Someone had camped here recently. The ground was disturbed, and remnants of a fire rested in the circle of trees.
Had this been where we’d camped before Seth had lured me away?
I took a step forward, but Phaedrus pulled me back.
“Look there,” he said, nodding toward the pile of charred wood.
At first, I assumed the impressions in the dirt were footprints—Whisper’s, perhaps. Jagged claw marks extended from round hoof marks, smaller in size than Athena’s.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Though the Empty does not spread here, a different kind of danger haunts the darkness,” Phaedrus said. “Seems someone was visited by monsters.”
The only monsters I knew of lived in fairy tales. Worried, I pulled from his grip and trotted forward, but no sign of my friends or our animals appeared.
If they had been attacked, they’d escaped.
“We should camp,” Phaedrus suggested. “Before something else finds us.”
Hurrying to his side, I swallowed nervously. “What kinds of monsters does Duath Nun have?”
“Dragons,” Phaedrus said. “If Seraphim’s tales are to be believed. And creatures distorted by the Empty’s presence. Horrors that should not exist.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
Finding a cluster of trees down the beach, Phaedrus dropped his satchel. “Luckily, they aren’t terribly common. Keep quiet, douse any fires, and we should be fine.”
Pulling a lantern from my belt, I lit the flame and set it down. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“About Ainwir? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.” Phaedrus rolled out his bedroll. “Ainwir the spymaster was very much the same man you knew. Stern, harsh. But he would occasionally sneak you a pastry from the kitchen even when your parents said no.”
A grin stretched across my face, imagining Ainwir sneaking a young Seraphim treats.
A rush of tears threatened to spill from my eyes, and I looked away, rubbing them dry. My lips trembled, and I pressed them together, holding back the tide of grief.
“Ainwir did love you,” Phaedrus said softly.
“And you killed him,” I spat, baring my teeth.
The lantern flickered. Cinders danced across Phaedrus’ eyes. “I did not kill him, Aethra. If anything, I was lax in my vigil. He escaped.”
My breath caught as I digested his words. “ . . . what?”
“My men chased him down.Theykilled him.”
Hope flared in my heart, and I squashed it down. There was no point in hoping foranything.
Phaedrus tilted his head. “You’re right. There isn’t. But I will say this: I never saw his body. They claimed the sea took it.”
My mouth warbled, and I backed up against the tree. Pulling my knees up, I watched the nobleman from across the flames. Silence stretched between us as the last daylight fled and night consumed the world, blanketing us in shadow. Wind rustled through the trees, and waves crashed in the distance, the only reminder we did not sit within the Empty itself.
Calm, still, comforting. Falling asleep, never to wake. No more pain, or sorrow, or anger.
I let my eyes flutter closed, imagining the silence.
Maybe Phaedrus was right. Saving this world wouldn’t save people. Preventing their deaths would only grant them a life of suffering. Of abuse, of rape, of loss. Nothing would change. Those who crawled in the dirt would be trampled by the elite on their gilded steeds.
I gasped. Had Phaedrus forced his emotions onto me? Locking eyes with the redheaded noble, I reconstructed the walls shielding my thoughts.
