Page 46 of Where Darkness Falls

I’m drawn to it. There’s a lightness radiating from within—like hope for a brighter tomorrow; a promise that the shadows of today won’t be our reality forever. I allow myself to linger for just a moment before continuing on, even though I feel the need to return.

“What in all Celestae?” Riordan asks, entering the village square.

Thirteen suits of armor lay in a crescent formation along the cobblestone.

“Try to locate the captain,” I say, dismounting my horse, Danté.

Laisren, Riordan, and Virgil dismount as well, walking through the square to carry out my orders. I walk up to the nearest suit, nudging it slightly—only to find it hollow. I go to another, and the same empty sound reverberates. No remains of a body are found within the suits of armor. This doesn’t make any sense. It appears as if their bodies were sucked out while standing in formation.

I’ve seen many things as High General over the years, but I’ve never seen anything of this nature. There’s no way a common woman could’ve done this without some level of training. I continue to the others and each one is the same—empty armor without a body.

A set of heavy steps approaches me from my flank, stopping only a few feet away.

“Did you find him?” I ask, quietly.

“Yes, High General,” Virgil’s deep voice replies.

I stand then, adjusting my helmet. “Very good. Bring him to me,” I say.

“Unfortunately, I cannot, General. This is something you’ll want to see for yourself,” he replies.

There’s uncertainty in my friend’s one good eye. He looks apprehensive, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. My body goes rigid, alert in case there’s danger. I trust my cadre and their reaction to any situation. So, Virgil’s hesitancy sets me on edge.

“Lead the way,” I command.

Virgil guides me through the maze of bodies until we’re at the far side of the square where Laisren and Riordan are standing. Their bodiesare blocking something from view. As I step around them, I see why. There’s another suit of armor with markings along the shoulder to indicate rank. Unlike the other suits, this one still contains a body: the captain.

He’s been dead a little over a week from the looks of it. Rust-colored flecks dust along the torso and legs. The upper body caves in places, like he was stepped on. As my eyes move up, I see the deep lacerations to the neck and face. They appear to be in a zigzag formation.Claw marks, perhaps?Well, except for the neck, which is ripped out, leaving a gaping hole—most likely the killing blow.

Strange.

I look at my men, seeing their confusion mirror my own.

“Laisy, I need you to appoint a well-trained soldier to take the captain’s place. I’m sure one of the brutes we brought will be more than sufficient for the job. Catch up with us once the task is completed,” I say.

“As you wish, High General.”

“You two come with me. We need to find her,” I say, turning toward the nearest establishment. From the heady stench of ale wafting from the building, I assume this must be the village’s tavern. “Let’s see if anyone’s willing to talk.”

“Yes, High General,” they reply in unison.

The tavern’s interior is made of oak, stained a dark color to make the atmosphere appear inviting. A roaring fire comes from the hearth that stands in the center of the space, and chandeliers made from the bones of wild animals cascade dim light across the establishment. Two patrons are seated at one of the long, empty tables, but upon seeing us, they swiftly exit.

Taking off our helmets, we make our way to the till, where the barkeep is wiping down the insides of tankards. It isn’t until we stop directly in front of the small man that he looks up. His features pale as he drops the mug. His eyes sweep between the three of us.

“Hi-Hi-High General,” he stutters, bowing at the waist. “Th-This must be th-the C-Cadre with you.”

“Only my third and fourth commanders,” I reply, nonchalantly. “The second is currently taking care of business elsewhere,”

I slap three gold coins down in front of the nervous man.

“I need information,” I say, “and you’re going towillinglytell me.”

The barkeep flinches, but quickly nods his head as he reaches for the coins. I pull it just beyond his eager fingertips and tsk. “Answer my questions, and this is yours.”

He fidgets, wiping his hands along his trousers. “O-Oh, of course,” he says.

“What happened to the soldiers stationed here?” I ask.

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