With the very shadows it called home.
"What did I tell you?" Reese whispered. "Paragon weapons don't choose wrong."
The words sank a knife into my gut.
"We can't stay here. Hold on," he said. Without waiting for an answer, he swept his other arm under my legs and picked me up.
I clung to his collar, gripping Cierthine in a white-knuckle clutch.
Part of me wanted to drop it, to fling myself from his arms.
This was where I belonged, wasn't it?
With the monsters.
I remainedlost in a trance until I saw the bodies lying on the road. Panic jump-started my heart and warmed my limbs. Tearing myself out of Reese's arms, I raced down the muddy road.
"Mare!" Reese called.
Everything else was a blur. I had one name, one person on my mind.
Leaping over a tangle of charred black vines, I searched the bleak scene for my brother.
Two wagons lay in piles of blood and splinters. The rest were gone; only one remained intact. Two of its horses were dead. The other reared and screamed, trying to escape.
Bodies of guards, villagers, and monsters alike lay across the ground or slumped against buildings. The vulture I'd seen peer down at me had been killed.
Its corpse nearly matched the buildings in size.
An emerald dragon caught my eye, its wings feathered like a bird's. It hovered in the air above a steel-haired boy, body crackling with lightning.
Ferris looked up and caught my eye. He knelt beside a body wrapped in a black cloak.
A hint of red stuck out from the dark fabric—Liam's crimson vest.
Tripping over myself, I rushed to his side and dropped beside him.
"He's alive," Ferris said, breathing heavily. "I'm not sure what's wrong."
A warm hand touched my shoulder. "Let me see," Reese urged.
Standing, I let the Paragon kneel beside my brother. He laid a hand on Liam's chest, eyes closing in concentration. Light emanated from his fingertips, bathing Liam in its glow.
That was healing magic. I'd never seen anyone use it before. Only Solhearts could wield it, and I'd heard the talent was exceptionally rare.
Reese retracted his hand. "He's fine. No injuries."
I breathed out, shoulders slumping.
Bláth ran toward us, blonde curls darkened with blood. "Reese!" She called, visibly relieved. "I need you over here."
I looked past her. A young man was slumped against the wagon, blood pouring from a wound on his leg. An older man sat beside him, putting pressure on the gash.
Reese rushed to the wounded man's side. Bláth didn't follow him. She took a few steps back, like she was nervous, or . . . or afraid of the Paragon. Turning away, she approached me.
"Did you kill it?"
I nodded.
