Page 67 of Ravenrose

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ayer’s exasperated sigh devolves into a low growl before he turns, his gaze scanning the row of quiet houses ahead. With his eyes off me, I chance a quick look at the window, relieved to find the curtain still and in place.

“Where?” he asks again, his voice deep and laced with warning.

My throat tightens, but I say nothing. Loyal or not, I’m not about to be the reason someone in this village winds up dead.

He reaches behind his shoulder, unsheathing the mighty black blade he carries on his back. The onyx steel glitters in the fading light of the day.

“Nothing, huh? Well, why don’t we go investigate then, shall we?” He reaches out and grabs hold of my arm, hauling me forward several paces while I fight against him, digging my heels into the dirt, though it’s no use, and soon enough I’m facing the cottage. The one with the window.

I go rigid when Ayer’s attention falls on the little house. The rest of his men close in around us, weapons ready, dark intent in each and every one of their eyes.

I swallow hard and my eyes dart once again to the little window, but there’s still no movement. The curtain hangs still. I offer up silent prayers to the gods that I had only imagined it.

Not wasting any more time, Ayer stalks up to the door, banging his fist against it so loudly I flinch.

Nothing but silence answers him.

Ayer motions something with his fingers, and four of his men step forward, kicking in the door before I have a chance to blink, and all four disappear inside.

Screams and the sound of a terrified child fill the air, and I’m certain all the color drains from my face, my eyes slowly rising, finding Ayer’s.

He’s glaring at me. A muscle in his jaw tightens before he takes a step back, clearing the entryway before his men reemerge, dragging a woman out with them. She’s holding a small bundle of cloth clutched tightly to her chest, but her attention is behind her. Another soldier trails them out; this one holds a small, crying boy in his arms. He must be no older than four years.

The woman implores the man not to hurt him. Her eyes dart wildly at the sight of a small contingent of soldiers dressed in black armour outside her door, first searching for an escape before quickly surrendering to her fate after weighing the odds.

She’s already in rough shape. Dark circles ring her already red-rimmed eyes, the rest of her face pale and hollow. It doesn’t look like she’s bathed or even changed her clothes in days.

Ayer releases my arm, stepping forward to address the woman.

My magic swirls, brushing up against the rune, an overwhelming urge to protect the woman surging inside me. Ayer’s not gone a second before Wyatt replaces him at my side, though he keeps his hands to himself, meeting my eyes before turning his attention on his captain, his jaw tight.

Upon approach, Ayer sheathes his sword, though it does nothing to comfort the trembling woman. When he reaches her, he extends his hand slowly, carefully pushing the woman’s hair back to reveal her ears. Small and perfectly rounded.

A small, shaky exhale escapes me. Human. She’s human. Relief floods through me.

A sharp cry sounds from the cloth the woman is holding in an iron grip to her chest. Her face pales even further, going as white as death when Ayer’s attention drops to the small bundle. Another quiet cry reveals the tiny infant she tried to keep concealed.

Seeming to dismiss the woman as a threat, Ayer glances back at Hayes. “Search the remaining houses. Check for others.” His eyes flick to me, just for a second, his face unreadable, before he turns his attention back to the woman.

“Are you alone?” he asks her, his voice gentler than I expect.

The woman looks as if she might answer before fear clamps her mouth shut and she bites her lip, though she gives him a quick nod in response.

Ayer scans the street—the other dwellings—as his men burst into the remaining cottages, though so far, none have turned up any other residents.

“Why are you here alone?”

She searches for her small child. He’s still in the soldier’s arms, no longer crying but hungrily biting into a strip of jerky the man must have given him. She clears her throat. “Yesterday, a rider delivered a warning.” I’m assuming her screaming is what left her voice hoarse. She glances nervously up at Ayer before her eyes find the ground again. “He said Kovari soldiers were coming, and that Rosecliff had fallen.” I stiffen at the mention. “The decision was made to evacuate, but Josi—” A sob slips free, her lip trembling. “She’s been running a fever for days, refusing to eat.” Her grip tightens on the baby as the fear in her eyes gives way to anguish. “She was too ill to journey, thus… we stayed behind.”

“All by yourself?” Wyatt asks from beside me. His eyebrows lift in surprise.

The woman’s gaze lifts to Wyatt’s. “My husband— He stayed too. But when Josi got worse last night, he left to go find help.”

Hayes returns, stopping to address his captain. “No one else here, sir.”

Ayer nods. “You searched every house?”