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Chapter5
GRAESON
Burned lumber,shattered glass, and rubble covered the streets. And ash. So much ash had settled on the destroyed buildings and layered the piles of charcoal and timber. As the villagers and soldiers trudged through the remains of the rubble, ash floated in the air. It coated their hair, attached to their clothes, and stuck in their lungs and noses.
Destruction was all around, but for once, Graeson wasn’t to blame.
At least, that’s what the others kept reminding him. It wasn’t Graeson’s fault, his friends had said, that the Frenzians had brought foreign weapons to their shore and destroyed their homes. It wasn’t Graeson’s fault that the person he was fated to be with had betrayed them without a second glance. It wasn’t his fault that Kalisandre had led the enemy to their shore.
But it was.
He should have known. He shouldn’t have let himself become blind by her return.
Ten days had passed since the fire burned down the seaside village, yet the smell of smoke remained potent. It covered everything it touched like a thick blanket.
Seven days had passed since Fynn’s funeral, yet grief still soaked the soil.
Every day, Graeson tried to bury himself in all the work that had to be done, including cleaning up the mess left behind.
The days were easy. During the day, there was plenty to do: rubble to remove, houses to build. By focusing on the reconstruction, his emotions fell to the wayside easily.
The nights, however, were haunted by his thoughts, nightmares, and desires. Once he stopped moving and was alone, Graeson couldn’t prevent the onslaught of thoughts. Everything he had run away from when the sun was out came rushing back.
Usually, Graeson thrived underneath the moon, when the stars lit the sky, when the sun rested. Now, Graeson dreaded the night because he could no longer distinguish between the facts and the falsehoods. At night, everything was gray.
Not a night had passed since she came back into his life when Graeson did not think about Kalisandre. How she stood on the Frenzian ship and watched her brother get thrown overboard. How she turned her back on her family without looking back.
Those thoughts weren’t the ones that kept Graeson up in the middle of the night. It was her carefree smile as she danced alongside Myra, the soft press of her lips that quickly turned hungry, the unbridled laughter as they ran through the hallways to the cavern’s roof. Were those moments together false?
Kalisandre had kept her motives hidden from them all.
In the days leading up to the fire, Dani had questioned Graeson and the twins about Kalisandre’s reserved tendencies. Graeson and Fynn, however, had defended her. Kalisandre needed time, Graeson had said—time to acclimate, time to get to know them andtrustthem again.
Now, Graeson couldn’t help but wonder if Kalisandre even tried.
Although, if Fynn was right about his suspicions, she couldn’t. According to Fynn’s assessment, something was preventing her. But if Fynn had truly believed that was the case, why had he only confided in Graeson? Why hadn’t he trusted anyone else with the information?
“Because Dani and Terin need proof,” Fynn had said. “They all will.”
If the others knew something was off from the beginning, they wouldn’t have let her in. They wouldn’t have given Kalisandre a chance until they knew what was preventing Fynn from accessing her mind.
At the time, Graeson understood where his friend had been coming from. Before, there was no point in worrying the others, not when Kalisandre was finally acclimating. Or so it seemed.
If only they had trusted the others. If only Graeson and Fynn had listened to them.
It did Graeson no good to dwell on the past because when he tried to sift through the events leading up to the attack, he only grew more confused, more conflicted.
Still, he couldn’t stop his mind from trying to find a way to fix everything. Every night, he tried to form a plan that would solve everything. But every night, he came up empty-handed.
Everyone was grieving, everyone was angry, and everyone was tired. A plan could not fix that.
Sensing his thoughts about to spiral, Graeson reached within and closed off that section of his mind. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew what shutting off his emotions did to him, how it made him feel less . . . human.Other.
Turning it off for a moment wouldn’t hurt, though.
Graeson tossed a piece of charred lumber into the bin and focused back on the task at hand.
