Like the fact that Alois didn’t ask me to sleep in his room; the sleeping arrangement didn’t go unnoticed by the cadets accompanying us on this trip and whispers seemed to follow my every step as Leal and I made our way into the great room of the tavern, the embers from the fire still glowing bright.
The wake-up call was early this morning—both the twins and Leal were wincing painfully at every sharp sound and sudden movement—but after the twins’ story last night, I hadn’t slept at all.
When we finally made our way to the horses, I saw Lex and his Vessels already mounted. With little fanfare and even fewer words, we thanked the horse master for stabling our horses forthe night before mounting again, ready for another hard day’s ride.
“Judging by the lack of . . . excitement I hear this morning, I’m assuming we all imbibed a little too deeply last night,” Alois’ voice boomed through the darkness, spooking a few of the horses and cadets alike.
My head swiveled, instantly spying him mounted atop his large black warhorse, nearly hidden by the trunk of a large tree. I could tell immediately that something had him on edge—his face was pinched, muscles coiled tight as he held the reins in a white-knuckled grip. Even Alois’ horse was restless under him.
Grumbles met Alois’ statement, and his eyes darkened even as they zoomed about, unable to focus on any one thing.
“Fuck, that’s unnerving,” I heard a cadet mumble a little too loudly and I inwardly winced. Alois’ gaze instantly stilled, zeroing in on the young man. He was younger than I originally thought, probably no more than twenty, with gangly limbs and unruly chestnut hair that didn’t seem to want to lay straight.
“You. Dismount,” Alois barked, and the man looked around wildly before awkwardly pointing to himself.
“Yes,you. If you have the gall to insult your lord and commander, you have the wits to find your way back to Vespera alone. If you do make it back, I do not ever want to see your face or hear your voice. Take this as your official dismissal from the Academy.”
The boy paled before shakily dismounting, nearly catching his foot in the stirrup as he did so. He stumbled awkwardly for a moment, unsure where to look or retreat to before Lex pulled his horse aside the boy’s now-riderless mount.
“Best get going, before he makes it even worse,” Lex said softly. The boy nodded once while wringing his hands together.
“How am I going to pay to keep my ma and pa in their house now? This . . . they needed me.” The boy’s voice crackedat his admission, and I turned my face away from the scene, not wanting to feel the sorrow emanating from him in waves.
I felt his pain so acutely it was almost staggering. I rubbed my breastbone to try and ease the ache and looked back in time to see Lex focused on the motion, brows furrowed.
Lex shook his head incrementally, eyes clearing as he bent toward the boy and exchanged words too quiet to hear. The boy bowed his head and scampered back toward the tavern.
“Anyone else want to insult their lord this morning?” Alois drawled and a chorus of “no, sir” sounded through the air.
“Chaff, Iris, you will channel the entire way today. I want the ground working with us to make it to Cellia in the early afternoon.”
The two Earth Mages in question—a large man with tawny skin and a small waiflike girl with short-cropped bronze hair—nodded in ascent, though I didn’t miss their uneasy glances nor the tight set of their jaws.
“If there is nothing else to delay us then, we leave at once. Same formation as yesterday,” Alois called, almost bored, before turning his gigantic horse around and leading the way out of Myrefall, expecting us to follow like dutiful soldiers.
The rideto Cellia was odd. The ground moved beneath our horses’ hooves, which allowed our group to travel at twice the speed as normal. The effect was almost nauseating, especially if I looked down, so I tried to keep my eyes trained on the back of the cadet in front of me. Leal and the twins tried to make conversation at points throughout our trip, but I found myself in no mood to converse—I was still, somehow, feelingthe aftereffects of the scorned cadet’s pain while continually ruminating over the musician’s words from the night before.
We stopped once for lunch and to let Chaff and Iris refill their crystals before we began our trek again.
The trip was incredibly uneventful—no travelers passed us on the road, and there was barely any wildlife to interrupt our progression. The landscape was just as bland; flatlands surrounded us as far as the eye could see, the trees of the Runewood left far behind. The only change was in the quickly warming temperature both as the day progressed and as we made our way further south.
It almost lulled me into a sense of security, nearly made me forget the fact that we were traveling not for pleasure, but to see the destruction the rebels caused.
Just after midday, though, things began to change rapidly.
In the distance, growing larger with every hoofbeat, was a black line of what I quickly determined were people.
“Refugees,” Leal muttered as we drew nearer.
Suddenly, with no preamble or discussion, the ground stopped moving beneath our feet and our speed returned to a normal cadence. The lurch and quick change had more than one cadet leaning over the side of their horse to vomit as we continued to gallop toward the line of refugees.
“Aw, disgusting!” Tine lamented as he wiped vomit from his face and tunic. I wrinkled my nose at the smell as Leal tried to hold in her laughter.
“It’s not funny, Leal!” he exclaimed as Leal fought another giggle.
Smiles even pulled at Talamh’s and my lips.
But all mirth died—a palpable silence descended over our entire group—as we passed the first wave of people fleeing from the south.
