Page 55 of Marked By the Enemy
But I barely heard her. My knees had locked. My hands were shaking. My gaze stayed fixed on the ground where the twins had turned to ash. My sinuses itched, and a sob caught in my throat, but I swallowed it. I didn’t cry. Not here. Not yet.
From the side, Willow’s mother pulled her daughter close. “We’re going. That’s it. We never should have come.”
But Willow shook her head. “I’m staying. The bond spoke through me. That means I got to learn what it wants.”
Her mother’s face crumpled. “You’re ten.”
“I don’t care. I’m still staying.”
In the shadows by the well, the little girl with cropped brown hair clung to the stone edge. Her face was blotchy, eyes swollen. Her small fingers dug into the mortar.
“Me dad’s gone. Ain’t nothing to carry home now, just the words. I’ve got to tell my brothers and Mommy. I got to tell them he went like a candle.”
I crouched beside her, but Nancy wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“He shouldn’t have come,” Nancy whispered. “But he did. He dreamed it, too. We all dreamed. I got two marks. Dad only had one. I reckon that’s why it took him. He wasn’t ready.”
“I’m taking Nancy home,” a woman said. “I’m her next-door neighbour. Need to tell her mother and brothers that the man of the house is gone and ain’t coming back. I have me own kids to look after, too. Should never have come.” She put an arm around the little girl, and they left last.
By night’s end, ten more had gone. Some wept as they left. Some didn’t look back. Only twenty remained.
The elder called Ruen with dreadlocks and a twisted spine leaned on his walking stick, black eyes sparkling and sharp. “We’re too old to run. If this is war, let it be war.”
Astrid—otherwise known by her people as the wandbearer—sat beside Willow and offered her a hunk of dried bread. “If the girl can learn the bond, so can we. She showed us more than most ever do. We need wardstones, too, so that Bone Seat and his army of the unconscious won’t return.”
The air settled, heavy with smoke and grief. I watched the last of the leavers vanish into the dark beyond the Keep.
It was difficult to sleep, but sometime before dawn, my eyes must have closed because I was woken by a hand on my shoulder and the sharp whisper of Branwen’s voice.
“They’re still here.”
Mist crawled along the earth. Thirty had laid down in that circle. Only twelve remained, including Darian and me. I pushed upright. My throat was dry. My back ached from the stone beneath my bedroll.
Branwen gestured toward the battlements, where the two elder men, Ruen and Jack, stood like carved warnings. “One of the boys saw them. The remnants. They’re camped near the eastern wood, beyond the old ridge.”
My chest went tight. “No fire?”
“None.”
Darian was already standing, blade sheathed at his hip, speaking in low tones to Astrid. His hair was damp with sweat, though the air was cool.
I moved to him. “He’s still there.”
“He wants to scare us.”
“He succeeded.” I turned to face what little could be seen beyond the courtyard.
Somewhere beyond that mist, the Bone Seat waited and watched. I wondered who the ghosts had been. We remained in the largest fighting ring. Some awoke, some stayed asleep. Some with hands still stained from trying to gather the ash of their dead.
The woman with raven black hair, cut short under the ear, was still with us and sobbing. She was the mother of the little boy who had turned to ash. Her voice cut sharper than a blade. “You told us this was safe.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. I had already had an earful from her the previous night.
“You knew we didn’t understand,” the woman snapped. “You said we could stand with you. But my boy is gone. I held him in my arms only last night, before that evil… I don’t know what he is… with purple eyes came. You let him walk away.”
“They weren’t soldiers,” Darian said, stepping in. “They were weapons already wound. They used bond magic, which was manipulated and forced to do that. We didn’t know it was possible.”
“And what are we? What are we to become?”
