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He stares at the pipe in his hand and sets it down. His mouth gapes open like he’s still smoking. Then he raises a hand to his face, digs his nails into the soft skin under his eye, and scrapes downward, tearing flesh. Blood gushes around his fingers.

Esme claps a hand to her mouth, and I touch her for the first time since last night in order to herd her away from the horrid tableau. I glance back as we venture down the road, but the old man remains seated, scratching his face to ribbons.

We hit the third town less than an hour later. Not a soul wanders this tiny patch of brown grass or the handful of structures lined up next to the road. Once again, either everyone wandered off in their listless delusions or fled the spread of the Withering by heading south to the major cities along the coast. We’re in and out of every silent building within minutes.

Another hour passes, and so does the Withering. Nature returns for a brief moment in the form of tree-lined windbreaks. The center plains of Meridia are well-known for their storms. Farmers separate their fields so their seeds and crops don’t get blown away. Planted as a way to corral growth, now they’re the only signs of life.

Esme clears her throat. “It’s spreading faster.”

I peer back at her and slow my pace so she can catch up. Here, the trees draw close to the road without even thin strips of Withering in between. A red-tail swoops low, landing in her nest as her featherless chicks stretch their beaks up to beg for sustenance.

This is taking far too long. Once I get some rest and fully recover, I’m going to knock Esme out and fly us both to the meeting spot, a split boulder deep in the forest near the foothills. I’ve spent too long walking and escorting the refugees. All for nothing. Time to leave.

Esme considers the barren road ahead, her jaw tight. The bird and her young go completely unnoticed. “A month ago, it formed as little pockets. Isolated incidents were scattered days apart across the kingdom.” She gestures at the gray expanse that once again intrudes on our path from both sides. “Now…”

She doesn’t need to finish.

Withering is everywhere.

The field to our right looks the same as all the others, but the air contains a different quality. I stop walking. “Something’s been nagging me like a splinter.”

Esme scans the gray horizon. “What? Do you hear something?”

I step off the road and across the ditch to crouch at the field’s edge, where gray soil meets grayer plants. “Hear? No. Feel? Maybe? Sense. I’m not sure. Fuck, I’m not even sure if it’s real or just unease from all this damned silence eating at my sanity. I would make the world’s most violent deaf man, I tell you.”

Ignoring her confused expression, I press my palm flat against the earth in the tangle of dying brush. My magic pulses down, soaking into everything I have sway over. Plants, roots, soil, rock…

A force lures my power beyond my control, drawing it into the dark where the rocks slide and sing a siren’s tune. Below that, the rock turns fluid, becoming the sweetest, most intoxicating drink I’ve ever had.

Heat builds. The earth rushes like a river slamming into a dam, yearning to break free. All I need to do is seize hold, and all my troubles would wash away.

Jerking my hand away, I jump up to escape the seductive impulse. What in the three hells was that? Despite being tucked away by magic, my wings ache to carry me from this land of grief and madness.

Dead grasses slither and hiss as Esme staggers over. “What?” She grabs my hand and inspects it. “What did you find?”

“Nothing.” I gaze at her hands, marveling at how small they are compared to mine. “A whole lot of it too.”

Esme’s shoulder grazes mine, and suddenly, I’m acutely aware of our proximity. How alive she feels compared to everything around us. How lonely I would be out here without her.

She wrinkles her nose. “What do you mean by a whole lot of nothing? Are you messing with me?”

While that does sound like a great distraction, I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I study my palm for clues, but the skin once again appears normal. Rubbing my fingers together feels normal too. “But the ground here feels wrong. Not just empty. It’s…hungry. The ground is hungry.”

Dropping my hand, Esme hops over the grass and gets back onto the road. Her eyes land on the spot I touched, then dart away as she shudders. “Hungry for what?”

Does she expect me to pretend like she didn’t abandon me when things started getting weird? “Magic, maybe. Life. I don’t know. But it tried to take something from me. Pulled at my magic like it was attempting to drink it down. The same way that creature felt hungry last night.”

Esme eyes the road in both directions. “Do you think they might be connected?”

I clap her on the back, relishing her scowl as I swipe my dirty hands on her cloak. “According to you, a Warden should be able to answer that. Right?”

She shoves me away. “I told you I’m still in training. I don’t know enough to be able to make any kind of determination.”

I want to believe her if only because I pray that a cure exists within this nightmare. But I’ve experienced too much to trust in miracle solutions, and despite her occasional helpfulness, Esme’s still keeping secrets.

We start walking again. Neither of us says anything for a while, but I can practically hear her sharp mind striving to create sense from the senseless.

By the time we enter the next village, though, she doesn’t seem to have found an answer.