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With a trembling finger, he swiped the screen to the next picture and a choked whimper escaped him. The square. Every summer festival. Harvest moon feast. Weddings. Funerals. Ceremonies to mark the children moving into adulthood. The ceremonies to celebrate when someone reached a new achievement within their trade.
Everything.
Everything was held within that square. More than even the chief’s home, the central square of the village had been the lifeblood of the Sousa Clan.
Now…it was nothing. The ornate statues that marked the four points were broken stones. Grasses and creeping vines covered the elegant stonework that had been painted brilliant colors. The banners, lanterns, and stone tables were all gone, eaten up by the forest and its creatures as if the Amazon wanted to erase all memory of the Sousa.
He sucked in a ragged breath and rushed headlong through the pictures, as if the speed would make it easier to swallow.
It didn’t.
He could recognize the houses now, even though most were barely standing. Some were little more than a wall or two.
But he saw Cusi’s home. And Huallpa’s. Both had gone to fight with the dragons and were dead now.
Oh gods, that was where Nand and Inti had lived with their daughter, Palta! Nand had gone to fight, which meant Inti and Palta would be waking to find they were without a husband and father.
Chasca and Copacati had lived next door to Nand. Copacati made the best bread. Had made. She’d invite Amaru over to fix little things and always paid him in warm bread. Both women were gone now.
So were Ozcollo, Atoc, Supay, Urpi, and Micos.
Two thousand three hundred and forty-seven Sousa Clan members gone.
Little more than four hundred remained alive now.
And the dragons.
A wretched, broken sound lurched from his parted lips and he quickly covered his mouth with his hands.
The dragons. The lightning dragons, their closest neighbors for centuries. Their protectors and friends. Fuck. They had been family. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d crossed through the village and not seen a half dozen dragons wandering about.
They were all gone but a handful now.
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. They’d had a plan. The damn plan was supposed to save them. The stupid slumber machine didn’t matter even if it malfunctioned in the end. The king of the Lightning Dragons and his eldest son had come up with a viable scheme for defeating the Woodsfather. The bulk of the Sousa Clan and the dragons had worked it all out to fight the Woodsfather back and beat them once and for all.
Yes, they’d expected a few casualties, but not many. After a few months of stalking, hunting, and fighting, they were going to wake up the most vulnerable of them and return to life as normal. Little Palta’s daddy was not supposed to die!
Chasca and Copacati weren’t supposed to be dead! They should have been right there with him so he could tell them all about his two dragon mates.
It wasn’t right. Why was he still alive? This wasn’t fair. So many people who he’d known and loved were dead now. Should he have argued harder to go with the others to fight? Would they have lived full lives if he’d been there?
Amaru was the first to admit he didn’t know a damn thing about fighting. He knew a handful of protection spells, but actually killing something…that hadn’t been his forte.
But maybe he could have thought of some tech to protect the warriors and dragons.
Maybe…maybe he could have come up with something…and they would have lived.
Another choked sob left him and he squeezed his eyes shut, but it was too late to stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t breathe. His entire body was shaking, the pain lancing through him, squeezing his lungs so no air could get in. It was like jagged shards of glass were slicing his throat each time he tried to breathe and all that left him were more broken cries.
“Amaru?”
“Amaru! What’s wrong? What happened?”
Vasily and Luka called out for him, their voices frantic. He shoved the hideous tablet away and turned toward the sound. Tears blinded him, but he didn’t need to see them. A pair of strong arms gathered him up, followed immediately by another pair, holding him so fucking tight.
From feel alone, he could tell he was sitting in Vasily’s lap while Luka wrapped his arms around them both. The smaller dragon wiped his cheek and pressed kisses along his temple while Vasily rested his cheek against the top of Amaru’s head and rubbed a hand up and down his spine in the most soothing fashion. Just being sandwiched between them made it easier to draw a breath.
“What happened, dearest heart?” Vasily whispered.
“I-I couldn’t sleep. I thought…I looked through the pictures of the village. My village. And…and I kept thinking of everyone who was lost. All the friends I would never see again.” He turned his face into Vasily’s chest, rubbing his forehead against his sternum. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They weren’t supposed to die.”
