Page 66 of Scorched Earth

Not a moment too soon.

In the distance, the noise of hundreds of footfalls grew louder and louder, brush crunching beneath feet as the dead civilians of Derin marched across the countryside. Lydia allowed her mark to take hold, but while her companions glowed with life, the blighters were midnight shadows ofnothingas they moved closer, then beneath the branches of the trees.

The smell of old blood, urine, and vomit drifted up from the horde, the stink almost making her gag as she silently counted them, losing track after a thousand. Lydia’s body ached from keeping entirely still. She was afraid that even the tiniest movement, tiniest sound, would attract their attention, but they only pressed onward. The frontrunners seemed whole and strong, but those that followed tripped and stumbled. As they drew closer, Lydia saw many had visiblybroken bones, falling when their legs gave out only to crawl forward on hands and knees.

Despite seeing with her own eyes that they were dead, nothing more than corpse puppets commanded by the Corrupter, the scene still made Lydia’s throat burn with bile. She could only imagine how her companions, who could not see that the blighters were dead, felt to witness the horror.

Minutes passed. Then hours.

Yet it felt like eternity as they waited for the last crawling members of the horde to pass them by, dawn illuminating the blighters as they slowly moved into the distance. Only then did Killian climb down, checking their surroundings before softly calling out. “I think we’re in the clear.”

Lydia clambered down, relieved to finally move her stiff muscles.

“That bitch killed them all.” Agrippa stared at the trail of footprints the blighters had left. “Killed her own people to create another army for no other purpose than to hunt us down.”

A snuffling filled Lydia’s ears, and she saw that Baird was weeping. “Three years I spent in Derin, and I can attest these people didn’t deserve this.” He wiped at his face. “Most were born to these lands and were doing naught but trying to survive beneath Rufina’s tyranny, and the tyranny of every demon who came before her.”

Agrippa didn’t answer, only stared into the distance, his fists clenched. Lydia could feel the anger seething from him. The guilt. For the first time, she felt certainty in her heart that he was truly on their side, if for no other reason than that they fought against Rufina. She met Killian’s eyes, and he gave a nod of confirmation before saying, “Does this change the plan?”

“There’s a reason why Derin is as isolated as it is,” Agrippa replied. “Twisted seas and a coast made of swamp to the west. Liratoras to the east. Icefields to the north. Desert to the south. At least with Anukastre, there’s safety on the other side, which you can’t say for the rest. Plus the deimos can’t tolerate the heat, and Rufina herself won’t risk following on foot, which makes the sand dunes mighty appealing.”

“Except she knows that’s where we’re going,” Killian said. “All those blighters aren’t just going to disappear. We’re going to have to get past them at some point.”

“The Eyrie, most likely,” Baird muttered. “With any luck, they’ll all just walk over the edge.”

“Edge?” Lydia asked.

Baird and Agrippa exchanged long looks, and the latter said, “We still set on south?”

Killian’s eyes went distant, then he nodded.

“Right.” Agrippa rocked on his heels. “Well then, as we walk, allow me to tell you about the edge of the world.”

25MARCUS

Marcus rubbed at his temple, his head throbbing, but he ignored it in favor of drawing a piece of paper in front of him. Tapping a pencil against his chin, he wrote:To Her Royal Highness, Princess Kaira.

He stared at the line for a moment, the words splitting into two, then three, then scratched it out and wrote:General Kaira.

Writing in Cel, he detailed the Empire’s belief that a terminus stem was located in Emrant and the Senate’s desire for it to be opened to traffic for trade, which would be mutually profitable for both nations. He finished with a few sentences explaining the Senate’s hope to achieve a peaceful and lasting alliance with Gamdesh.

Lies.

A sudden chill passed over him, and Marcus shivered, reaching for his cloak right as a knock sounded at the door. “Come in.”

Atrio stepped inside. Dressed in standard legion kit, the good-looking young man appeared much like any other man in the Thirty-Seventh but for the fact that his dark brown hair was longer than regulation. Yet beneath the armor was a more significant difference in that he bore no legion tattoos on his brown skin. Chosen for this duty before graduation, he’d not been marked with a legion number as the rest of them had been, and he’d also had the tiny identification number that had been placed upon him when he arrived at Lescendor removed. Atrio was a chameleon who learned languages at shocking speed, his ability to mimic accents and mannerisms almost unnatural. He’d also been deployed in civilian garb to Gamdesh within days of their arrival in the West, where he’d remained until recently, making him one of Marcus’s most valuable resources.

“Sir.” Atrio saluted and removed his helmet.

“How do you fancy returning to Gamdesh?”

Atrio shrugged. “I got a girl in a port town just north of Emrant. She thinks I work on merchant ships that trade down the east coast of the continent. It’s just a matter of me sailing into her harbor with a gift or two from my travels.”

What made the spy good at his job was his ability to create relationships, but Marcus had never envied him his many false lives. Though if Atrio worried about the broken hearts he left in his wake, he never showed it.

“What’s her name?”

“Astara, sir. She lives in the garrison in a fortress known as Imresh north of Emrant. I was working to find my way inside before I was recalled by Titus, but the Gamdeshians have Imresh locked up tighter than the virtue of a Senator’s daughter. It’s where Kaira is stationed, and I’d hoped to get eyes and ears on her.”