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I made the sign of the three mothers on my chest. Something I never did. Something I hardly believed in, but all those poor souls we’d left behind, all those males now condemned to such a terrible fate…I owed them something since I was safe and they were not.
Since I was alive…and they were not.
Raz’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing, his arm coming around me and folding me into his shirt, crusted with dried blood, his heart beating fast beneath my cheek.
I couldn’t help but feel this—like so many other terrible things—was my fault.
I’d ruined the king, even more than he was already ruined. If this was vengeance, his way of getting back at me by turning an entire army into monsters, then I was done.
Done with all of this.
There was no winning against creatures as soulless as the king and the Oracle and even Torin. Nothing was worth the cost if I had to kill and kill and kill just to make this world a better place.
A better world could not be built on death.
Bones were no foundation for the future.
“I left the entire Solarys army behind on that field.” Zor’s voice shook, the words taking a minute to make sense. “There is only a small skeleton force in Blackcastle, enough to guard the Keep, maintain peace in the city, but most of them were here. Our spies told us we’d face a hard-fought battle, so I brought all our forces.”
I became aware of how tightly leashed Zor was keeping himself, the stone-hard set of his jaw, the blackness of his eyes, as if he had just realized the most horrible thing.
Zorander Vayle was afraid.
He jerked his head to the wall behind us. The wall Ember—the Soul Reaper—had crossed over just weeks ago. “If all those soldiers become Reapers, the Fae King has the means to defeat Solarys, and I handed his victory right to him.”
There was no pretense of Zorander hiding his shame or his guilt, not any longer. Everything was laid bare in the rawness of his voice, the agony etched on his face. Zor would never ask for comfort.
But he needed some. I wrapped my arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his neck, pulling him down to me. “None of this is your fault. None of it. You brought enough men to win this war. You planned for every known contingency.”
Because Zor was thorough, and he would have done all those things.
“The Oracle trapped us all—me, you, Raz, your soldiers. She trapped us, with plotting that goes far beyond anything you can control or anticipate.”
His big body was a wall of tension against me, shaking with rage and helplessness.
“Those were my men, Anaria.” His voice broke. “Theytrustedme. They followed me here. And now they’re…”
“I know,” I told him, cradling his head against me, wishing I could give him something other than empty words. “And they came here to fight for you, because you’re a good leader and they respected you. You saved us, and now we need you, Zor. Raz and me…we need you.”
“And what the fuck am I supposed to do”—his vicious growl vibrated through my whole body—“when I couldn’t save a single one of my men?”
“You’re supposed to keep fighting, Zor. You’re supposed to never give up, even when the odds are…bad.”
Bad was an understatement, but he finally relaxed against me, his arms coming around my waist, his head buried in my shoulder.
Raz reached out, squeezing Zor’s shoulder, and he shuddered. So much guilt, so much pain, and I wanted to take it all away, but only time could heal the most grievous of wounds, and today’s defeat was something Zor would carry with him for a long, long time.
“How far can Reapers fly? Can they get into Solarys?” Another horrible thought hit me. “What about everyone in Tempeste? All those prisoners we set free? Are they infected, too?”
“I don’t think Soul Reapers discriminate between soldiers or shopkeepers,” Raz pointed out quietly. “My guess is, everyone who can’t get away will become infected.”
“Gods, how could there be so many Reapers?” I shuddered, unable to shake off the horror, or the sight, of that enormous cloud. “Where did they all come from?”
Raz blew out a long breath. “The king kept them in reserve, somehow, though I don’t know how you imprison an entity made of smoke and mist. Maybe the fire set them loose, maybe Carex saw an opportunity and freed them, but now…” This pause was longer.
“Now he has an army of monsters. They don’t need food or water. They will fight without fear, without hesitation. They will do his bidding, just like…”
Raziel went silent and didn’t bother finishing that sentence.Like Ember.
