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Ellie’s red-rimmed eyes shone with unshed tears. Her voice shook. “Talon didn’t want me to come, but I think there’s something you need to see.”
Arianna exchanged a quick look with her mate, then pulled on her boots and slid a few knives onto her person.
Arianna’s heart thundered as she and Rion followed Ellie from their cabin refuge toward the stairs.
The city. Ellie was taking them into the city.
Arianna paused. “I’m not sure—”
“You need to come.” Was Ellie’s only response and the cold sad tone had Arianna’s feet moving. Arianna’s magic churned in agitated swirls when they passed the sentinels standing guard, but the pair stepped back, giving all three a wide berth. Those stationed at the base of the stairs did the same.
Arianna couldn’t remember the last time she’d come down from the family’s estate, but the way Ellie’s heart raced prevented Arianna from appreciating the sights.
They marched through the city, winding between buildings before crossing a bridge over the central river. Ellie stepped onto the main path and quickened her pace.
The smell of blood hit Arianna first, thick and nauseating. Grim memories surfaced, stealing the warmth from her bones. She thought of iron chains, of empty painful stomachs, of the way freezing rain had made her body shiver so violently she was sure she wouldn’t see another sunrise.
She always had.
Arianna didn’t know when she’d started running, only that Rion and Ellie followed close behind.
She pushed through a small crowd, heart thundering in her chest but instead of helpless humans or half-breeds, Arianna found a dozen purebloods on their knees. Their hands were bound and Móirín warriors stood over them with weapons and magic out.
She glimpsed a split lip, a few black eyes, and splattered blood across their clothes. Arianna stared into their eyes and her lips parted.
They were … Angry. Afraid.
She ventured closer and one spit at her feet. Rion’s magic hit him hard and the male’s back collided with a nearby structure that groaned from the impact. He fell limp then screams filled her head. Arianna thought it was more ghosts from her memories at first, then turned toward the gate. Her stomach dropped. Not memories. This was real. Very, very real.
Arianna took off again. The thick scent of blood wasn’t from the dozen Fae they’d captured. It was coming from outside the northern gate.
She ran through it and came face to face with a scene that looked exactly like the war camps she’d spent sixteen months surviving in. Tents lined the area and their occupants were wrapped in thick blankets, all huddled around fires to stave off the morning chill. Warriors and civilians alike rushed past carrying bandages while others stirred what she could only assume would be their breakfast.
Her body was shaking now.
Nightmare. This had to be another nightmare.
Arianna spun at the sound of a whip and her hair rose on her arms, but it was only the crackle from a fire. A chain rattled—no, not a chain. Her head whipped around when the wind shifted gain and the revolting tang of blood drew her into the unfolding chaos.
Arianna could see them now. The injured. Those moaning in agony.
A dozen. Two dozen. Gods, what had happened here?
Bodies were being carried on gurneys, the healers from Móirín doing their best as they bandaged wounds and administered medications for those screaming in pain. A child sobbed to her right. A female to her left.
Arianna’s mind had gone silent. Fatalities. Factions. Danger. They’d warned her and yet . . .
Later. She could think later. Arianna darted to the child first and sank to her knees. The female youngling clutched her arm close and her wide frightened eyes begged to be taken from this hellish place.
Arianna’s hands glowed. She didn’t have time to coax the child into trusting her, not with everyone hurt. Dying. Screaming.
The child’s eyes widened, she cried out, but the bone in her wrist shifted back into place and Arianna held her tight, reattaching the muscles and ligaments that had snapped off from the bones.
Someone to her right gasped and Arianna pointed to the child. “Take care of her.” Then she was running to the next body. This one a male, his leg pouring blood. They had a tourniquet around the limb, bloody hands pulling it tight as healers tried to shove medicine down the male’s throat.
Arianna’s hands were on him then, right over the blood and she let her magic work, finding the artery to stitch it back together. Then the muscles. Then she was moving onto the next, not bothering with their questions.
She healed another child. Then a female with fractured ribs that had penetrated her lung.
