Food was the most difficult aspect; with times as lean as they are, no one has the means to feed dozens of strangers withoutit coming from their own family’s mouths. Having assurances from the Crown that they’ll be taken care of for their generosity makes a world of difference.
No matter how busy I stay, I can’t keep my mind entirely occupied. Every fresh downpour and howl of wind makes my blood chill, my heart seized for a moment. I look down toward the valley more often than I should, each time saying a silent prayer that Xandril will be all right. That I’ll see him walking up over that rise, weary and exhausted, but whole.
The hours stretch on, the number of evacuees growing, and my betrothed is still unaccounted for.
Of course he is,I reassure myself. It’sXandril. He will be the last one standing long after everyone else has abandoned the battle.
And that’s what scares me so much. I know how willing he is to give everything to this reach and these people.
Today he seemed more than willing. He seemed almost…ready.
My stomach twists, and I swallow the acid burning the back of my throat. I can’t let myself think like that. I can’t let myself give up on him.
“Ow, ow, ow,” a small child cries from one of the nearby cots in the field hospital. We’ve been fortunate that most injuries have been minor so far, but if the dam breaks, that won’t be the case for long.
“Oh no, what did you do?” I ask, crouching next to their bedside.
If the child was human, I’d guess they were no more than five or six, but I’ve no idea how demon aging works. They’re small,though, and obviously young by the way their parents hover close by while a volunteer cleans the scrape on the boy’s arm.
“I fell,” he says, sniffling, his mottled skin streaked with tears.
I look up to his parents who regard me with a peculiar look.
Right. We’re not near the capital anymore. News of the king’s human bride might have traveled this far, but that doesn’t mean these people ever actually expected toseeme. I must be as strange to them as demons were to me when I first arrived.
“I-I was t-trying to save,” the boy wails.
“It was only a toy, Pryn,” the father says.
“He’s myfriend!” the child cries again.
“What you did is very brave,” I say, still crouched so we’re eye-to-eye. This boy might be a demon with horns and claws, but when I look at him, I only see my little brother who fell from the neighbor’s fruit tree. “You did what any good and loyal friend would do. What was your friend’s name?”
“Elay,” he sniffles, the scrape on his arm forgotten.
“Well, I’m quite sure Elay is very grateful for your efforts. But do you think he would want you to hurt yourself for him?”
Pryn’s face scrunches. “No, but… but…”
“I know it’s hard to say goodbye, especially to someone you love. What’s the best thing you and Elay ever did together?”
His face scrunches in thought again. “The best?” he echoes. “Um… Hiding maybe…or climbing… No, finding rocks! He finds the best…”
Pryn rattles on about the rocks and other treasures he’s found with his toy friend, but something else has caught my attention—shouting.
I look up to the parents and they hear it too.
The shouts are coming from the distance, down toward the valley. They’re too far to make out, but the urgency is unmistakable.
“Excuse me,” I say, slipping away quickly but calmly, not wanting to alarm the child. It’s nearly dusk, but the heavy clouds in the sky make it feel much later, and I have to squint down toward the river to be able to see anything at all.
The shouts keep coming, and they’re getting louder, more frantic, and that’s when I finally see it.
A dark wall of water rushes down the valley, erasing everything in its path.
Instead of running away from it like I should, my instincts send me racing toward it.
“Get to higher ground!” I cry as I run through the village spreading the warning as far as I can. “The river’s coming!”
