"Because…" She searched for the words to explain an answer she wasn't even sure of herself. "I want to see for myself just how terrible Sinevia is. Otherwise, all I have to go off is your word—and that's not enough for me. If she really is as bad as you say, let me come with you."
"This is already a great enough risk as it is. She'll only be a liability." Gariel's words cut like a knife.
Asterious glanced at him. "Maybe." He looked back at Caramyn. "But who am I to stop her? I won't deny her the chance to understand what's going on. Especially when I've already made the mistake of denying her the choice to be dragged into it." He paused, the look in his eyes softening. "And for that, I'm sorry."
It sounded real. Not an excuse, not a deflection. But the confession of a man who understood the weight of his actions and knew, too late, that he’d been wrong. But there was still an edge to the way he watched her, as if waiting for her to back down from her request to join them.
"At least you finally admit it." She flicked her gaze to the two soldiers, wondering if they knew she'd slapped their prince a week ago. Then she stared at him, brows drawn and posture stern.
Asterious bowed his head in acknowledgement. "The horses should be ready in half an hour. We won't wait for you."
"You won't have to." Caramyn turned away with one last nod at the men, then hurried to go change into something more suitable for riding and to pack a few things for the trip. Within twenty minutes she was back down in front of the castle, watching Terrin lead the horses out into the cobblestone courtyard. The prince's eyes met hers beneath the hood of his cloak as he appeared with his entourage in tow. With a silent nod in her direction, he mounted Alofreise, and they were off.
They traveled east, through the same lush, golden forest they had passed on the way in, but instead of continuing straight on, they took a northern pass, through a small mountain that looked more like a hill in comparison to the grand snow-capped giantsfarther behind it. The journey was quick, and thankfully the weather was fair, if not unusually warmer than it had been, with an overcast sky and light misty rain that marked the turning of the season. Caramyn rode Frasya behind Asterious’ stallion, and she was grateful Terrin had taken the time to ensure the mare who’d saved her life could be her mount for this journey. She heard Nocthar's caw above them, but he stayed out of sight for most of the trip, her unseen guardian.
She refused to speak to Asterious aside from what was necessary, which wasn’t much. As long as she kept pace with the group, there was little reason to interact. And it gave her plenty of time to think about what she’d gotten herself into. She feared if Riven's report was true, she would find herself facing horrors all too familiar. The whole town was gone...burned to nothing, he said. Just like her home. Some part of her hoped he was wrong. That he’d overestimated the damage. She didn’t want it to be true, but it was the only way to even begin to confirm anything Asterious had told her.
Arriving at the charred remains of the city turned Caramyn’s stomach. The rancid smell of death and burning smoke hit her nose like a ton of bricks. Mounds of ash and glowing embers scattered the ground where houses once stood, some blackened frames still intact. Smoldering black plains were all that was left of the crop fields on the town outskirts.
They dismounted to lead their horses through the rubble, and Asterious commanded his men to spread out to look for survivors. Caramyn stayed by him and Tyrios, her eyes drinking in the horror. Streets that were clearly once lined with shops and buildings were now crumbling rivers of cinders and ash. Elaborate pillars of structures that once must’ve been beautiful were demolished, strewn in pieces near the edges of the city. Wisps of smoke still rose from the charred remains of houses.She had to choke back tears when she saw an overturned baby’s crib amongst the destruction, scorched to blackness.
“Why…why would she do this?” She couldn’t stop the question from escaping, even through the quivering lump in her throat.
“Because we fought back.” A voice emerged from the midst of the destruction. A man, his expression hardly readable through the grime and ash on his face, limped amongst the brokenness. The group turned to face him. “She sent them to burn our fields and destroy the temples, but we fought back. So instead, they destroyed everything. They killed everyone. My family. My children...”
It was then that Caramyn noticed what he held in his hand. A doll. A child’s doll, covered in soot and mud…or was it blood? A wave of nausea overwhelmed her, and she thought she might vomit right there.
“Are there any survivors?” Asterious asked, desperation breaking through a tremor she swore he was fighting to hide.
“The only ones who survived were the ones who fled fast enough…so few of them. And me, so that I could suffer. So that I could see what I’d brought upon us because I dared to ask her for protection for our city…and instead she sent destruction.”
“Who did? Who is she you speak of?” Caramyn asked through the tightness in her chest, sure that she was speaking out of turn, judging by the glance it earned from Asterious. But she didn’t care.
The man looked at her through bleary eyes, his lip trembling as he stammered. “The new queen. Queen Sinevia.”
“You’re wounded.” The prince gestured, drawing Caramyn’s gaze to a bloodied ripped spot on the man’s shirt.
“Yes, and the infection will take me soon enough,” the man murmured, his voice cracking though his eyes were void of emotion, staring off far away somewhere.
“No, let us help you.” Asterious stepped toward the man. “We have medics who can treat you. You can come back with us and stay in my court.”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary.” The man’s voice fell into a sudden calm, and the shift sent an eerie chill through Caramyn that left her cold with dread.
“You’ll die without treatment.” Asterious pleaded.
“That’s the idea.” The man turned to walk away.
The prince strode after him. “I know you feel hopeless. You’ve had everything taken from you. But please don’t let yourself succumb to this. Don’t let her win.”
Caramyn and Tyrios followed close behind as the man reached out, grasping Asterious’ sleeve with a gentle tug as if to lead him on. “Come,” he said, and brought them to the edge of a hill that dipped down into a shallow valley. He pointed. “You see down there. I stayed behind to make sure there was someone to give them some dignity. Every last one.”
Caramyn breathed in to keep herself from buckling to her knees at the sight below. Dozens upon dozens of bodies, lined in rows and positioned carefully to look as at peace as possible. The man continued as Caramyn closed her eyes. Even though she had watched Shadows destroy grown men and tear their souls from their bodies, nothing had ever disturbed her like this. The man continued, the unsettling calm still in his voice. “I buried my son and daughters this morning.”
“I’m…I’m so sorry. Nothing can replace your family. But I promise you I’ll do everything I can to stop this from happening again.” Asterious’ spoke tenderly, and Tyrios stayed back to allow him the space to persuade the man. “Just please, come with us.”
“I don’t even know who you are.” The man said. “So why would I go with you? When the only place I want to go is with them...” He looked down at the graves of his children and then reachedfor the sword sheathed at the prince’s waist. Asterious went to stop him, but when his hand touched the sword, he was jolted backwards by a burst of dark sparks, and he shrieked in pain. Tyrios had already lunged forward but couldn’t pull the sword from the man’s grasp before he turned it on himself and plunged it into his stomach.
“No!” Asterious cried out as the man dropped to his knees, blood filling his mouth as the life left his eyes and he fell forward off the hill and onto the graves below. Caramyn looked away, her stomach sinking.
