I clasped the necklace around my throat and enjoyed the weight as the gemstones settled against my chest. For a moment I allowed myself to wonder about the boy that had given me this pendant.
What would he be like? Would he be as fierce when it came to commanding an army? Would he be as stern and direct with his men? Would he have been as playful? Or smile like that?
I closed my eyes and shook my head. No. These thoughts were foolish. Neither man had a place in my head anymore. Arrick was a means to an end.
And the boy from my memories would remain that—a memory.
Arrick and the memories I treasured would disappear eventually. Until then, I would cling to the journey, to the steps taking me closer and closer to my home.
11
Aday later we approached a village that could only be described as the exact opposite of happy and peaceful.
Smoke billowed, darkening the sky. The rebel army kicked their mounts into a gallop, sensing danger long before we could see what caused the blaze. Oliver and I hurried after them. We weren’t as skilled on horseback and were forced to trail behind.
Ash fell like snow. My nostrils clogged with the stench of burning wood and oil. And something stronger, something that wasn’t tangible. Something like fear.
Oliver and I arrived in the burning village just in time to watch the rebels dismount with haste, a wall of fire surrounding them from three sides. They moved into action with practiced speed, making it clear that this wasn’t the first inferno they’d extinguished.
Or the first village they’d seen destroyed.
Oliver and I hovered near the edges, coughing through the blackish smoke as cozy homes and centuries-old trees burned. The fire consumed everything it touched, greedy with death and destruction.
From where I watched it, the blaze was a living, breathing dragon that swept high up into the thick-leafed canopy overhead before dropping back toward the ground to eat at grass and horse and men alike.
The great, fiery beast flapped hellish wings and licked with its forked tongue as branches snapped and plunged to the ground, making more kindling for the roaring firestorm. The fire beast jumped from tree to tree, splitting into more creatures, more death, spreading like a plague through this once-picturesque village.
I blinked and the beast turned back into mere fire. Fire that ravaged everything it touched.
Throughout this journey, I’d seen that all the villages in Tenovia were built among the trees of the Tellekane Forest. Houses mingled with shops and temples, all connected by a spider web of rope bridges.
The main highway snaked through the village, undisturbed by the community living over it. Some houses towered stories high, built around massive black cedars, extending outward on sturdy branches as thick and durable as any castle rampart. Likewise, merchants conducted business from their lofts in the trees. A blacksmith or goldsmith would have everything he needed built on solid platforms reaching from trunk center to middle of the branch. An alchemist mixed potions from the carved out laboratory of a gigantic cedar. Wells and a series of pulleys and water wheels brought water to each dwelling.
Rope bridges connected one tree house to the next. The walkways went side-to-side as well as up and down so the different levels of the village could be easily accessed. A lift system made it possible to ride from the ground to the first level of the village easily.
Tenovian citizens were used to containing and controlling fires. This was how they existed. How they cooked, conducted business, raised their children, and worshiped. Fire was as common in a Tenovian village as daily meals and kilns and alchemy.
The fire that raged through this village with unrestrained frenzy proved that it had not been accidently set. Nor had it been designed to only damage a little.
Whoever had set this inferno had meant to kill. To completely obliterate.
“There are people up there!” I heard someone shout.
Arrick’s men moved into action. While half the army remained with the well and pulley system, sending buckets of water down the line to drown the fire as best they could, the other half raced for houses where dozens of villagers were trapped.
I slid off my horse, ignoring my stiff bones and sore muscles. I slung my satchel over my abandoned saddle, tucked Shiksa inside, and rushed into the blaze.
The smoke billowed around me, creating curtains of black, choking agony. The fire blazed hotter than anything I’d ever experienced. My skin immediately felt as if I’d lazed in the sun all day and let it redden my complexion to the point of pain.
“Whoever set this fire, locked them inside,” Oliver gasped next to me.
Fire, as hot as the flame that blazed around me, set my blood to boil. “Who would do such a thing?”
Oliver shook his head. This was beyond any horror he had ever seen.
Arrick’s strong voice called for more water overhead. My mind swirled with our latest conversations. Had this been the work of the Tenovian royal house? Or the Ring of Shadows?
I shook my head, determined to focus on the fight ahead of me.
