A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire (Blood and Ash 2)

“I heard one of them talk about how they wanted to make a cloak out of my fur,” Delano said from where he rode to our right. His brows were furrowed. “My fur should be reserved for something far more luxurious than a cloak. I bit him extra hard for that.”

My lips twitched as Casteel said, “From what I’ve learned about them, when the war broke out, they escaped to these woods. I don’t think anyone knows anymore whether they’ve always had a penchant for flesh—eating and wearing it.”

I didn’t want to think about their penchant for flesh. “They knew what you all were,” I pointed out.

“You’ve got to remember that they’re remnants of a time when Atlantia ruled over the entire kingdom,” Casteel said. “I imagine that each generation learned about us through stories told by their elders. With them outside the control of the Ascended, our histories weren’t rewritten or lost.”

“Okay, but they still tried to kill you.”

“Kill us,” Casteel corrected, and my stomach dipped. “This road has seen a lot of Atlantians and wolven throughout the centuries. I doubt their attack-first-and-ask-questions-later mentality fostered any fondness once they realized that we would not be felled by arrows or clubs.” He shifted as if he sought to get more comfortable. “Plus, wolven fur does make for very nice cloaks.”

Naill laughed as the wolven cursed.

“But they used to live in one of the towns near the Blood Forest. At some point over the past several hundred years, they ended up here,” Casteel continued. “I’ve traveled this road before and never had dealings with them until now.”

That explained why I saw the symbols there and then here. “How have they escaped the Ascended’s notice?”

“Who’s to say they have?” Naill countered.

“Well, they’re still alive,” I reasoned. “So, I would think they have.”

Kieran drew ahead. “Due to the Dead Bones Clan often attacking on sight and with what has to be their dwindling numbers, I think they probably aren’t worth the Ascended’s time.”

Looking behind us, I wondered exactly how many lived in the woods. Hundreds? Thousands? If there were thousands, the Ascended would definitely make it worth their time. Thousands could stage a revolt. Maybe not a successful one, but one that could cause many problems, especially since the clan was in possession of the kind of knowledge the Ascended wouldn’t want known.

“And the Ascended don’t often send people out here,” Delano added. “That may change once they realize you’re missing, but only the gods know the last time anyone sent by them came this far or went beyond.”

Something about his voice caused me to look at him. In the fading light, I could see the hard, unyielding lines of his face. “Why is that?”

“You’ll see,” Casteel answered.

And that was all he said—all anyone said as night descended, and the moon rose, casting silvery light over the hills the forest had given way to.

With my mind occupied with everything that had happened and what I’d learned before the first arrow had shot across the road, I didn’t think it was at all possible that I would find myself dozing. But that was exactly what happened as I felt myself easing into the space between Casteel’s arms. At some point, I ended up leaning back against him, and when I realized that, I jerked upright.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, muscles weary as I forced myself to sit straight. I saw that we were spaced out again, Delano and Naill several feet ahead with Kieran keeping pace beside us.

“For what?”

“You were shot.” I smothered a yawn. “At least three times.”

“I’m already healed. You’re fine.” When I didn’t move, he used his arm around my waist to tug me back.

The gods help me, but I didn’t resist.

“Relax,” he whispered atop of my head. “We should reach Spessa’s End soon.”

I stared up at the twinkling stars, wondering how there could be so many. I didn’t know why I asked what I did. “Does it bother you?”

“What, Princess?”

“Having to be so close to someone who represents the Ascended,” I asked. “After they took so much from you.”

A moment passed. “I would do anything for my brother.”

Yes, I truly realized that he would.

“And you’re part Atlantian,” he tacked on. “That helps.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but then Kieran spoke about the increasing clouds. The subject changed, I drifted and drifted…

We camped in the meadows we came upon, and in the morning, the first thing I realized was that we didn’t need our cloaks once the sun rose. I knew that meant we had to be getting close. The day was a blur of open fields and unending blue skies, and when the sun fell, we didn’t stop. We continued on.

Then the horses slowed. The first thing I saw was an endless pool of the deepest onyx. It was like the sky had kissed the ground.

“Stygian Bay,” I whispered,

“The rumored gateway to the Temples of Eternity, Rhain’s land,” Casteel answered.

“Are they true? The rumors?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes, Princess?” He tugged me back so I leaned into him once more. “You’re warm,” he offered in way of explanation.

“Thought Atlantians didn’t get cold.”

“Don’t point out my inconsistencies.”

Maybe it was because I was tired. Perhaps it was the stillness and the beauty of the Bay. I didn’t know what it was, but I laughed. “It’s not even that cold now.”

He made a sound, a soft rumble that I felt more than heard. “You don’t do that enough. You never have.”

I felt a twist in my chest, one I forced myself to breathe through. “Is the Bay the actual gateway to the real Temples of Rhain?” I asked instead.

His breath was warm against my cheek as he said, “Stygian Bay is where Rhain sleeps, deep below. It borders Pompay, and its southern coast reaches Spessa’s End.”

A jolt of surprise widened my eyes. The god really slept there?

“Are we in Spessa’s End?”

“No,” Kieran answered. “We’re about a day’s ride from there. We’ve reached Pompay.”

Pompay—the last Atlantian stronghold.

What I saw taking shape out of the darkness of night stole whatever I was about to say.

First, it was the Rise or what was left of the crumbling walls. Only sections by the entry stood, where no gate existed, stretching dizzying heights into the sky. The rest couldn’t be more than five feet, and most of that was the piles of broken stone.

We rode into a town that no longer existed. Burnt-out homes lined the road, most missing entire walls or were destroyed down to their foundations. No people were about, no candlelight from any windows of the homes that at least had four walls and a roof. Only the sound of the horses’ hooves clattering off the cobblestones could be heard as we traveled farther, past larger buildings with toppled pillars—structures I imagined once held meetings or offered entertainment. Trees were nothing more than skeletons, dead and decaying, and there was no sign of life anywhere. Whatever had happened here hadn’t occurred during the war. The land would have reclaimed the buildings and streets by now if that were the case.

“What happened here?” I winced at the sound of my voice. It felt wrong to speak, to shatter the silence of what appeared to be a graveyard of a town.

“The Ascended feared that with its roots as a once prosperous Atlantian city, Pompay would become a haven for Descenters. But they had little reason to believe that,” Casteel said, his voice hushed. “There were Descenters here, only because there had been no sitting Royal to rule the town after the war, but they were mostly mortals—farmers and the like. But no Ascended wanted to rule so far east, so they razed the town to the ground.”

“What of the people who lived here?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.

Casteel didn’t speak because the answer to my question appeared before me as we rounded a bend in the road. It went on for as far as the eye could see, stone mound upon stone mound, lit only by the silvery moonlight. There were hundreds of them, so many that I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing, even though I knew that what I saw was reality. Pompay was a slaughtered town, truly a graveyard.

“They came in the night some forty or so years ago,” Delano said. “An army of Ascended. They swarmed this town like a plague, feeding upon every man, woman, and child. Those who were not killed turned into Craven and spilled out from Pompay in search of blood.”

Gods.

“The ones who died were left behind to rot in the summer heat and to freeze in the winter,” Kieran said. “Their bodies remained where they’d fallen. A lone person by a tree, dozens in the street.” He cleared his throat. “Couples found in their beds. Entire families in their homes, mothers and fathers clutching their children to them.”

“We buried them,” Casteel told me. “It took some time, but we buried all that remained. Six hundred and fifty-six of them.”

Good gods.

I closed my eyes against the tide of sorrow and shock that flooded me, but I could not unsee the piles and piles of stones of so many senseless deaths.

Casteel’s exhale was rough. “So now you know why the Ascended don’t often travel this far.”

I did know.

I saw.

“I…I don’t know how I’m shocked,” I admitted. “After everything I’ve seen, I don’t understand how I can’t believe this.”

Casteel’s arm tightened around me, but it was Naill who spoke, echoing what the Prince had said earlier. “I don’t think this is something you can ever get used to. At least, I wouldn’t want to. I want to be shocked. I need to be,” the dark-skinned Atlantian told me. “If not, then the line that separates us from the vamprys would be much too thin.”