Never thought she would lay eyes upon the men and women that would someday, most of them, enter the Expanse.
And die.
She couldn’t see it from here. But she could certainlyfeelit: the death and danger that lay in waiting to devour her on the true front lines.
The howling wind lessened with the natural shield of the Citadel’s cliffs, but the sounds of the war camp emerged in its place as Arawn led them into the maze of tents.
It was like another world entirely.
She’d been receiving messages from this place and others just like it for years. But somehow seeing a war camp with her own eyes, hearing the shouts of soldiers and the roar of bears, the ring of steel clashing against steel …
It felt truly real for the very first time.
She stepped through a cloud of smoke from a nearby campfire and followed the blur of Arawn’s white braid and cape through the chaos.
It was the only constant she could hold on to now.
Countless troops marched in all directions. Many seemed dressed for battle, swords sheathed on their hips and shields hefted over shoulders, while others looked to be resting inside the wards for the night. They sharpened their weapons, wrote letters home, scarfed down dried rations that reminded her just how long it had been since she’d eaten any real food.
But she suddenly had no appetite.
‘Out of the way, recruit!’ a voice grumbled. It was followed by a roar, and Ezer stumbled sideways, narrowly avoiding a giant war bear as it padded past her, its mighty paws leaving deep tracks in the snow. It was harnessed, and dragging a sled loaded with a pile of weapons. The hilts and blades rattled like bare bones.
They went past a tent full of Ehvermage healers: Sacred Knights that had the magic of Dhysis in their veins. The canvas flaps were held open for just a moment to reveal the rows of stained wooden tables, bodies already lying on each of them. The smell came with the familiar reek of cleaning alcohol.Death.
She stumbled past a pair of sheep bleating in a pen, and a young girl dressed in Sacred whites, who looked to be in training from the fact that she bore no crest yet. Her lips moved in a constant whisper as she voiced elegant invocations over their water troughs. Blue light emanated from her palms, a dance between her and her god as she manipulated the ice back into water.
Arawn had paused not far away at the entrance to another white tent.
Inside, the prisoners had already begun receiving their uniforms.
A tattered rednomagecloak with a hood lined in grey fur. A cap and gloves, a red tunic and thick red trousers, wool socks and a pair of worn leather boots. The toes were stained in dark splotches. As if whoever had worn these uniforms first …whoever had stood here at this very tent –Gods,Ervos had stood here– they didn’t need these clothes anymore.
Which meant she was to wear the clothing of the dead.
Ezer turned, suddenly feeling her stomach twist.
And before she could stop herself, she was vomiting into the snow. Soldiers skirted to the side as they walked past, shaking their heads.
She wiped her mouth clean with the back of her sleeve and turned back to the tent.
‘Next!’ the soldier barked.
Ezer stepped forward.
And then promptly felt a hand clap over her shoulder.
‘Not for you, Minder.’
She turned to look up into Arawn’s cold blue eyes and found him frowning down at her. The second their eyes met, he dropped his hand like he’d been burned.
‘The Ravenminder’s tower is past the Citadel,’ he said. He lifted his chin over her shoulder … towards the hulking fortress that glowed at the top of the cliffs like a beacon in the night.
‘Pastthe Citadel?’
She thought her tower in Rendegard was tall.
But his gaze had gone all the way to the highest cliff in Augaurde, to the right of the Citadel.
