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Bodies were strewn across the ground, their limbs and faces contorted—at least, where they still had limbs and faces.

Nerys stepped around a man whose face was nothing more than a hacked apart mess, with white bone visible amongst the congealed red.

His mouth was shattered, his entire lower jaw hanging out of his mouth.

When humans were like this—torn to pieces—they were the same as butchered animals.

Nothing but dead meat. Nerys quickly turned away.

And things became worse. A child laid facedown on the ground, a muddy doll still clutched in his hand.

An old woman lay next to the child, with a stab wound in her stomach, the blood dried to dark brown on her shirt, and pieces of innards peeped through the hole.

Nerys blinked back tears and followed Idris through the field of death.

At least this place was smaller than Raven’s Crest—there were only several dead.

Only.

Idris turned back to her, his face wracked with concern, his eyes red from his own tears. His hand clenched his sword’s hilt as he took in the scene. “I think the ritual scene is up ahead.”

Numb, Nerys nodded. Idris’s face—he was distraught. There was no way he was responsible for this. Living Gods, what was this, that their enemy cared more for Ca’mail than its own ruler?

Nerys trudged through the carnage after Idris.

Too soon, they came to the same twisted scene she had beheld in Raven’s Crest. Five bodies—and once again, they were placed in the same star pattern, their entrails entwined around them, the color dulled from drying in the air.

Men, women, and a single boy nearing manhood.

The same scene. The same fucking scene. Nerys gagged and covered her mouth. 71

“We need to bury them,” Nerys said. Her shoes stuck in ground that was wet with blood as rancid smoke stung her eyes. Dark clouds hid the sun, as if even that orb couldn’t bear to witness the scene. The area was cold—from more than just the temperature.

“They’ll be taken care of later, one way or another.”

“What?”

Idris’s face was stone. How many times had he seen something like this? “The R?ll’s men will return and dispose of them. All that is left then is a massacre with only corpses to tell the tale.”

“They don’t stay in the village?”

“No. They watch in the outskirts. And get rid of witnesses. And leave once their task is done.” How did she escape Raven’s Crest, with the men nearby?

Afraid of being seen by her former neighbors, she had slipped through the darkness and kept to small paths, hiding from everyone.

Nerys shuddered. That decision probably saved her life.

Nerys backed away from the scene, looking at the ritual’s burning mound with a distance she did not have last time. Learning. What was this next to the burning herbs? Bloody teeth with broken roots? And…fingernails caked with blood? A spinal cord with pieces of flesh still attached…

Bile rose, burning her throat.

The same scene. The same fucking scene. Idris was right—this was no coincidence. It was a ritual. And that meant the R?ll…

“You were right,” she whispered. That was enough. She had to get away. She couldn’t take another moment. She ran past the mutilated corpses to the edge of the houses, Idris following behind. “Why?” Nerys sobbed, her pace slowing. “Why would the R?ll do this to us? He’s supposed to protect us!”

Idris hesitatingly stepped towards Nerys and wrapped her in his arms as she cried. Wind rushed around them, sending the smoke away. If only it could send away everything else. Her memories.

“He thinks that this demon will end the war,” he said. “He thinks he’s going to save lives, or so he tells himself. It won’t work.” 72

“I don’t care if it works. How can he do this? What is this demon supposed to do? Why—why is he doing this ?” Nerys broke off into a sob. Her family was dead—for nothing. How many others had died? And what did the R?ll want with this demon? What was worth the cost of so much death?

Idris bent his head down to hers, sheltering her. Even here, under him, the memory of burnt homes and bodies carried into her mouth. This had to end. This needed to end. If only she could lean into him and forget everything.

“The lady, our host, can explain it better,” Idris said softly.

“I don’t know much about demons, but I do know this.

The demon needs payment—a certain number of sacrifices, who meet certain requirements.

73 It seems someone 74 promised that the demon would serve Abnar by killing the other ruling families, leaving him the sole survivor. Break the curse that way.”

Nerys wiped her eyes. “He doesn’t care about us,” Nerys said. “We’re toys to him. He’s trying to conquer all five kingdoms. That’s his goal—not saving lives by breaking some curse.”

“Abnar is good at lying to himself.” A common trait in the powerful.

Nerys shook her head. “And what am I supposed to do? I can’t stop this.

Me ?” None of this was supposed to happen.

She was supposed to be with Cefin. With Adilette.

With her parents. Not. Here. Her breath heaved and her world swam, leaving her to find something to cling to before she lost herself entirely.

“Nerys—”

“No. This…this should not be falling to me. Me . I shouldn’t be here. I should be home .”

Pity filled Idris’s face. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “I know. But you can stop him. You can avenge your family.”

Could she? She’d have to lie and scheme. Learn lessons of someone else’s life. Kill the best-protected man in the kingdom. Could she do it?

Adilette, following her in the woods.

Adilette’s ghost, her face warped in agony.

Adilette…

She could. She could do anything for revenge. For her life that was taken from her .

Adilette was dead because of this pathetic excuse for a ruler.

He deserved to die in turn. Painfully. Ravens cawed in the trees, announcing a fresh meal, shaking her to the present.

Nerys clenched her fists. She could do something.

She could stop him. And she would. There would be no running—she was going to kill the R?ll.

As if Idris knew what had passed through her mind, he nodded.

“We have to stop him—if the summoning works, killing the rulers would be just the beginning. He couldn’t conquer every kingdom at once, but it would make it easier, with the disorganization that would follow with all of the current rulers dead. ”

“Civil wars—”

“Are the bloodiest of all.”

It wasn’t just her revenge at stake. If all five kingdoms were plunged into wars as factions fought to fill the void in leadership—there’d be nothing left. Nothing worth living for. Many other sisters would lose their Adilettes before the end.

“And you need him dead, because the spell to summon the demon dies with him,” Nerys said out loud for the first time.

“Yes.” Idris gently touched her cheek, turning her towards him.

“Now do you see why we need you? Our plan before was to prepare for the death of our monarch, sabotage Ca’mail’s army, and hope for the best. Anything else was a wish.

But with you—we have a chance to prevent many more deaths.

There’s only so much that fake maps and fictitious dead Cerdorani commanders can do. ”

“Fictitious commanders?”

Idris shrugged. “I’ll tell you more later—we have a long ride back. But now—now that you’ve seen everything, Nerys, will you—”

He didn’t need to ask. “Of course.” And she would. Nerys was ready to gain what she wanted all along—revenge. This time, she had a target, the means, and a plan. “I need to do this. Adilette was—”

The pounding of hooves entered the village behind them.

Soldiers. On horses. Ca’mailian soldiers, their signature blue, the insignia of the eye, skeleton, and king glinting in the sun.

Ca’mailian soldiers—just as Idris had said.

Their own horse was dozens of yards away, munching on grass.

Too far—and the soldiers were now between them and their way out.

For a moment, the soldiers took in the scene of corpses, their expressions unreadable, until their attention homed in on Nerys and Idris.

“Stop,” one of the soldiers ordered. He was a clean-shaven man, likely their commander due to his gold edged cloak and gilded sword.

“What are you doing here? What do you know of this?”

Were these the men the R?ll sent to remove signs of the ritual? Were they the “cleaners” Idris had called them? More like butchers.

“We’re trying to make sense of it ourselves,” Idris said, slowly stepping away from Nerys.

Her breath became jagged. Would they let them go?

Idris was obviously no mere peasant. His armor was black and nondescript, but expensive.

Should she run? Would she manage to get far enough for it to matter? She watched Idris—he would be her clue.

“You—woman,” the soldier said to Nerys. “What are you doing here?”

Nerys swallowed. She was well dressed too, for this village, in new wool and a fur-lined cloak.

What could she tell them that they’d believe?

Maybe if the soldiers thought they were too well-connected, someone important, and would be missed, they would let them go.

“We’re returning home from visiting my cousin,” she said.

“The road led through here.” She wiped her eyes. “If only we had gone the other way.”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s your village?”

“Raven’s Crest,” she said out of habit. Shit.

The men dismounted and stepped towards them, pulling out their swords. What little amusement that had been on the men’s faces vanished as they approached—they were the R?ll’s creatures now. “Raven’s Crest was destroyed weeks ago,” the commander said. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”