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THEA
They were up before dawn and on the move again. As they rode for Tver, Thea knew something had shifted in them all. Though no one had commented, their pace increased, as though the closer they drew to Notos, the thicker the sense of urgency became.
Wilder and Torj had barely spoken all morning, and though she knew Wilder had a tendency for surly silence, the Bear Slayer was usually full of conversation. It made Thea nervous.
Ever since they’d left Thezmarr, she had managed to convince herself, by clinging to the happier moments, that there was not a war waiting for them on the other side of this journey… But there was.
There always had been.
The Daughter of Darkness and her army flashed before Thea, fierce and brimming with onyx power, ready to cast it across the midrealms in one great wave…
Something pulsed within Thea then, as if in answer to a question she hadn’t yet had the courage to ask.
As they rode hard through the valleys, Thea could tell by the tension in Cal’s shoulders that they were approaching his homeland. His mare cantered as close to the lead as Wilder would allow, and Cal’s eyes scanned the surrounding territory eagerly, ready for any sign of home.
But when they crested a rise in the land, Cal drew his horse up short with a gasp. For below, in a would-be sleepy hollow, was a village.
And it had been burned to the ground.
A strangled cry escaped her friend and he surged forward on his horse, ignoring the shouts of the Warswords he left in his wake.
Thea didn’t think about what dangers might lie ahead in the ashes. She simply went after him.
She heard Wilder yell her name, but she would not leave Cal to face this alone. The thundering sound of hooves behind her told her that Kipp wouldn’t either. But Warswords rode Tverrian stallions for a reason, and within seconds, both Torj and Wilder were ahead, streaks of black against the gilded land, aiming straight for the rubble that still smouldered in the near distance.
When Thea and the others reached them, they were already stalking across the ground, swords out. Thea leapt from her mare, unsheathing her own sword and surveying the ruined village. From the scorched framework that remained, she could just make out what would have been the town square and its surrounding shops.
Cal ran through the smoking ruins, kicking aside debris, clutching fistfuls of his hair as he stopped on the outskirts of the village before a pile of blackened stone.
Thea went to him, finding no words of comfort to offer.
He stared at the pile of stones. ‘That was our well…’ he said, voice distant. ‘We’re… we’re standing on our cabin.’
Thea looked at her boots. There was only ash beneath them.
‘There’s no one here,’ Wilder said, his voice stripped of emotion. ‘No remains.’
Cal stared at the ruined village, his lips moving, but omitting no sound.
‘I’m trying to tell you that there was no one here when this happened,’ the Warsword said, grasping the Guardian’s shoulder firmly. ‘Look at me.’
Cal did.
‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’ Wilder asked.
‘They weren’t here…’ Cal repeated.
‘No. They weren’t.’
Cal blinked slowly. ‘They got out.’
‘Escaped, evacuated… Whatever they did, they did it before whatever happened here. Torj is looking for tracks now.’
A sob broke free from Cal and he collapsed to his knees in the rubble.
Thea dropped down before him and threw her arms around him. ‘It’s alright, Cal,’ she murmured. Her friend sagged against her, his shoulders shaking as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Kipp crouched beside them, placing a comforting hand on Cal’s back. ‘You heard them. Your family, your sisters… They weren’t here for this shit. And Torj will figure out what happened to them, you hear?’
