14. Chapter Fourteen

Nero and I ride side-by-side in silence as we canter towards Larnwick. A group of soldiers follow behind us with wagons for prisoners and arms to defend the town. According to the guards, the King has sent a troupe to Larnwick already during my absence to inform the people of the incoming danger and protect them. I am only glad Edmund stayed in Shadowvale this time around. He needs to regain his strength and allow his wounds to fully heal. A familiar pressure constricts my chest as I prepare myself for what I will find once we reach our destination.

Thanks to Kieran's vision, we have a time advantage of two days. Once we reach the town by nightfall, we will set up our defenses and prepare a trap for the rebels, but our plan can only work if the seer's prediction is accurate. Worst-case scenario, we will reach Larnwick and be welcomed once again by death and destruction. Not as the saviors we should be, but merely there to help with the consequences of the attack.

Memories of the ambush that destroyed Astrakane still haunt me. The seer had foretold of an impending attack that would result in our citizens being ambushed. To prevent this, we decided to arrive a week early. It was only a three-day ride southwest of Shadowvale, so we made the necessary arrangements. However, when we finally arrived in the city, a pungent smell of smoke and burning debris filled the air. The sight that awaited us was nothing short of heart-wrenching. Half of the buildings had been reduced to smoldering ruins, all valuables had been taken, and half of the town's population, including shifters and elementals alike, had been slaughtered. As we watched the chaos unfold before our eyes, a feeling of hopelessness and despair overwhelmed us. It was as if the gods were playing a cruel trick on us.

What sort of evil creature would kill their own kind and take off with the spoils?

Bile burns in the back of my throat at the memory of loading the surviving shifters into wagons to be questioned. Memories of tears streaming down their faces burn in my mind. It's not the most desirable outcome, but it is necessary. Ever since the first attacks, Shadowvale's security council has deemed it safer to capture all the remaining shifters found at the towns and villages ransacked by the rebels and take them to the capital. There, everyone undergoes a trial to uncover potential rebel sympathizers and spies, but blinded by my own hatred for the shifters, I never stopped to consider just how many prisoners were eventually deemed guilty by the royal court. But how could the shifters be both the attackers and the attacked? My theory of the possible existence of two rebel groups comes back to me.

"Aramis." Nero takes me out of my thoughts. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are pressed together. "Ye have nae said a single word since we left," he says, and I am forced to contend with the guilt of making my best friend worry about me when I should be the one concerned about his state. The way Tricella treated him inflames my rage and I curse myself for not stepping in.

Glancing sideways, I look once more at my friend's profile in the rising sunlight. "Don't worry about me. I just have a lot to think about," I say, sounding less convincing than I hoped I would.

"You did what you could." Nero looks at me, and I sadly realize there are not many people left in this world that truly see me, like my friend does. I nod, unsure what to say and focus on the path in front of us.

I wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for Nero. Not a week goes by that I don't recall the day he burst through my bedroom doors and rushed me to see a healer after a vagabond group of shifters sliced their blade against my collarbone. Raising a hand, I rub the scar under my vest.

Only eight summers had been known to me when my world shattered.

The raised flesh makes my expression deadpan, the wound occurring only moments after my mother–the true queen–had been brutally murdered by shifter assassins. And hell, I would have been next If I didn't have wind magic to throw them over the balcony's edge, to which Nero would have walked in to see my corpse.

All for a shifter's war.

The very people that Sybil belongs to.

Taking a deep breath, I sit up straight, trying to keep my emotions at bay. I used to rush to these missions with such ferocity, ready to inflict my vengeance upon any shifter I could find. Why do I feel like I am the villain now and no longer the savior? Sybil is an anomaly, not the rule.

The cold winter winds pick up as we make our way out of the woods. I adjust my cloak to the best of my abilities and think about Sybil's warm body nestled in front of me during our journey. She is probably undergoing her trial right now, and I have to stop myself from turning around and running back to the castle as fast as I can. Sighing, I grasp Percy's reins with more force. Our paths intertwined for a moment, but were never meant to stay together. If the Gods are willing, I will see her one last time, just once.

***

Thick plumes of smoke rise high into the sky, casting a dark shadow over us. The acrid stench of burning material fills our nostrils, making us cough and squint our eyes. The crackling sound of flames can be heard from a distance, the heat so intense it"s as though we are standing too close to a raging fire. I glance at Nero beside me as we slow the horses to a walk. He nods his head, confirming my suspicion that we've once again arrived too late.

Fucking Kieran.

"Let's split up. I'll look for signs of the rebels at the north of town while you head south." Urging my horse, I make my way through the buildings. The only sounds I hear are the cries of ravens circling above. Deep claw marks scrape the sides of buildings, leaving dark gouges. Multiple houses stand in ruin, their roofs collapsed and charred. Smoke lingers in the air, obscuring the view of the surrounding area, gray flakes of ash floating around me. The smoldering fires cast an eerie orange glow, illuminating the destruction. The scene is a haunting reminder of the devastation the rebels can bring.

"Is anyone out there? Come out and show yourself," I call out while looking for signs of life. Where are the guards my father had promised he'd send to protect the towns? There is no sign of any creature, living or dead.

A loud crack resounds in the air and I whip my head around, my horse whinnying beneath me. I watch as flames burst out the window of a building across the street and the roof slumps inside, defeated. A large wooden sign hangs from one corner. The painted words "Margerie's Bookshop" are barely legible from the smoke stains. A pang of regret clenches at my chest as I imagine all the tomes inside. The dry thin pages being mercilessly consumed by the flaming beast. Instinct urges me to run into the building and rescue any remaining books, but duty compels me to turn my horse and continue on our path.

"Aramis, ma lord!" Nero calls out from in front of me, leading his horse by the reins. He must have made it full circle around the town already. I spot something in his hands as I slide out of the saddle and approach him. There is a crunch under my boot as I take a step forward. A rag doll lay squashed under my foot. I scoop up the discarded toy and regard its simple brown hair, brown eyes, and olive tone skin before I notice two fluffy ears atop her head. Frowning, I let the doll fall to the ground where it sends up a small cloud of dust and ash. Where is the shifter child it belonged to?

"I found naething except this." Nero hands me a large, monstrous claw. "Nae sign of anyone, elemental or shifter."

I scowl at the large jet black claw in my hand. It is nearly the length of my forearm with a wickedly sharp point.

"What shifter has a claw this size?" I ask as I hand the monstrosity back to him.

"None that I am aware of. It makes me wonder…" Nero trails off as he runs a finger along the edge of the claw, his brow furrowing in concentration.

"That the shifters have grown considerably larger in the last couple of decades?" I laugh, but the joke rings hollow to my ears.

"Nae. I wonder if we aren't dealing with rebel shifters, but another creature entirely." Nero looks up and meets my gaze and I cross my arms over my chest in defense. The list of certainties I have lived by for most of my life are crumbling one by one. First the possibility that not all shifters are involved with the rebels, and now the existence of a new enemy entirely. If the claw does not belong to a shifter, then maybe it belongs to one of the monsters that roam Craeweth? But everyone knows those creatures live far within the woods. Why would a monster this size venture so far out of its habitat and kill all the inhabitants of a town of this size?

"Nonsense. Here I thought I was the one with my head full of tales. Have you found a fondness for reading after all these years, Nero?" I try to defuse the situation. It would do no one any good to panic now.

He punches me lightly in the arm. "If ye spent more time in the training yard and less with yer secret pastime, perhaps I wouldn't kick yer arse so easily when we spar. But Aramis, I truly feel like there is more to this attack. Look around ye. We've never seen destruction of this caliber in the past."

"Each attack in the last year has become more gruesome, Nero. They're getting desperate. They've even killed their own…" My thoughts return to the discarded doll. What is the point of destroying a peaceful village where elementals and shifters lived together? How did this attack help their cause? Doubt lingers at the back of my mind as I cast my eyes across the burning remains. Something is not adding up, but I am not ready to contemplate the depth of all that seems wrong.

"This does not look like an attack of desperation. This looks like malice." Nero tucks the claw into his bag.

Pulling myself back up into the saddle, I turn back towards the palace. "There is nothing to report here. We might as well head back to the castle."

Something is very wrong about all of this.