Page 213 of Scorched Earth

Teriana’s breath caught as her eyes went skyward. Considered the greatest wonders of the world, the seven towers of Revat had once reached so high it was said they touched the clouds, but through the clearing fog, she saw only one remained. The black stone of the Seventh’s tower sucked in the light of the sun rather than reflected it, the semblance of a visage carved into the top seeming to shift and move, watching her.

“Revat hasn’t fallen to the Cel, it has fallen to the Corrupter,” someone said, but it was her aunt’s words that chilled Teriana’s soul.

“They are allies, sure and true, even if these boys won’t admit that the Seventh exists.”

TheQuincensedrifted closer, the typically packed harbor now only holding the Cel fleet and a handful of Katamarcan merchant vessels, and it wasn’t long until a legionnaire waved them into a space along one of the piers. Others moved to drop bumpers and catch lines, tying the ship off before a centurion approached, his breastplate bearing a 37. She immediately recognized him, for though she’d spent little time in the company of the legionnaire whose dark hair and angular eyes marked him as born in Faul province, Qian was well liked. He was also one of the few centurions who didn’t feel compelled to scream every order he gave.

“Qian,” she called down. “Good to see you alive.”

“I have to say, Teriana,” he replied, “I didn’t think I’d ever see your face again. What madness brought you here?”

“I need to speak to him.” She rested her elbows on the ship’s rail. “That possible?”

Qian pulled off his helmet, wiped the sweat from his brow, then put it back on before he said, “You can try. Command is in the palace. I’ll arrange an escort.”

“Stay on the ship,” Teriana ordered her crew. “If I’m not back in two hours, go to Serlania without me.”

Her aunt grabbed her arm. “No. If you think he’s going to hurt you, you’re not getting off this ship.”

“He won’t hurt me.” Teriana twisted her arm free. “It wasn’t a request, Auntie. It was an order.”

Not waiting for a gangplank, Teriana stepped onto the rail and leapt down onto the dock. “Lead the way.”

The damage to the city brought tears to Teriana’s eyes, for the towers dedicated to the Six were not the only things that had been destroyed. Collapsed buildings left rubble across streets. Rocks that had been flung by Cel catapults sat in smashed fountains and in the middle of courtyards, and the stink of ash clung to the air from all the fires that had begun as a result. But almost worse was the damage that had been inflicted by the flooding. Anything near the river not made of stone had been washed into the harbor, but now that the water had receded, a vile muck coated the ground and walls up to the water line, which was higher than she was tall. In the blistering heat, everything was turning to rot, and not, judging from the smell, just grain stores and property.

Marcus had done this.

“It’s mostly dead livestock,” Qian said from where he walked at her left. “The city was evacuated, and the military was all on high ground when the dam was burst. They surrendered not long after.”

She stepped over a dead chicken rotting in the muck. “Hard to hold out in a siege when there’s nothing to eat.”

“Yeah,” he replied, not sounding particularly happy about the victory. “Though I think it had more to do with Kaira’s death than anything.”

Teriana stopped in her tracks. “Kaira’s dead?”

It seemed impossible. The princess had always seemed as indomitable as… as the god towers in Revat’s sky. Teriana looked to the black tower of the Seventh, hands cold. “How?”

“She tried to destroy the dam while we were on the field, which would have killed half of the Thirty-Seventh and Forty-First. Never seen someone fight like her—she took down a lot of good men when they tried to capture her, but she was having none of being a prisoner.” He cast a sideways glance at her. “She died well, if that matters.”

“Dead is dead.” Teriana caught sight of a man in a legionnaire’s tunic hanging from the gallows in a market square. “Hanging your own now, too?”

Qian sighed. “We had Kaira’s shifter Astara as a prisoner. He aided in her escape, but while she was able to fly away, he got caught.”

Teriana stared at the dead man swaying on the breeze, his face having turned an awful bruised hue that made recognition impossible. “Who is he?”

“Atrio.” Qian’s jaw worked from side to side. “He was one of the Thirty-Seventh’s spies, and Astara was his mark. Though apparently she left a mark on him. One worth dying for.”

Her eyes pricked with tears, but she looked away from the dead man before they could spill and caught sight of the Sultan’s palace ahead.

It was undeniably the largest palace on all of Reath, dozens and dozens of copper spires reaching to the sky, though several had fallen victim to the siege. It grew colder with every step Teriana took toward it, and she was not the only one affected. Gooseflesh had risen on the arms of the legionnaires, and she said, “The cold you feel? That’s the Seventh God’s influence. By destroying the other towers, you gave him control.”

No one answered, but she knew they were listening.

“There’s been more violence, hasn’t there?” she asked. “Friends turning on friends. Everyone quick to anger. Quicker to lash out. Pestilence, too, I reckon, as well as animals dying. Crops failing. Things being bornwrong.That’s the Corrupter.” She lifted her chin. “You might think you serve the Empire, but you’re wrong. Right now, you serve the Seventh God.”

Their silence was telling, and Teriana left it at that as a familiar large figure appeared at the palace gates, his arms crossed.

“Teriana,” he said.