“Has any part of this journey been enjoyable,” I mutter.
“Oh, I can think of one.”
As I flush under my blue veil, he sets us off once more, and soon we are passing by the first of the burned-out homes. The stony foundation remains in place, charred, but otherwise solid, and the same is true for the hearth and its spine of bricks. Some boards and rafters have survived, although they are burned into ragged points. Personal belongings, however, are almost exclusively reduced to ash, although a cluster of overturned kettles and pots around the fireplace undulate beneath the blanket of soot, the table they were on no match for the inferno they were able to withstand.
We pass a couple of variations of this, but then less and less of the structures remain, until we arrive at what must have been the center of the fire. Here, noteven the mortar could beat the heat, the foundations naught but rubble, all the wood and textiles consumed, even the chimneys crumbled—
The snort of our horse makes me jump, and the chestnut shakes his head as if the pungent stink is irritating his nose, too. As the reins jangle loudly, I look to the snow-covered peaks far to our west and wonder if the sounds will awaken the dragons in their moonlit lairs.
At last, we come out to the far side, reaching the houses that are still standing. It’s obvious the blaze was carried by a northwesterly wind, for here, the damage is nothing but blackened stucco and closed, toasted shutters.
Merc pulls us to a halt in front of a two-story home that, given the flashes of paint up under the eaves of the tile roof, was painted with an elaborate pattern of lozenges. Everything else on the exterior has been stained with soot.
“Stay on the horse,” he orders as he throws a leg forward over our steed’s mane and drops to the ground. “We can’t lose him, not that he’s got any run left.”
The reins are pushed into my hands, and I gather them on reflex.
He frowns. “You hold them right for someone who’s never been in the saddle before.”
“I…”
My voice drifts into a tense silence as Merc squares off at the front door, his broadsword up.
Just as he makes his approach, the smoke-stained panels open.
Twenty-NineWater for the Parched.
Merc stops in his tracks and sinks down into his thighs, his body collected and ready to pounce. Through the crack at the jamb, the interior is darker than the moonlit night around us, so nothing is revealed. When no attack comes, Merc presses forward. I figure he’ll open the door the rest of the way with the tip of the broadsword. He doesn’t. He double-fists the hilt of the weapon and punches out his boot, kicking the thing wide.
There is a sharpclap!and he catches the panels on the rebound.
“Be careful,” I whisper as he enters.
In his absence, our horse comes alive, its ears twitching front and back, its tail swishing. There’s no stamping of hooves, but I know that’s from exhaustion. He’d be rearing up if he had the energy, and all because he wants to stick with our protector—
I jerk around. Scan what’s behind us.
The lane that we’ve come through on is marked with our lone hoofprints, the scuffing marks in the soot making me think of the black snow drifting from the Fulcrum. I know that the containment is quite far from here, but if the demons are already around my village?
They have to be here, too.
Merc reemerges with his sword still at attention, but his stance out of that crouch. “Nothing.”
But he’s not at ease as he comes over and offers me his hand. I shake my head and slip down to the ground on my own. My legs immediately protest the weight they’re expected to support, and I think of the animal who’s so faithfully carried us.
Merc and I go for the saddle girth at the same time.
“No,” I tell him. “You need to worry about what’s around us. Let me take care of him.”
I glance at that open door as I free his pack, and let it fall to the ground. Then I go to work on the buckles under the flaps of leather. Peeling the saddle and woolen pad off reveals a block of sweat in the horse’s short hair, and the groan of relief and the full-body shake that comes next make me feel both better and worse on his behalf.
We’re just going to have to do more tomorrow.
“Take him inside.” Merc is over at the far corner of the house, looking around it. “I’ll bring the saddle in, but first I’m going to try to find an uncontaminated water source.”
As I glance at the horse, I’m careful to focus only on its muzzle. The last thing I need is to learn that it’s slaughtered by a demon while that sweat stain is still drying. I’ve got enough to be terrified about in this burned husk of a settlement already.
“Come on,” I say, and tug on the reins.
