Damian Venturi isn’t aware of it yet. But as small shifts start to crack the foundations of the Ombrazian power structure after the Rebellion’s attack, cracks are beginning to show in Damian’s own facade…
We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Disciples of Chaos, the conclusion of M.K. Lobb’s Seven Faceless Saints YA fantasy duology—out from Little, Brown Books for Young Readers on February 20.
Damian Venturi isn’t aware of it yet. But as small shifts start to crack the foundations of the Ombrazian power structure after the Rebellion’s attack, cracks are beginning to show in Damian’s own facade. Uncontrollable anger is bubbling to the surface and can’t always be pushed down. Can he keep everyone safe, even from himself?
Rossana Lacertosa should feel victorious. She accomplished everything she set out to do, and more. The Rebellion’s attack set countless prisoners free and brought attention to the unfairness in the Palazzo’s structure. And Damian is back by her side where he belongs. Yet the war with Brechaat rages on and government officials are hellbent on keeping the status quo.
Then an Ombrazian general arrives from the front lines, and orders dozens of arrests, shipping Roz and Damian’s friends up north. Determined to free those who matter most, Roz and Damian set their sights on Brechaat. But their journey is dogged by strange magic, and Damian shifts further from the boy he used to be.
Damian’s mind refused to process the scene before him.
“We have guests,” Salvestro had said moments prior, looking far too pleased with himself. It had taken Damian a moment to understand what he meant. Of course they had guests—the council chambers were full of them. But he’d followed Salvestro’s gaze, glancing into the corridor to see a veritable army of security officers.
None of them were his.
He’d seen the woman with a general’s insignia on the shoulders of her uniform. Military green, not Palazzo blue. Had heard her harsh command and pressed himself against the wall as officers forced their way into the room.
Buy the Book
Disciples of Chaos
There were dozens upon dozens of them. Certainly more than Damian had under his authority. They made a beeline for the side of the room where the unfavored sat, and that was when he realized what was happening. He bellowed a warning, but nobody heard him in the commotion. Roz didn’t hear him. These were military officers—the type who stood guard at the perimeter of the Ombrazian camps up north. The type who chased down deserters. And the woman with them was a military general.
Damian didn’t know her, but she was more decorated than his father had been. Being a military general was different from being a general who worked in the Palazzo. Battista’s job had been largely administrative. This woman, though, was from the front lines. She would have spent years clawing her way up, gambling with lives in the process. Damian knew without a doubt that despite technically being the same rank, his father would have bowed to her.
She watched the scene play out with cool impassivity. All around them, officers were taking the unfavored into custody. Only a few of the civilians had weapons—rebels, Damian assumed—but even so, they didn’t stand a chance. The officers moved with uncanny efficiency, snapping cuffs around wrists and fending off blows with ease. One of them had Nasim restrained, and although she bared her teeth at him, she didn’t fight back. Damian’s heart lurched as he mentally prepared for Roz to involve herself, but she had disappeared from sight. Hell, where was she?
He pushed off the wall, scouring the sea of bodies for her tall figure. All around him, disciples were ushered out of the room. Those who remained looked on with confusion. A number of Damian’s security officers did the same, or else tried to catch his eye for some kind of signal. Kiran and Siena were in the latter group, their expressions panicked, but Damian could only shrug at them in horrified bewilderment. Other officers had leapt into the fray and were conducting arrests alongside the military officers. Damian had one hand on his gun, the other clenched in a fist. They were going to get a fucking earful from him later.
“Damian!”
He spun, searching wildly for the source of Roz’s voice. He spotted her a beat later, an officer at her back, her knife on the ground by her feet. Her expression was sheer rage, but beneath it was disbelief. She was wondering if he’d known about this, Damian understood with a jolt. He gave a frantic shake of his head as he forced his way through the crowd. The officer who had detained Roz was trying to guide her to the edge of the room, but she was standing her ground. At least until he yanked her sideways, causing her to stumble. Damian’s anger flared white-hot. He didn’t know how he made it to her, only that he did, and the next second his fist was slamming into the officer’s temple. The man staggered, eyes unfocused. A hand wrenched Damian back, and he whirled to find himself nose-to-nose with Kiran.
“What are you doing?” his friend demanded, face devoid of its usual humor.
Damian heaved a breath. He knew hitting another officer was a mistake, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “They’re arresting her. They—”
Kiran’s hair was coming out of its knot, and he tucked a dark lock behind his ear as he spoke. “They’re arresting everyone who seems to be unfavored. I take it you didn’t know about this?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
The room was nearly empty. Only Damian’s officers, the Palazzo representatives, and a handful of military officers remained. The disciples had all been made to leave, the unfavored dragged out in handcuffs. Damian wondered where they were being taken, but had the terrible sensation he knew. He sought out Roz again, but the place where she’d been standing was occupied by somebody else. Slate-gray eyes rooted him in place.
“Signor Venturi, I take it,” said the general. “I’ve heard much about you.”
Damian gave a shallow bow, forcing himself to swallow the putrid anger still stirring in his throat. Had she seen him punch that officer? “An honor, Signora.”
She didn’t smile, or even react. When she spoke, it was to the rest of the room, her voice devoid of emotion.
“I am General Caterina Falco. You will address me as ‘General.’ I’ve held my current rank for the past five years. Prior to that, I spent nine years as head commander at the front, though my first promotion was in the training bureau. I’ve spent nearly my entire life at war, and the only reason I’m stepping away now is to help get this place back on track. I’m sorry to hear about Battista Venturi’s death—he was a great man. As long as I’m in this building, treat me the same way you did him, and we’ll get along just fine.”
There was a pause, but then everyone nodded. A few of Damian’s officers shot him accusatory glances, likely suspecting he’d withheld news of Falco’s arrival. At his place by the door, Salvestro was practically radiating delight, as if he could fathom nothing better than being around this brusque, unpleasant woman. With some effort, Damian managed to nod. That brief moment of uncontrollable violence had faded, and as logic returned, he formulated a plan. He would play nice with Falco. He would figure out where they had taken Roz, and he would get her pardoned. After all, they had no proof of any crimes committed.
“Now,” Falco said, “a considerable number of you already know me from your time spent up north. I did bring some reinforcements of my own”—she gestured at the green-clad officers—“in order to help boost your numbers.” Finally her gray eyes found Damian’s again, but he couldn’t identify the expression in them. Did she expect him to assist with this? Why hadn’t anyone sent word ahead of time?
“With your cooperation,” she went on, “I have no doubt we will be able to restore order to Ombrazia.”
Excerpted from Disciples of Chaos, copyright © 2023 by M.K. Lobb.
