The information we needed would take longer.
“Anywhere away from this cursed place. No one knows what happened, but when that magic swept through, it turned some of us into monsters, killed others, and leveled whole towns and villages. If that happens again…when it happens, that wave will kill us all. Now the whole realm’s trying to escape before the next one comes.”
I studied the bedraggled line of dazed-looking refugees, stretching as far east as I could see. The male looked at me appraisingly. “Word is, if we can pass through the northern gate into Varitus, we’ll be safe there.”
Gods help us all.
A mass exodus into Varitus…the Descendants wouldn’t know what hit them.
And once all these Fae stepped foot into Varitus and lost what little magic they did have…
Fuck.
“First thing’s first.” Zor gave the male another friendly smile. “Let’s get you unstuck.”
“Give the horses a tap with the reins and get them pulling. We’re going to shove.” I set my shoulder against the wagon while Zor did the same. The beasts strained and I hit the wood hard enough with my shoulder to splinter the boards, my muscles barking with pain, but the wheels popped free, the cart rolling heavily up onto dry ground.
“Thank you.” The male finally realized who he was facing—two battle-hardened warriors—and stepped back, wariness gleaming on his face. “We’re in your debt, sires.”
“We could use some food. Bread, dried meat, if you have any,” I asked softly, glancing to where Torin waited, as out of place in this bedraggled crowd as we were, dressed in layers of brightly colored silk, her white hair done up in a fancy braid, her white-blind eyes setting her apart from everyone else in this realm and every other.
The male followed my gaze and went still, his mouth gaping open. “Holy gods, that’s the…”
“Anything you can spare would be much appreciated.” Zorander pulled the male’s attention back to us, keeping his smile easy. “We’ve come a very long way and we are hungry.”
“What…what happened here?” the older male asked as he lifted the canvas cover on the wagon to root through a basket. “Is it true what we heard? The king is dead?”
“He is,” I said, ignoring Zor’s hissed warning. “They deserve the truth and they’re not going to find it anywhere else in this chaos.”
The male looked like he’d been a farmer, his wagon old but serviceable, his clothing worn but had once been expensive. “I’m Trajan. This is my brother Landon.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Carex is dead and his reign is over.” I looked Trajan in the eye while his brother inched closer to listen. “You do not have to leave Caladrius. What happened will not happen again for another ten thousand years. All this is…” I shook my head.
All this is…as if Anaria hadn’t unlocked the greatest, most powerful force in the entire world.
“That wave was the wild magic returning. You don’t have to leave now that the land has been restored. You can go home and grow your own crops again. The land is as fertile as when this world was created, and once you cross that ward into Varitus”—I nodded to the now-towering forest behind us—“you’ll face plenty of dangers. Descendants and Howlers. And once you pass over the ward, there is no magic. You cannot defend yourself.”
Trajan blanched then resumed searching the wagon, finally producing a loaf of bread, a handful of raw potatoes, and a roll of dried sausage. “You didn’t see what happened to the ones caught in the storm, sire. They became monsters. Blackened in limb and face, their bodies twisted into something that might have crawled from the Pit.”
I forced down my horror, and beside me, Zorander was doing the same. Anaria could never know her magic had hurt people. She carried around enough guilt. This was something we’d never allow her to learn.
“Thank you for the food, Trajan.” I smiled. “We appreciate the generosity.”
He squinted over his shoulder, back the way they’d come. “The wild magic, huh? They say it comes back every so often, I just…never thought I’d see this happen in my lifetime. Tell me you speak true and perhaps…” He and his brother shared a long look. “Perhaps we should head back home.”
“Nothing good waits in Varitus. With this many travelers on the road, food will be scarce, and desperate people, no matter how honorable, will resort to looting. You’d be safer to go home and stay isolated until things settle. Do you have enough food?”
“We only brought what we could carry.” He looked me up and down, and then, as if he’d made a decision, delved beneath the tarp and pulled out two bottles of wine. “Here. Thank you for the help and the information. Good luck to you both.”
“Same to you,” Zor said tightly, his keen eyes surveying the stragglers heading down the road, most of whom would never make the four-day trek to Varitus, given they carried no supplies, not even water. “Keep away from people, at least for the next few months. Stay away from the capital, too. There are Soul Reapers there.”
“We heard that rumor, too,” the male said, nodding to a huddled group passing by. “Some who escaped the city have been walking for days. But it was hard to know what was true and what wasn’t.”
“The Soul Reapers are real, but they won’t stray far from the Citadelle. Steer clear of Tempeste and you have no worries.” Zor leaned a hip into the wagon and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now. What can you tell me about those Fae who were caught inside the magic when it reappeared?”
“That sounds like what happened to Solok when Anaria used her magic on him.” Zor handed me the bottle of wine after he finished recounting the horrific story we’d been told. The stuff was strong enough to dull the edge of my near-lethal rage.
“Which would make sense, given it’s the same magic.” Torin was tucked into Simon’s arms, their backs against the trunk of an enormous oak. I stretched my aching legs out in front of me and leaned back as well, watching the constant traffic through the haze of dust.