Page 105

The wind whistled through the empty streets, doors and shutters hanging open. Baskets of half-done washing were tipped over in the street, loaves of bread and wagons of fish left to the rats and roaches that were the only living beings left. It was as if life had existed in Blindbarrow one moment, and the next…

I trailed behind the Myrin brothers, both of them silent as they surveyed the devastation. I realized then that Miles had done this, been a part of this in Saints knew how many towns and villages. He’d forced leechthorn on innocent people, stolen their lives from them. I’d been able to return them to their bodies, but what about those who didn’t make it? What about those who’d ripped themselves to shreds?

Disdain bubbled up within me. How could he have followed Kauvras’ orders — Castemont’s orders, actually — so blindly? How could he have been a part of such evil?

Rhedros’ words flooded back to my brain.There’s a delicate balance between good and evil. The world can only exist in equilibrium.By that logic, evil had to have an equal pull against good. So could someone trulybeevil? Or were they simply acting in the way the world demanded? When the pull is too strong in one direction, is it even possible to act any other way?

My eyes locked on something in the street. At first I thought it was just a piece of cloth, maybe a handkerchief, but something about it drew me closer. It was… I bent down to pick up the ragdoll that lay in the dirt. It was worn and tattered, the loose strings and faded color evidence of a life spent clutched to a child’s side. I held the doll in front of me, trying to come to grips with the fact that the child who loved it… They were gone.

Miles suddenly broke away from his brother, running to the other side of the street and folding himself in half as he wretched, one hand on the side of a cottage that bore the scars of a fire that once raged. Belin watched him intently for a moment, trying to make sense of the sight.

I kept my distance from the Invisible King as we approached Miles slowly. His teeth were clamped, eyes squeezed shut as tears trailed down his cheeks and fell to the upturned cobblestones below. He shook his head side to side as if doing so could erase whatever he was seeing in his mind.

“I did this,” he pushed out between heaving breaths. I suddenly felt guilt rise within me for the thoughts I’d had, almost like part of me had believed he was following Kauvras’ orders for the hell of it. “I did this to people, and it doesn’t matter how many you saved, Petra, because there were so many that didn’t even make it to Taitha.”

Belin’s hand rested on his shoulder, silence settling over all of us as Miles choked on regret, his face contorted with pain. I could tell Belin wanted to speak, wanted to say something to make his brother feel better about his actions, but he just stared wordlessly.

Miles straightened suddenly, walking into the street, back turned to us. “This is why she left,” he murmured. “Because I was a part ofthis. Because maybe it wasn’t that child,” he pointed to the ragdoll in my hand, “but it was dozens of others. Hundreds. And their parents and friends and neighbors. I was blind to what I was doing, but she saw it for what it was. That’s why she left me, and she was right to do so.”

Belin took a step toward his brother, confusion chiseling a crease in his brow. “Who?”

He shook his head, rubbing his jaw as he looked up the street, bottles and shoes and remnants of lives strewn about. “Cielle.”

Cielle… He’d mentioned the name before…in Aera. He told me he’d lost the woman he loved, and that her name was Cielle. I saw Belin nod in understanding as he put the pieces together.

Miles spun to us, jaw squared, the hollow look of loss so familiar it hurt. “She told me I could either abandon my post or she’d leave, that she wouldn’t stand for me having any part in something like this.” His head dropped between his shoulders, the picture of defeat. “It’s not even as if I felt like my duty to the crown was more important. I just…” He exhaled hard, black eyes rimmed with red. “I still had no idea who I was then. I felt like this position, leading conquests like this, it anchored me. Itwasme.” His eyes fell distant. “I’ve ended lives by blade and by leechthorn. I’ve killed hundreds and felt nothing. And I lost her because of it. She went back home.”

“Where’s home?” Belin asked quietly.

“Coldwater, in the Surging Isles of Tadrana.” He could barely get the words out as the floodgates opened and Miles spiraled in front of us. We were watching him unravel, every bit of repressed violence and anger and guilt culminating in this moment.

“I’ll go with you,” Belin blurted suddenly. “Yeah, I’ll go with you to Coldwater. As soon as this is all over. You can find her again. I’ll help you.”

Miles shook his head, the bitter smell of loss hanging in the air. I watched him try to take control of his emotions, his face as neutral as he could manage. “I don’t intend to see the other side of this battle.”

Belin stepped forward. “Tobyas, I–”

“Tobyas is dead, Cal. He’s dead. Tobyas wouldn’t have done this.”

No one spoke, his words sinking in slowly, my heart aching as the meaning resounded through me.

A sudden clatter intruded upon the silence, my heart jumping in my chest as the three of us spun toward the noise. Belin’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the street, but everything was perfectly still. “Who’s there?” he called, voice low with authority.

A figure stepped out from behind a shop, tall and slim beneath a billowing cloak. They lowered their hood and raised their palms, as if they were trying to seem less threatening. I stared as recognition sparked in my brain, and before I knew it, I’d dropped the ragdoll and I was running,sprintingtoward the man in the cloak.

It was Ludovicus.

Rage overtook me as I lunged for him, my hand promptly finding his throat as he fell to his knees in the Blindbarrow street. A war cry built in me as heat erupted in my chest, Rhedros’ fury entering my body and taking control as I wrenched Ludovicus’ face to mine.

I didn’t know how he was here or why, butfinally, I would get a tiny sliver of sweet revenge.

But my scream died and my flames banked as I stared at him, into the eyes that had so mercilessly looked upon me in the Eserenian throne room. Because they were no longer depthless and empty; they were still dark as oil but somehow dimensional, somehow…human. The features that had been so sharp and menacing had softened, suddenly looking more man than monster. His skin was no longer translucent but a light olive tone, a deep flush rose to his cheeks that was quickly going purple beneath my grip. Hair fell around his face, and it was no longer raven black but a deep chocolate that looked like it could melt in the sunlight.

My grip loosened slightly as I wondered if I’d been mistaken, questioning whether this was Ludovicus at all.

“Kill me,” he choked out under my grip, and though his voice was garbled, I could tell it was no longer the slithering hiss it had been. “Daughter of Katia, I’m begging you to kill me. I deserve to die by your hand.”

I breathed through clenched teeth as I stared into his eyes, a plea and a prayer in the obsidian depths that now stared back at me. “I don’t understand,” I whispered, swallowing hard, my brows furrowed.