Chapter 51

“Ashie,” I said. “Slow down. What’s the matter?”

The warrior shoved her gear into her bag with more **** than necessary. “I need to go to Wolfsend.”

“Why now? Did something happen?”

“It’s personal.” She didn’t look at me.

“And you can’t wait for Seth to get back?” I asked. I didn’t know what had her this rattled, but I’d never seen her like this before - panicked, hurried, trembling.

She slung the bag over her shoulder. “No.”

She brushed past me and out of her room. I realized, a beat too late, what she’d forgotten.

“Ashie,” I called, scooping up the flint she’d left behind and hurrying after her. She didn’t slow, and I had to nearly run to keep pace, her long legs carrying her forward quickly. “Slow down. You’re not thinking straight. At least take your flint.”

She stopped and turned. Color crept into her cheeks, the hard, heedless momentum in her expression faltering as awareness caught up with her. I pressed the fire starter into her hand.

“If you’re worried,” she said, shoving it into a pouch, “have Seth come find me when he gets back. I need to go. I’m sorry.” She turned toward the door again.

“Ashlara.” Serah’s voice cut through the moment, stern in the way I’d only ever heard her use with the children - and only rarely at that.

The orc stopped, though she didn’t turn.

“If this is important,” Serah continued, “at least let me take you. I can have you there by evening.”

Ashlara turned this time. She met Serah’s gaze, something working behind her eyes, then gave a single, decisive nod.

“Children,” Serah called, “stand back.”

She slipped out of her dress and handed it to me, then walked fifty feet or so from the house. Her body rippled, arms and legs stretching absurdly, then thickening with terrible grace. Her neck lengthened, her back twisted, her face warped and reshaped. Great leathery wings tore free from her shoulders, a long, scaled tail unfurling behind her. Red scales bloomed across her skin as she assumed her true form - that of an enormous red dragon, radiant and terrifying.

The children screamed, shouted, and rushed to huddle around me, fear and awe tangled together. They knew what she was - they’d seen her once before - but none of them had witnessed the transformation.

“Be good, children,” Serah said gently.

She lowered her neck, and Ashlara climbed on. With a powerful leap, Serah hurled herself into the sky, wings beating thunder into the air. In seconds, they were high above us - and then they were gone.

* * *

Ashlara and Serah had been gone less than fifteen minutes when the shouting started.

I stepped outside at once, leaving Lilae and the other children inside the house. An older goblin came half-running, half-limping up the path, breath tearing in and out of him like it might give up entirely.

Skem.

I knew him from Reedwatch. His wife had passed the year before I left. Grams helped him whenever she could, and I’d always suspected he’d been sweet on her. He called my name as he stumbled closer, and I hurried to meet him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, slinging his arm over my shoulder and helping him the rest of the way.

“Fire,” he wheezed. “A dragon. It attacked the village.”

“What? Why?” The words barely made sense. Dragons never came this way. The only one’s I’d seen had been when Serah was taken. I tried to see past the trees, but winter or not, the pine needles were too thick, the forest too dense to give me answers.

He shook his head.

“Is my Grams okay?”

“I don’t know,” he said, voice cracking. “She told me to come find you.”

I got him inside and eased him into a chair at the dining table.

“What’s wrong, Vaer?” Lilae asked, her voice small but steady.

“I need to go, honey,” I told her. “I need you to stay here and take care of Skem, okay?”

She nodded.

“I have to check on Grams. As soon as your thren gets back, tell him to come find me.”

Another nod.

“Torvek,” I called. “I need you to watch everyone. Lock the door and don’t let anyone in. You hear me? Keep everyone safe.”

He nodded, solemn as stone, though worry flickered in his eyes.

I grabbed my healer’s bag and bolted for the door. Reedwatch was half a day away on foot, and every step felt like a heartbeat I couldn’t afford to lose.

* * *

I ran as fast as my short legs could carry me. For a heartbeat, I wished they were longer - like Ashlara’s. She could’ve made the trip in half the time. But I didn’t have that luxury. All I could do was run and hope Seth would come back soon, find me, and get me to Reedwatch in time to save Grams.

My heart hammered against my ribs as the forest tore past in a green blur. I didn’t know how long I’d been running - it felt like no time at all - but every glimpse of smoke curling high through the trees drove me onward, right to the edge of collapse. I couldn’t stop. Not when I was this close.

The smell of smoke hit me first. Not the clean bite of a campfire, but the stench of danger - burning grass and wood, resin and dung, hair and flesh. I burst through the treeline and skidded to a halt.

Reedwatch was in ruins.

Houses had collapsed in on themselves. Animal pens lay smashed and empty. The great hall was a blackened shell. People ran everywhere - forming bucket brigades, dragging water from the well, stamping out flames. Others knelt beside neighbors, binding wounds, clutching children, whispering comfort they didn’t fully believe.

I ran.

Smoke peeled back horror after horror as I sprinted toward Grams’ house. When I found her, she was sitting against the burned-out husk of it, calmly petting a goat. Blood and soot smeared her clothes and skin, and a strange spear rested across her lap.

“Grams!” I shouted, already pulling mana into my hands, already reaching for her.

“Mirri,” she gasped. “Don’t waste the mana. It won’t heal. I already tried.” She coughed, red flecking her lips. “You need to help the others.”

“Grams.” My voice broke. Tears blurred my vision.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped, then hacked up blood again. “I’m not dying today. The bastard who cut me did a lousy job.” She grinned, teeth stained red. “Must’ve been surprised I took out the dragon!”

“What?” I stared at her.

She jerked her chin, and the smoke parted as if on cue. Behind her house, half in the trees, lay the dragon’s body - green scales slick with blood, one wing shattered, its head twisted at an unnatural angle, as if it had fallen straight out of the sky.

She laughed, the sound strained and painful. “Guess the scaly bastard didn’t expect your great-granda’s thunder spear. Haven’t fired that thing in years. Still kicks like a mule.” Her gaze sharpened as she looked back at me. “Mirri. Go help the others. I’m not dying today. They need you.”

I wiped my eyes. She was right. She was hurt - badly - but not dying. At least, not yet. And the rest of the village needed me.

As I turned away, I caught Quinby stumbling through the smoke. He was ten, glassy-eyed, wandering like he’d forgotten where he was.

“Quinby.” I grabbed his shoulder. No response. I shook him harder. “Quinby, listen to me. My Grams is over there. Go stay with her. If anything goes wrong, you come find me as fast as you can. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

I turned him toward Grams and gave him a push. He staggered, then found his footing and went.

I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and headed deeper into Reedwatch to begin triaging the wounded.

* * *

Brand sat back and watched the children.

Things were unfolding according to plan - more or less.

His agents in Wolfsend had been **** to accelerate the timetable. He hadn’t anticipated Pyraeth’s spawn offering the orc a ride, but the deviation was insignificant. If anything, it was a gift. With her in the air, Seth’s chances of interference dropped sharply. The orc’s trial was already in motion, and Brand had no doubt it would proceed without a hitch.

Chamberlin remained a mystery. He still didn’t know who the man truly was - only that he mattered to the orc. Reports from Wolfsend suggested a traveling paladin, a quiet sort, with a house just outside the town. The house had burned. The man had vanished. That was enough. The cause was irrelevant; the reaction was what mattered. And judging by the orc’s response, it had been a strong one.

He allowed himself a thin smile.

He hoped the goblin wouldn’t notice the adjustments he’d made to the road to Reedwatch. With luck, her concern for the mortals there would drown out any sense of unease when she arrived in half an hour instead of half a day. Pyraeth’s dragon had performed adequately - maim rather than slaughter, ruin rather than annihilate. A shame the shaman had killed it. Brand had been looking forward to the second pass.

No matter. He had already secured a replacement. And the wound he’d given her would drive the goblin even harder.

What did puzzle him was how easily the goblins had accepted her. They remembered her. Not as a visitor. Not as an outsider. As one of their own. As a child.

Interesting.

Perhaps her divinity brushed against rebirth - an ideal that cycled through age, ****, and rejuvenation, folded into the collective Faith. Such a mechanism could be… useful, if properly controlled.

Then there was the smallest one. The supposed goblin child sitting before him now.

Her aspect was completely unknown. Even more opaque than Seth, which in itself was impressive. But that, too, would change. When pressed hard enough, gods always reached for the same thing. They drew deep. Fell back on first principles. On the raw shape of their Faith.

And in doing so, they revealed themselves.

Predictability followed. And predictability was a weakness.

In his borrowed skin - wearing Skem’s face - Brand would have a front-row seat when her Faith finally showed its hand.

* * *

I hear voices outside - ragged shouts, frantic calls for help. We all froze, staring at one another. Everyone was scared.

I moved for the door. Torvek stepped into my path.

“Mirri said not to open it,” he said, repeating the words with what little authority he had.

“But they might need help,” I told him.

“Or they might be here to kill us. We don’t know.” He stood firm - huge, nearly as big as thren and Ashie. He didn’t scare me. Not much. But he blocked the way all the same.

I told myself thren would be back soon. I told myself I had to do the right thing. Still, Torvek wasn’t wrong. We couldn’t know who waited on the other side.

“Open up! We need help!” someone shouted.

“Seth - help us!” another voice cried.

“They know thren,” I said desperately. “We have to help them!”

Torvek didn’t move. “That doesn’t mean we can trust them.”

Then a woman’s voice rose above the others, sharp with panic. “Please, Seth - help us! Mirri’s been hurt. She was attacked on the road.”

My heart lurched. If vaer was hurt - if she needed us - then waiting wasn’t an option.

I lunged past him. Torvek caught me easily, lifting me off the ground.

“Let me go!” I screamed, kicking at his shins and punching at his arms. “I need to help vaer!”

“We don’t know if she’s out there,” he said, weathering my blows. “It could be a trap.”

“What if it’s not?” I cried. “What if she needs us?”

“If Mirri was attacked, that means someone was waiting for her,” he shouted back. “We don’t know how many there are!”

Fists slammed against the door.

“Seth! Open up! We need you!”

The voices were ****.

I struggled harder, but he was so much stronger than me. But he didn’t even need to be. Desperation, fear, and determination clawed through me, and I reached for my mana without thinking - focused it on his arms, let it pour into him.

His grip slackened. Then he let go.

Torvek made a strangled sound - half fear, half confusion - as his arms went limp. I kicked free and he collapsed to the floor.

I ran for the door and flung it open.

The thing standing there was no man at all.

It was a corpse.

One eye had collapsed into a writhing nest of worms. Dirt caked his clothes, as though he’d duig his way out of a grave. His hair hung in greasy patches, and through the gaps I could see stained bone gleaming beneath torn flesh.

“There you are!” it cried, smiling with a toothy mouth that shouldn’t move. “Come with us! Seth needs your help!”

I screamed as it shoved the door wider and knocked me to the floor.

“Yes - Mirri was attacked!” crooned another voice as a second corpse **** its way inside. “Poor, poor Mirri.”

“Lilae, get back!” Torvek shouted from behind me. He couldn’t even stand.

I had done this.

I had weakened him. Opened the door. Let the monsters in.

And now everyone was in danger - because of me.