply recover. This is merely a pause, a holding of breath. It is but a temporary thing. For in the south, the Breach stirs.
*
On the other side of the world a man stands by a window, his amber eyes intent on a small figure outside. Her name is Vesper. She is doing nothing of note and yet the man smiles as he watches her, her very existence comforting, warming like the suns.
For a long time he was alone and lost, a vagrant. Now he has a home, a family and more goats than he knows what to do with. It is a good life.
And yet lately a shadow seems to loom around the corner, a hint of coming disquiet. His home is built outside the Shining City, a step removed from people and politics and the expectations of others. News has to battle to get to his door. This is no accident.
Behind him, the sword begins to tremble, rocking back and forth, folded wings tip-tapping on the wall, but the eye remains closed. For years it has slept, deeply, peacefully, a quiet companion.
He turns to it, a smile sliding from his face. Absently, he scratches at old scars, on his thigh, his face, the side of his head. It has taken years to heal. Years of gentle work to make a new life, a safe space for those he loves.
His attention goes back to Vesper, who chats idly with the goats. Slowly, he returns to work but the tapping of the sword continues, like a thorn in his boot, needling, never quite out of mind. Lips form a line. At his sides, fists clench.
