Page 249 of The Call of Crimson
Most of the bodies have been cleared, but blood still stains the stone and dirt, turning the streets into silent graveyards.
“How many did we lose?” I ask.
“It would be easier to tell you what we have left,” Lord Renfer says stiffly.
“Go on, then.”
“Thirty-three children and two hundred or so grown females remain. We have thirteen guards and soldiers, and ninety-six males.”
Three hundred and forty-two souls remain. This had been a city that once held over a thousand.
The loss is catastrophic, the bitter taste of failure filling my mouth.
Cillian lets out a low whistle. “They sure did a number on you,” he says as his eyes dart around the carnage.
“I have never seen such devastation,” Lord Renfer remarks.
Cillian laughs dryly. “You should see Rimor.”
We walk a few more minutes before the lord stops. “This is it.”
I can see where the bodies once lay, the blood still soaked into the earth below. My fingers brush the cold ground, my heart clenching for Breyla. I had once told her that I didn’t wish to see her hurt, that I wasn’t her enemy.
But when had I started hurting for her?
“What happened?” I ask quietly.
“I don’t know, no one here saw—” Lord Renfer begins, but a familiar voice interrupts.
A female passes by, cradling a squirming child in her arms.
“Breyla and your general, along with the other two, sacrificed themselves to save my family,” Nameah’s mother explains.
“It’s good to see you again…” I pause, realizing I never got her name.
“Calliah,” she offers. “They found us in the forest in the midst of the attack. Led us here, then held off the Fae while we took a different path to the stronghold.”
“How recklessly noble,” Cillian sighs.
“They’re the only reason my family is alive,” Calliah says reverently.
“Thank you, Calliah.”
“I only wish I could tell you what happened after that. We heard her scream just as we reached the walls, but I don’t know what happened after we split ways.”
“It’s okay,” I say, jaw tight. “I have a pretty good idea.”
“What’s next, Prin—” Cillian starts, then abruptly cuts off. “Lord Aurelius?” he asks in confusion.
I whip around to find Aurelius standing behind us, wearing the same clothes he passed out in. His hair is disheveled. His eyes were dark and rimmed in red.
How the hell did he get past the guards?
There’s no time to ask as someone shouts, “We’re under attack!”
Arrows fly, narrowly missing civilians in the street. There aren’t many people out, thank the gods.
I’m thrown inside the nearest building, Cillian’s body covering mine. We’re the same size, though, so it doesn’t do much good. Half of me is still exposed.
