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Advance Readers Copy — Not for Sale

GOLDEN SON

Book II of the Red Rising Trilogy

Pierce Brown

Del Rey

This is an uncorrected eBook file.

Please do not quote for publication until you check your copy against the finished book.

Tentative On-Sale Date: January 6, 2015

Tentative Publication Month: January 2015

Tentative Print Price: $25.00

Tentative eBook Price: $12.99

Please note that books will not be available in stores until the above on-sale date.

All reviews should be scheduled to run after that date.

Publicity Contact:

Ballantine Publicity

(212) 782-8678

www.delreybooks.com

Del Rey

An imprint of Random House

1745 Broadway • New York, NY • 10019

By Pierce Brown

Red Rising

Golden Son

This is an uncorrected eBook file. Please do not quote for publication until you check your copy against the finished book.

Golden Son is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Pierce Brown

Map copyright © by Joel Daniel Phillips

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

DEL REY and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.

ISBN 978-0-345-53981-6

eBook ISBN 978-0-345-53982-3

[insert CIP information here]

www.delreybooks.com

Book Design by Caroline Cunningham

To mother, who taught me to speak.

Contents

Cover

eBook Information

By Pierce Brown

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Map

Acknowledgments

Prologue

PART I: BOW

1: Warlords

2: The Breech

3: Blood and Piss

4: Fallen

5: Supper

6: Icarus

7: The Afterbirth

8: Alliance

9: The Darkness

10: Broken

11: Red

PART II: BREAK

12: The Willow

13: Mad Dogs

14: The Sovereign

15: Truth

16: The Game

17: What the Storm Brings

18: Bloodstains

19: Stork

20: Helldiver

21: Stains

22: Fire Blossom

23: Trust

24: Bacon and Eggs

PART III: CONQUER

25: Praetors

26: Puppet Master

27: Jelly Beans

28: The Stormsons

29: Old Man’s Wrath

30: Gathering Storm

31: Coup

32: Die Young

33: A Dance

34: Blood Brothers

35: Teatime

36: Lord of War

37: War

38: The Iron Rain

39: At the Wall

PART IV: RUIN

40: Mud

41: Achilles

42: Death of a Gold

43: The Sea

44: The Poet

45: Helldivers

46: Brotherhood

47: Free

48: The Magistrate

49: Why We Sing

50: The Deep

51: Golden Son

About the Author

Map TK

Acknowledgments TK

Once upon a time, a man came from the sky and killed my wife. Beside him now, I walk on a mountain that floats over our world. Snow falls. Battlements of white stone and shimmering glass yawn out of the rock.

Around us swirls a chaos of greed. All the great Golds of Mars descend upon the Institute to lay claim to the best and brightest of our year. Their ships swarm the morning sky, cutting over a world of snow and smoking castles for Olympus, which I stormed only hours before.

“Take a last look,” he tells me as we near his shuttle. “All that came before was but a whisper of our world. When you leave this mountain, all bonds are broken, all oaths dust. You are not prepared. No one ever is.”

Across the crowd, I see Cassius with his father and siblings as they make their way to their shuttle. Their eyes burn at us over the white, and I remember the sound of his brother’s heart as it beat its last. A rough hand with bony fingers lays claim to my shoulder, clutching possessively.

Augustus stares at his enemies.

“Bellonas do not forgive or forget. They are many. But they cannot harm you.” His cold eyes peer down at me, his fresh prize. “For you belong to me, Darrow, and I protect what is mine.”

As do I.

For seven hundred years, my people have been enslaved without voice, without hope. Now I am their sword. And I do not forgive. I do not forget. So let him lead me onto his shuttle. Let him think he owns me. Let him welcome me into his house, so I might burn it down.

But then his daughter takes my hand, and I feel all the lies fall heavy on my shoulders. They say a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. They made no mention of the heart.

PART I

BOW

Hic sunt leones. “Here be lions.”

—Nero au Augustus

1

Warlords

My silence thunders. I stand on the bridge of my starship, arm broken and held in a gelcast, ion burns still raw on my neck. I’m bloodydamn tired. My razor coils around my good right arm like a cold metal snake. Before me, space opens, vast and terrible. Small fragments of light prick the darkness, and primordial shadows move to block those stars on the fringes of my vision. Asteroids. They float slowly around my man-of-war, Quietus, as I search the blackness for my quarry.

“Win,” my master told me. “Win as my children cannot, and you will bring honor to the name Augustus. Win at the Academy and you earn yourself a fleet.” He likes dramatic repetition. It suits most statesmen.

He’d have me win for him, but I’d win for the Red girl with a dream bigger than she ever could be. I’d win so that he dies, and her message burns across the ages. Small order.

I am twenty. Tall and broad in the shoulders. My uniform, all sable, now wrinkled. Hair long and eyes Golden, bloodshot. Mustang once said I have a sharp face, with cheeks and nose seemingly carved from angry marble. I avoid mirrors myself. Better to forget the mask I wear, the mask that bears the angled scar of the Golds who rule the worlds from Mercury to Pluto. I am of the Peerless Scarred. Cruelest and brightest of all humankind. But I miss the kindest of them. The one who asked me to stay as I bid her and Mars goodbye on her balcony almost a year ago. Mustang. I gave her a horse-crested gold ring as a parting gift, and she gave me a razor. Fitting.

The taste of her tears grows stale in memory. I have not heard from her since I left Mars. Worse, I have not heard from the Sons of Ares since I won at Mars’s Institute more than two years ago. Dancer said he would contact me once I graduated, but I have been cast adrift amongst a sea of Golden faces.

This is so far from the future I imagined for myself as a boy. So far from the future I wanted to make for my people when I let the Sons carve me. I thought I would change the worlds. What young fool doesn’t? Instead, I have been swallowed by the machine of this vast empire as it rumbles inexorably on.