“Not much.”
She clicks her tongue, and the water sloshes slightly as she fidgets. “The old King died that day too. And the Queen. Petyr was crowned the following day, once the Never had settled and we knew that none could have survived. He set up a military camp close to the forests, and the remains of the court in the…”
Her voice trails off. I fill in the gap. “In the temple.”
“Yes. There’s a new wall which separates the camp and the temple. Petyr calls it the castle, though.” She twists again, turning to face me and making water slosh everywhere. “I’m sorry, Selene. It’s strange, telling you this.”
Explaining my home to me as if I am a stranger.
My breathing, somehow, remains steady. “What of the town?”
Esme runs wet hands over her face. “I need to be dressed for this conversation. Pass me the sheet.”
She climbs out, grabbing for her clothes and dragging them on over wet skin. I stay where I am, kneeling on the crate. Her hand touches my shoulder. “Sit down. Please.”
Numbly, I follow her to the bed.
She curls her legs underneath her, slim fingers picking at a loose thread. “The village remains as it was. We had to build some additional homes to fit those who remained, at least at first, until Petyr gave new orders for the military. Materials became scarce quickly, but we’ve done what we could.”
“Because of the Never,” I say softly. Esme nods.
“There is no access, in or out. Callan is the only one who can get through, and with the strain it puts on him, every time is a risk.”
My brows draw together. “Could he not have evacuated everyone in stages? Taken a handful with every trip?”
“It was a possibility, at least at first.” Esme sighs. “But he could never have taken us all, and it caused a lot of problems. Fighting, power struggles, bribery, over who would be the first. Eventually Petyr stepped in, and said either all would leave, or none, and it was too much of a risk in any case. Our priority had to be bringing goods in to protect who was left and finding a way to fix the Never. It’s been that way for years.”
“Is there no other gerent? Nobody else who can cast like Callan?”
Her lips part. “They died,Selene. All of them.”
Gods. So much loss. “In the Shift.”
But she shakes her head. “Not then, but after. We built as many ships as we could, some barely more than boats, trying to replace what had been lost with what we had to hand. Gerent were the rarest class even then, but we had thirty-seven wielders left. The test fleet barely made it a hundred feet before the first fell either to the pretium, or to their own maegis limitations. And then more. It turned to pandemonium as we watched fromthe shore. Some turned around there and then, trying to make it back and falling feet from the dock. Others went for Terrosa, trying to get to freedom before the pretium hit them.”
She swallows. “It was chaos. Of those thirty-eight, only a handful even made it to Terrosa. Some of them died there, leaving four to attempt the journey back. Three of them died on the dock from the pretium. Theonlyone who has ever been able to manage that journey, and the cost, is Callan. But the weight grows heavier each time. We hoped we might come across more gerent in Terrosa over the years, but we never have.”
I sit back, shoulders slumping, trying to digest her words. “It seems too high a risk to me, unless for an emergency. Why take the risk at all?”
Asteria is more than self-sufficient to manage food production. In our years there, we had never relied on imports or trade. Everything we needed, our goddess had gifted us. “The land is generous. Is there a lack of skill to farm it?”
Esme’s mouth opens. She shakes her head. “Gods. You really… of course, you wouldn’t know.”
“I think we’ve established that I know nothing. Better to work on that assumption.” I run my fingers through my still mostly wet hair, suddenly annoyed by the tangles.
“Selene.” She almost whispers it. “I’m so sorry. But Asteria is dying.”
My lips part, but nothing comes out.
“What do you mean?” I manage eventually. The words sound strangled, forcing their way through the growing lump in my throat.
Esme reaches for the silken strips she brought with her, wrapping them around her hair to gently squeeze out the water. “You know why we left Boreas?”
Because their land was dying. “I heard the Caelumnai had used too much maegis. That it started to pull from the land.”
But that makes no sense, not for Asteria. It’s been only a few years. Lines appear in her forehead, as if deep in thought. She pulls the silk free, reaching for the oil once more and using a small amount to scrunch her curls. She nods at the wide comb on the bed, and I begin untangling my own knots. “We thought the same. But the day after the Shift, a sentry found a patch of lichen behind a home in the town, when we were starting to clear up. A blackened patch, where the grass had shriveled and died, leaving only the dark plant behind. And then it started to spread.”
She sucks in a breath, and it sounds wet. “It was the same lichen that swallowed Boreas, that we had tried to run from. It consumes… everything, Selene. Every tree, flower, bush, seed in its path is devoured. It leaves nothing behind.”
