I was fairly certain that was a threat.
“Maybe you’ll need to add it to yours,” I snarked, heaving myself up.
“Don’t look down or up,” Harthon advised as my feet left the ground. “Just focus on your next immediate step.”
His instruction became my mantra as I climbed. The incline was steep but not fully vertical, allowing my feet some purchase as they moved in tandem with my hands. Still, my arms were trembling by the time the dirt wall morphed into a light brown, dimly illuminated by weak light.
I didn’t realize I reached the top until two pairs of hands hauled me over the edge. Limbs shaking with fatigue, I crawled away from the hole and flipped onto my back, eyes closed as I focused on catching my breath.
When I finally opened them, there were no tree limbs towering above me; only the swirling, iridescent walls of the Domus in the nearby distance, extending with an inward curve until they disappeared behind a dark layer of clouds.
Rain clouds.
I remembered them from my childhood, when the skies still had enough strength to give us the water our land needed.
There was movement by the tunnel exit as Harthon emerged, but it was all peripheral for me. I rose to my feet, scanning down from the walls until I was taking in our immediate surroundings. We were in a small clearing surrounded by brambles so dense and tall, I couldn’t see through them. They weren’t thick from leaves, but from the sheer volume of bare branches crisscrossing every which way, spikes jutting out in a natural defense. Naked and sharp, they were a clever, ugly camouflage, discouraging anyone from delving into them.
As Joris made his climb, Aric and Harthon studied the brambles around us. Metal zinged as they freed their swords and started hacking at a section, aiming to cut our way through.
Their progress was slow, but soon enough, they’d carved a thin line into the tangles, only bothering with those from the shin up. I watched anxiously as they kept at a steady pace, not appearing to need any help. When the sound of their blows paused, I eased in behind them, eager to see what waited on the other side. With their bulk blocking the way, it was impossible to make anything out.
What were they waiting for?
Aric’s shoulders heaved up and down, and he finally stepped out of the brush. Harthon followed him, his posture stiff. But neither told us to stay hidden inside the circle. There was no threat, which meant something else had strung them with tension.
When I emerged from the brambles and saw what it was, my observations took on new meanings—the dark, sooty clouds, the tangle of naked briars, the dirt beneath my feet that I hadn’t noticed until now because I was so used to it.
The land inside the Domus was dead.
Chapter 31
Ithought I knew what dead land looked like. I thought the bare trees, scarce food supply, and dull skies of the six Territories embodied what it meant to be drained of life.
Only now did I realize how naïve I was.
And the realization only worsened the more we walked and the more we saw.
We’d emerged in what might have been some kind of field. I saidmight, because there was no yellowed grass wisping across the landscape, only tree stumps in the distance, suggesting the edge of some kind of forest.
Or what used to be a forest.
The ground beneath us was so dry, it cracked in places like shattered glass. Beyond it, many of the tree trunks were without their arms, broken off at the top like the one we entered back in First Territory. Even the air was stiff and stale, no breeze whispering through to animate it.
It was an alternate reality, another world that belonged to monsters or spirits, becausethiscould not have ever been a place people lived. And it was most certainly not what itshouldhave been.
A sense of numbness enveloped me, one I felt seeping into the others with every kick of dust beneath our feet. This was ourhope. This was our savior. This was the only thing that could end our suffering.
And it wasnoneof those things.
When I glanced at Harthon’s face, that numbness receded only so heartbreak could snake in.
He wasdevastated.
He didn’t fall to his knees or curse the skies. But the roll of his throat, the speechless part of his lips, the pain in his eyes told me everything.
I couldn’t bear it, which is why I rasped, “Maybe it’s just because we’re so close to the walls. If we keep going, it could change.”
No one nodded, but we continued toward the tree line. Every step unveiled a new hopeless discovery—the crumbled skeleton of a small animal lying on the ground, a wilted brown seedling that had tried to find its life. Far in the distance, hidden by low-lying clouds, rose the shrouded outline of city walls. Sections had crumbled.
