Andrian simply stood, holding Mariah’s body to his chest, and started off down the worn path to Andburgh. He was aware of Sebastian following, carrying his brother, but offered no other acknowledgement.
There wasn’t anything to say, anyway.
They reached Andburgh’s ruined square, lit by the mocking light of those hateful moons. Andrian tilted his face skyward, reveling in the self-torment.
Those goddesses had saddled Mariah with a burden too great to bear. They’d passed their sins to a twenty-one-year-old woman who deserved a longer life than the one she’d been given, knowing all along that she would fail.
He hated them. He hatedallof them, all those immortal fuckers who played with their lives like inconsequential ants.
He didn’t care if it was impossible. He would destroy them, even if it meant the end of himself.
His life mattered little now, anyway.
Though most of the buildings were burned or demolished, one still stood. Its simple wood door seemed to beckon in the moonlight, the last quiet refuge they would find.
They’d just found it too late.
The door was already ajar. Andrian pushed it open with his shoulder, taking care to pull Mariah tighter to his chest, sidestepping through the entryway so her feet weren’t caught on the frame. The room beyond was furnished with several tablesand chairs—likely some sort of tavern, before evil came to this place.
Andrian padded quietly to a long table near the back of the room. He gingerly laid Mariah down, her dark hair fanning behind her head, haloing her too-pale face.
He couldn’t tear his gaze from that face. He still found himself begging that her eyes would flutter open, that he’d get to see that incredible forest green again, flickering with silver-gold magic.
Sebastian similarly laid Matheo on a nearby table and collapsed heavily into a chair. He hung his head in his hands, fingers gripping tightly to his hair, his shoulders heavy and drooping.
Andrian knew he was overcome by grief. Knew he’d lost too much today, too.
But his heart was hardened, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be a friend. Not without her.
“We should bury them.”
Andrian hadn’t even realized he’d turned away from Sebastian until the other man spoke. Sebastian’s eyes were bloodshot and harrowed. He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. “I’m sure you know of a good place nearby. A place she might’ve told you about. A peaceful place.”
He did know. He knew all the stories from Mariah’s childhood—all the places she used to venture with her brother, all the babbling streams where they’d swam in the summers, all the open glades where she’d galloped Kodie through the snow in winter.
But those stories, those places, belonged to him now. He was not particularly inclined to share.
Andrian turned his back on Sebastian, ignoring his exhale of frustration. “Andrian?—”
Something thumped at the back of the room.
Sebastian shot to his feet, dagger already in hand. Andrian’s shadows had been quiet and still, but they finally stirred, reaching out like tentative fingers.
In the dim moonlight, he caught a glimpse of tattered white robes and dark, unbound hair.
“Anniliese Hareth.” His voice sounded dead and foreign to his ears. There was no life left.
The girl sobbed, curling herself tighter into a ball.
“You,” Sebastian snarled, charging past Andrian. Andrian halted him with an outstretched hand.
Dried blood stained her hairline. Her eyes were wild and crazed, tears heavy in her lashes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, clutching her legs tighter to her chest. “They took her, and I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her voice broke with another sob, as if the talking had set something free.
Slowly, Sebastian relaxed. Understanding spread across his face.
This girl was as much a victim of this terrible, gods-cursed day as they were.
