Page 97 of Enchantment of Silver and Sea
Not the faces of the Strangers who fought. They had had half a day of trudging through the wilderness, injuries slowing us down, to process the outcome of the battle. Half a day of weary bodies dragging through the underbrush, just as much as they dragged the wounded on makeshift gurneys behind them.
What will be burned into my memory is the moment when what was left of the Strangers’ army crossed into camp, bleeding and broken, and nearly a hundred waiting faces all fell at once.
Today was supposed to change things for the Strangers. But their circumstances had changed only in that there were fewer friends and fewer loved ones to ease the burden, both literal and figurative, of their daily lives.
It was a world-shattering loss.
As we hauled the injured through the street, Nya and I stayed close to Kieran. And we remained close as Cecil helped us carry him into one of the houses near the bonfire, into Kieran’s room.
When Cecil left, neither of us moved to leave with him.
Let’s call it what it was—we were guarding Kieran. And we both knew it.
“Do we need to worry about his roommates?” I asked as I took in the space. I don’t know what I had expected of Kieran’s bedroom, but it was much the same as Nya’s—crumbling walls, carpet so stiff that it no longer felt like carpet, the pervasive reek of mold and mildew. What made his room different, though, was the number of people sharing it. Rather than a mattress, the room was strewn with sleeping bags. Six total, including Kieran’s.
“I don’t know,” Nya replied. Hearing her so uncharacteristically uncertain was all the answer I needed.
We sat against what remained of the wall on either side of Kieran’s sleeping bag. As the room darkened with the setting sun, I tried to think of something to say. It felt like there was so much that needed to be said, while simultaneously, here was nothing worth saying after all that we had just endured.
At some point, footsteps sounded in the hallway, and we braced for one of Kieran’s roommates to enter.
But it was just Wren. She was sniffling as she embraced Nya, her long lashes wet with tears. When she pulled Nya into a passionate kiss, I had to stifle a smile. Nya might have been avoiding calling what they had a relationship, but it was clear to me now that that was just semantics. There was no mistaking the way they felt about each other.
Not long after, footsteps sounded in the hallway again. Then Cecil’s hulking form appeared in the doorway.
“Maila,” he said. “Someone wants to talk to you.”
I furrowed my brow. “Who?”
“You haven’t met her yet,” he said. “Her name is Sigrid.”
I was finally going to meet Sigrid. The Strangers’ enchantress.
As Cecil and I made our way down a side road, perpendicular to the cul-de-sac at the center of camp, I considered the limited information that Nya and Kieran had shared about her. She helped the Strangers with basic spells, potions, and brews. And she had refused to meet me during my first visit to the camp.
Now, I had only been back at the camp for a few hours, and there was apparently a sense of urgency to talk to me. I didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Did she say what she wanted to talk to me about?” I questioned.
“She did. But I think it would be better for you to hear it from her.” Cecil flashed a reassuring smile.
I glanced around us. I hadn’t spent any time on this street. I had only seen it from a distance during my first visit. But it was the same as every other street in the skeleton of the neighborhood. Every decaying house was slightly different from the next, yet also just the same.
Even though we were walking in the opposite direction from the fire, the musky smell of burning brush still hung in the air. I breathed it in and felt a pang in my chest, remembering the last time I breathed in the scent of the bonfire with Cecil beside me.
“You knew that Irene could wield magic.”
Cecil’s sigh sounded pained. “I did.”
“And that I have the same ability.”
“Yes.”
He seemed to be expecting me to say something else. When I didn’t, he continued, “I couldn’t share that with you when we talked that day. It was too much, too fast.” He paused in front of a house with gray siding. Or at least, it was gray now. It was unclear what color it had once been. “I think you’ll find that Sigrid will be able to answer a lot of the questions that you have.”
He led me through the door without knocking.
The first thing that hit me was the smell. Or rather, many smells at once. The mingling of fresh herbs, something medicinal, and something strongly floral. Together, the mixture burned my nostrils.
