Auggie took a step forward, and the nearest guard reacted by pointing his pike in Auggie’s direction. Auggie stopped cold and lifted his hands higher, placating. “You needed it, so we brought it. A few of your men made it to Bristol.” He hesitated. “They didn’t survive, but they made your need known.”
The man relaxed and held up a hand, then lowered it for the soldiers to see. They lowered their weapons in response. “Thank you,” the man said. “We weren’t sure how much longer we would have lasted. As is, we’re patching places where the salt has worn down around the walls. Our next step would have been to huddle together in the cathedral.”
“That wouldn’t have been very dignified,” I said.
“When you’re so near death, dignity is your last concern.” He waved some men toward the salt, and they began guiding the bags inside the gates. “Would you share a meal with me? Night isn’t particularly kind to people outdoors. You’ll be wanting to stay the night.”
“That would be very generous of you,” Auggie said, following us inside.
The town was lively and went on as far as the eye could see, with people milling about the streets in front of building after building. There had to have been well over a thousand people. The streets were hard-packed earth, and the buildings in a state of disrepair. I supposed it was hard to maintain things without proper materials, and they’d had access only to what had been behind these very walls for over a decade.
Little glass bulbs strung on wire glowed along the streets as well as indoors. I couldn’t quite tell where the magic that illuminated them came from. It didn’t appear to be fire. It was very strange. And it was clearly alchemy.
“Welcome to Kingsbury,” the old man said. “I am Benedict, the mayor.” He paused then, as Freya stepped into the light. He held up a hand, and I heard the distinct sound of bowstrings being pulled taut.
I stiffened, lifting my eyes to men overhead, arrows pointed straight down at us. “Benedict? Is this how you treat all of your guests?”
Benedict ignored me. He stalked up to Freya and shoved her cloak aside, revealing her extra arms. “The Butcher. You dare show your face here after what you did?”
I watched as Freya looked away, shame evident in her features. “Freya? What is this?”
Benedict sneered. “What is this? Your witch friend here has come to us for help over the years, so we’re familiar with her strange appearance. Survivors from the destruction of villages to the south easily described her. She was leading the charges to expand the Ember King’s territory. Do you know how much the Ember King has made my people suffer? How many of the people of Kingsbury have been murdered by his demon-hounds?”
Freya lifted pleading eyes to his. “I have never worked with the Ember King. There was a brief power struggle for territory between him and the necromancer Ambrosia. I was … compelled by her magic—used by her.”
“And that will help the men you killed rest easier?”
I stepped forward. “Whoa, whoa. Freya was under the control of a necromancer. Don’t you get it? You helped patch her up with parts from dead people.Dead.People. You’re part of the reason Freya was so easy to control.”
Benedict stared back at me stony-faced
“No, Callum,” Freya said, touching my arm. “I understand if they don’t trust me.” She turned to Benedict. “But you should thank the Gods that you never have to know what it’s like to see your own hands cutting people down when you have no control over them.”
My mouth went dry.
“I will go,” Freya said, stepping back toward the open gates.
“You can’t go,” I protested. “There are demon-hounds out there.”
Freya shook her head. “I can encircle myself with salt. I’ll be all right. I don’t want to be the reason you’re turned out.” She smiled weakly at Benedict. “Perhaps I can be of use while I’m here. If you would permit it, I could create a portal.”
Benedict’s face darkened and he opened his mouth to argue, but Freya rushed on: “It would be outside your gates, so no one would have direct access to Kingsbury. You can keep it surrounded by salt to keep it from being tampered with by the hounds. But at least you won’t be cut off. You can get salt when you run low on stock. You can … begin sharing your knowledge with the outside world again.”
Benedict considered, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “This doesn’t mean you’ve atoned for your past, Butcher.”
“I know that.”
He hesitated but nodded. “Do it, if you wish.”
Freya bowed her head.
“I’ll come with you,” I offered.
Freya held up a hand. “I’ll be fine, Callum. And I want to see this through myself.” She nodded to Benedict, then slipped out the gate.
Benedict watched her go warily. “The circumstances are complicated. But I have to think of my people first. Her presence would be a … distraction.”
Freya had done nothing wrong, had been used by another. But humans reacted poorly when they were afraid or angry. Who knew what seeing her walking freely about town would have led to?
