Page 296 of Scorched Earth

Most especially the Thirty-Seventh.

“Have the centurions remind the men not to drink anything,” Marcus said to Felix as they approached the city. “Not to eat anything. It seems the Mudamorians were successful in their attack on the blight, but we have no way to be certain that parts of it don’t linger.”

“Yes, sir.”

Great trenches that had once been filled with blight now sat empty, as though a dark god had carved up the land with a knife, and Marcus wondered how long it would take for life to come back. Whether the power granted by the Six would reclaim this land, or whether itwould remain dead for years to come. An endless reminder of the toll that evil took wherever it reigned.

Mudaire reared ahead of them on the barren plain. It was a formidable fortress city that Marcus suspected had once been a difficult nut to crack, though now it was abandoned, the portcullis open, the gates swinging gently on the breeze.

“Set up a temporary camp.” Marcus tucked the Thirty-Seventh’s ledger under his arm, then said, “Felix, choose twenty good men. Quintus, with me.”

On foot, they entered the dead city of Mudaire, the violence that had besieged it written in the burned buildings. In the rotted corpses littering the streets. In the blackened blood that splattered far too many walls. Marcus wondered if this city would ever be reclaimed by the living or if too much horror had marched through its streets and buildings, turning Mudaire into a tomb.

“Lydia said it’s beneath the palace,” he murmured, gesturing toward the large structure that perched atop the cliffs overlooking the sea.

The city was not large, and it did not take them long to reach the palace, their footsteps loud as they walked up the grand staircase to the main entrance. One of the doors had been torn off its hinges and discarded in the fountain. The interior was sacked and ruined, but echoes of what it had once been still remained. Every time Marcus blinked, he saw men in finery and women in gowns dancing to music he could not hear, their mouths open in silent laughter. Ghosts, or perhaps memories that clung to the walls of this ancient palace, whispering their stories to any living person who passed through.

Marcus stepped over bones and dried blood as they ventured into the lower level. His men roved ahead to find the entrance to the tunnels, forced to move more bones and debris to clear the way.

“We should scout it first before you go down,” Felix said.

“I’m not concerned.” Marcus took a torch from Quintus and descended the ladder into the darkness.

The tunnels were close and oppressive, smelling of rot and mildew, and very faintly, of the sea. The latter made him press his free hand to the breastplate of his armor, under which hung Teriana’s hair ornament on a string, the metal warm against his chest. He had no information about where Teriana might be or how she fared, but he hoped that she was on her way back to Lydia. That she’d find her friend victorious, and… and if there was any mercy in the world, she’d not think of him at all.

“Here’s the branch,” a voice called from ahead.

This tunnel was narrow, and he vaguely heard Felix muttering about what a nightmare it was going to be to move so many men through such a tight space, but Marcus’s eyes were all for the marks of battle. Bloodstains and places where blade tips had scratched the rock, and he swore he could hear the screams. The clash of weapons. Feel the fear that had leached into the stone.

Then the xenthier reared ahead of them.

The space around it was small, but the stem itself was larger than most, jutting vertically out of the rock nearly up to his chest.

“So it’s here,” Felix murmured. “But does it go where Lydia says it goes, or is this just a clever attempt to have her revenge?”

“Lydia doesn’t want revenge.” Marcus dropped to one knee in front of the stem. “But more importantly, she doesn’t need it.”

“Still, her information is old. How many years ago did she travel through this? Fifteen?”

“Sixteen.”

“I struggle to believe that a terminus exists this close to Celendrial and it’s never been discovered. It’s not on any of our maps.”

“Only one way to find out. Have the men wait for us at the branch.” Once Felix had given the order, Marcus straightened and looked at Quintus. “One last job?”

“Last?”

“Yes, though you don’t have to do it.” Pulling the ledger out from under his arm, Marcus flipped to Quintus’s number, then wrote next to it,deceased.He signed and dated it, then did the same for Miki’s number, crossing outinjuredand replacing it withdeceased.“You can go right now and take him. Racker’s with him and he knows not to stop you.” Flipping through the ledger, he found Agrippa’s number and scratched outdesertedand replaced it withdeceased.“Find Agrippa. Or Teriana. She’ll no doubt be sailing to join Lydia.”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say Teriana’s name since she left,” Quintus said, then he scuffed his sandal against the rock. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted to be done with this life, but now that it’s upon me, I…” He swallowed hard. “This is the only life I’ve known. I don’t know how to be a normal man.”

“Normal men walk the same way we do,” Marcus answered. “One foot in front of the other. Besides, I marked your death in ink, so you can’t change your mind now.”

Quintus choked out a laugh. “Right.”

“It’s your choice,” Marcus said. “But there’s no one I trust more to see this last job through.”

No one he trusted more to find Teriana and watch her back through whatever came next.