“Do you have no heart? No conscience?” I begged quietly, some of the fight leaving me at both Sasori’s sneer and Alois’ stony expression. “I couldfeeltheir panic, their desperation. Theirpain”—I rubbed my breastbone at the lingering sensation, a movement which caught Lex’s eye again—“you couldn’t say anything? Encourage them to continue to Vespera?”
Alois sighed, and Sasori shook her head sharply.
“You don’t get it, do you?” she intoned again. “It isn’t aboutthem, it’s about what or who sent them. Nothing close to this level of destruction and mass movement of refugees has been seen since the Sundering. If they have any sense at all, they’ll make their way to Vespera. If not,” she shrugged her shoulders as if the death of hundreds of innocents was simply an acceptable currency in this war.
Maybe it is.
“I suggest you find your place in line again, cadet,” Sasori sneered the word when it was clear that Alois wasn’t going to interject or reprimand her for speaking to his wife in such a way.
Some marriage this is.
Hot tears burned my eyes, both from frustration and embarrassment, but I blinked them away as fast as I could.
“This conversation isn’t over,husband,” I spat the word with the same respect Sasori showed me. Alois finally turned his gazeto me. “Preferably when your female guard dog isn’t around to interrupt us.” Sasori looked like she was ready to throw herself out of the saddle at me, her deep-brown eyes sparking with hatred, but a quick snap of Alois’ fingers had her stalling in her seat.
I couldn’t help the smirk that lifted the corners of my lips.
“Good dog,” I purred, and Sasori actually growled.
I thought I heard a laugh quickly disguised as a cough from either Ilyas or Lex, but I couldn’t be sure over the thundering of my heart.
“Back in line, Ellowyn. We’ll reach Cellia soon if the smoke in the air is any indication,” Alois said in the same deadened tone as before.
I huffed sharply before pulling back on the reins, not deigning his dismissal with a response. If that’s how he was going to act toward me—if that was how he let others treat hiswifeand the supposed future queen of Elyria—then I wanted little to do with him anyway. My horse came to a stop, and I let the column of riders pass me. I ignored their open-faced looks and barely restrained snickers until I came even with Leal again.
We rode in silence for a few moments, the high from my adrenaline finally wearing off until I sagged slightly in the saddle. I was exhausted—from the night of little sleep, the all-day ride, and the confrontation just now—but knew the hardest part of our day lay ahead.
The sky was slowly thickening with the scent of ash and burning wood as smoke encircled our group, becoming so thick that it almost obscured the afternoon sun completely.
“I hope you saved some of that fire and bravery,” Leal said in a hushed whisper as we crested a small hill. “I have a terrible feeling we’re going to need it yet.”
I tore my eyes from her grim expression and gasped at the sight before me.
Cellia wasn’t just ravaged—it was a burial ground.
Chapter 53
Torin
The sound of squeaking carts bumping over the cobblestone road and the braying of donkeys mixed with the delighted squeals of children and the soft murmur of conversation as hundreds of refugees swarmed the outer edges of Vespera. I stuck out immediately—my clean, sharply tailored jacket and pants a stark contrast to the worn and ill-fitting garments, boots with holes in the soles, and threadbare winter cloaks of the refugees.
Thank the gods I didn’t try to disguise myself as one of them. That never would have worked. My lips quirked slightly at Ellowyn’s aghast look when I told her that portion of my plan.
No, it was much better to enter as myself.
The crowd slowly maneuvered into five separate lines, each feeding to a pair of Mages that checked bags and papers. Surprisingly, the line moved quickly, the Mages directing refugees to different places in the lower sector that had available housing and work. I was unsurprised to hear that many of the refugees wanted to join Lord d’Refan’s army.
I stuck my hands in the pockets of my pants as I neared the front of the line.
“Name and location of origin,” a guard barked not unkindly.
“Torin d’Eshu, Lord of Iluul.” I spoke loudly enough for all ten of the guards stationed to hear me. As expected, their work halted at my declaration.
“What are you here for, Torin d’Eshu?” the guard with soft brown eyes asked, skepticism lacing every word. I gave his broad shoulder a friendly pat.
“I’m here to join the Academy. I hear you need every soldier you can get.”
The man grimaced as my grip tightened before he shrugged my hand off. He exchanged a quick look with a female Mage—her ebony-skinned, hulking Vessel glowered at me with mistrust—before she jerkily nodded her head.
