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  “That arrogance will get them killed,” said Zannah, tossing the rope over the wall. In their minds they were the reason the Forsaken had been driven back. Alyssa had seen them frozen in place with fear, teetering between fight and flight. It was Zannah who had rallied them.

  The Morrin went down first, watching the street for signs of trouble. Alyssa saw her gaze linger on one building longer than the others but she couldn’t see anyone hiding in the ruins.

  “Zannah? Is there something wrong?”

  “No. Let’s go.”

  Alyssa knew her friend was lying but didn’t press the subject as it only made her dig her heels in. She would talk about it or she wouldn’t. Perhaps it was Zannah’s stubborn streak that had rubbed off on her lately.

  Following her usual route, Alyssa led the way.

  When the city had been thriving, shops had put little stalls out every day, displaying a range of fresh crafts, paintings, seasonal fruit and freshly baked bread. The streets had been awash with noise and colour. With so many people creating music not all of them were sponsored by wealthy patrons. On every street corner a musician would stand with a bowl or hat, adding their latest tune to the hubbub.

  Now only silence rang in Alyssa’s ears. The crumbling ruins and empty shells of once-beautiful homes and shops loomed on either side. When she thought about what had been lost the ache in her heart was overwhelming. This pain didn’t come from whatever had infected the city. It was her own heartache and she accepted it because she understood the reason.

  Whatever happened with the Forsaken a part of her knew that Voechenka was lost. Perhaps it would be a kindness to tear down every building and let the area return to nature. In a hundred years or so, a forest or fields of grass would cover it and there would be nothing to show for all of the lives that had been lost. At least it would then be more than just a graveyard and a place of sorrow.

  “Keep up,” said Alyssa, turning off the main road and cutting down a narrow side street. She took the most direct route west through the city, passing through Debrussi square, and carried on, heading towards the bank. Zannah must have realised where she was heading but remained silent and watchful, one hand resting on her sword.

  When they reached the bank Alyssa was surprised to see no one on the roof watching the street. Picking up a handful of stones she started lobbing them at the roof, from where they clattered down noisily. When that failed to attract anyone’s attention she picked up a large rock and hammered on the battered front door. The metal rang loudly and she felt the vibrations up both arms but persisted until someone appeared.

  “Are you crazy, girl?” yelled the familiar voice of Graff from the roof. “We could have killed you.”

  Half a dozen mercenaries were watching her and Zannah with bows in hand. All were dishevelled and red-eyed. They were probably exhausted after a long night of waiting for the Forsaken to attack, only for them not to show up.

  “What do you want?” yelled Graff, grumpy at being woken up.

  “You know what’s coming. Do you think you’ll be able to hold out against the Forsaken?” Her direct approach caught them by surprise and sullen faces turned thoughtful. The time for banter and pretending everything would be well was over.

  “We’ve managed so far.”

  “That was before they started destroying one base every night. Do you think they left anyone behind? Do you think they killed anyone if they could help it?” The only way to get through to them was with cold hard facts. Alyssa had done her best to avoid the ugly truth in the past, but the city had forced her to change. It was the only way to survive. Now they had to change too or die.

  “Have you got a present for me today?” said Graff with a wry smile. It was something he used to say to her but today there was nothing suggestive in his voice. He looked wrung out and utterly exhausted. She knew they were all hanging on by their fingernails.

  “Sooner or later, they’ll come for you,” said Alyssa. They already knew that, but she felt it needed to be said. “Maybe you’ll keep them out on the first night, and if you’re really lucky, the second night. Eventually they’ll get in. If you stay here and try to fight them by yourselves, you’ll end up dead or worse.”

  Graff started to say something, maybe to make a joke or curse her, but in the end he said nothing. When one of the men beside him started to mutter, Graff gave him a look and he fell silent.

  “What are you suggesting? An alliance?”

  “No.” Alyssa knew she had to make her position very clear from the start. The mercenaries understood a chain of command but if she asked them to work with her, then sooner or later they would take advantage of her kindness and try to take over.

  Swearing an oath wasn’t the right approach, but Monella had been right about one thing. In this sort of situation people needed someone to follow. Someone to tell them what to do and where to go. It gave them the illusion that the person in charge knew what they were doing.

  Graff and the others were confused. “Then what’s the deal?”

  “You all work for me. I lead and you follow.”

  In spite of everything the mercenaries laughed, hooting and howling, their voices echoing down the street. The only one of them not laughing was Graff. He didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Blessed Mother, we needed that,” said one of the other mercenaries, wiping a tear from his eye corner.

  “Tonight, when the screaming starts and you hear people begging for death, think about my offer.” Alyssa’s voice cut through their good humour like a razor. “If they come for you instead of someone else, see if you feel like laughing then.”

  With that she turned and walked away, never once looking back. She desperately wanted to but kept facing forward, working hard to keep her breathing level and her emotions in check. Zannah walked beside her, a solid and reliable presence from whom she drew strength. If Zannah noticed her wiping away tears, she didn’t say anything.

  By the time they reached the west gate Alyssa was starting to feel more like herself, which made her laugh.

  “What’s funny?” asked Zannah.

  “I was just thinking about who I am now and who I used to be.”

  They followed the path beyond the gate, walking on what had once been a muddy track. It had frozen in the last few days and Alyssa heard it cracking under Zannah’s unrelenting boots. After a few minutes she began to notice subtle changes in her friend and was pleased to see she was starting to relax. Zannah probably didn’t even realise she was doing it.

  At the top of a gentle hill they reached the edge of the old wood. Apart from patches of frost it looked much the same as the last time she’d visited. A couple of trees had been chopped down as she’d instructed, but the area was still beautiful. Above their heads a few little birds flitted among the branches, looking for food. The trees swayed gently in a mild breeze, creaking and groaning as if speaking in a language of their own.

  Zannah was transfixed. She stared up at the birds with a child-like look of wonder. The area was so peaceful Alyssa felt some of the tension ease from her mind. It would be waiting for her when she went back, but for just a little while she wanted to pretend that it didn’t exist.

  “You did well with the mercenaries,” said Zannah, following her through the wood towards the stream.

  “Do you think they’ll listen?”

  “I don’t know, but if they don’t it’s not your fault. You’ve already taken on too much.”

  “I was about to say the same thing to you,” said Alyssa, smiling at her friend. Zannah said nothing, but in her silence Alyssa heard many questions. The Morrin was good at burying her emotions and keeping her mouth shut, even when she burned to ask a question. She would rather say nothing and wait to see if the answers came out by themselves. She never asked for anything for herself, as if that were a shameful thing.

  “Tell me about your life, before the war,” said Alyssa.

  “There’s little to tell.”

  “That’s not
true. Who were you? What did you do?”

  “I was a soldier, like now. Only back then I followed orders.” Zannah said it matter-of-factly, as if what she had done by disobeying those orders was nothing. As if it hadn’t cost her everything. Her people. Her country. Her family.

  “I’m not who I used to be,” said Alyssa. “Although there are moments when I remember.”

  “I’ve not guessed in a while,” admitted Zannah. They’d had little time for their game lately. “I’m not certain I will ever get it right.”

  “I’ll tell you one day,” said Alyssa, gesturing towards the stream. The water had slowed with the cold and there were drifting patches of thin ice, but it hadn’t frozen solid. Alyssa sat down beside the stream, observing how the weak sunlight created a kaleidoscope of colours as it passed through the ice. When she realised they weren’t going to walk any further Zannah sat down but she looked uncomfortable. It was a long time since she’d nothing to do or anyone to protect. The only thing to do here was talk and she usually avoided that if possible.

  “You never asked me about the lake,” said Alyssa.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “You saw something terrifying. You survived and returned safe. That’s all that matters.”

  “No, it’s not,” said Alyssa, shaking her head. What she’d seen mattered, although she tried to avoid thinking about it as much as possible. What was more important was what the experience had done to her.

  “Do you know why I went to the lake?” The best way to find out what Zannah was thinking was to ask her direct questions.

  Zannah picked up a loose stone and flicked it across the water. It hit a small patch of ice, cracking it, and immediately sank into the water. The hard exterior was thinner and more fragile than it looked.

  “Because you were running away from what needed to be done. From what people wanted you to be.”

  “That’s part of it,” admitted Alyssa. “They needed someone to be strong for them. To show them the way. I thought they wanted my advice, but really they wanted the illusion of order. I have no power, no authority, but asking permission gave them comfort and I was shying away from that. I was selfish and I nearly died before I realised that.”

  Zannah looked at her askance. “You do more than that for them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The Morrin was quiet for a while and Alyssa could see she was trying to find the right words. This was probably the most she’d spoken in weeks. They used to talk a lot more when it was just the two of them guarding the wall late into the night.

  “For your people, hope used to be a good thing, like their faith. It brought them comfort and a promise that tomorrow would be better. They went through the war and the camps, and then they were left alone in a dying city. This place strips away all the fat and gristle, leaving behind only skin and bone. It eats away your dreams, your future and finally your hope. Many of your people were just waiting to die.”

  “And now?”

  Zannah’s laugh was both unexpected and slightly terrifying. In all their time together Alyssa had never heard her laugh in such a way. “Do you really not know? Do you not see?”

  Alyssa shook her head. “Know what?”

  “You give them hope for the future.”

  “It’s not just me,” said Alyssa, gripping one of Zannah’s hands with both of hers. “We light torches every night, but you’re the one who drives back the darkness. You’ve saved countless lives and you helped them find their courage.”

  “They hate me.”

  “They need you and would be dead without you.”

  “I bring death. That’s my only gift.”

  “Now who’s being blind?” Zannah tried to pull her hand away but Alyssa held on more tightly. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “Name it.” Zannah didn’t hesitate, not even for a second, which only made Alyssa love her more.

  “I need you to stop taking risks.” Zannah tried to move away but Alyssa persisted and squeezed her hand. “I won’t let you go. Not without a fight.”

  Alyssa knew that Zannah thought her fate was to die fighting to protect people who hated her. Everything she’d done since the war was part of her penance, but in her mind redemption was for other people.

  “My people will never forgive the Morrin for what they did during the war. I don’t think they know how,” said Alyssa. “But I forgive you. I forgive you, Zannah.”

  At first she didn’t think the Morrin had heard her, as she didn’t react. After a long silence she withdrew her hand and this time Alyssa let go.

  Then Zannah started to shake, hugging herself with both arms, and began to cry. Loud wracking sobs erupted from her throat, making her whole body tremble.

  Alyssa held Zannah to her chest, as tears ran down both their faces, and she waited for the storm to pass.

  CHAPTER 34

  For the last two days Tammy had been methodically searching the Dureen district of the city for signs of the Forsaken. She had used logic and common sense in an attempt to find some clues as to where they hid during the day. Given their numbers there had to be some physical signs of their passage, but so far her efforts had produced nothing. She’d previously started with the largest buildings as the most obvious hiding places. Once those had been cleared she moved to a systematic sweep, street by street, and still there was nothing. Not one body or drop of blood. Nothing.

  Now, with seven nervous mercenaries walking behind her, Tammy was leading them through the area, relying only on her instincts.

  Right now they were screaming at her to turn around and run in the opposite direction. There was something else. Judging from how closely they were watching the streets she knew the mercenaries could feel it too. A tingle along the spine as if they were being watched. But there were no faces observing them from empty windows. No scuttling sounds or the patter of footsteps on stone. Not even a flicker of movement half-seen from eye corners, because there was nothing to see or hear.

  The city echoed with a silence as deep and profound as the grave. Maybe that’s what the chill was. The absence of life and the flutter of restless spirits on the edges of her perception. Maybe hordes of the dead watched them even now. The streets could be choked with people, but they were the only ones who were still alive.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” asked Kovac.

  Tammy didn’t realise she’d stopped at a crossroads until he spoke. The others were looking at her expectantly while keeping one eye on the surrounding buildings. Instead of answering she picked a direction at random and set off.

  She’d been delaying the inevitable. Hoping that somehow she’d find the Forsaken by chance, despite their previous lack of success. Probing her reasoning more deeply Tammy realised she was afraid of what might happen.

  “Kovac.” She gestured for him to follow her into the nearest building. The others spread out and took up positions without being asked, watching all directions. As she stepped into the front room Tammy saw it had once been a clothing shop. Racks of shirts, dresses and brightly coloured scarves were crowded on racks and shelves. None of them were covered in cobwebs and not one had been chewed through by moths. If not for the fine layer of dust it might seem as if the owner had just stepped out the back door.

  “They’re hiding in here?” asked Kovac, raising an eyebrow at the small building.

  “I’m going to try something to find the Forsaken. It might be dangerous,” said Tammy.

  “How dangerous?”

  “Do you remember what happened during the fight with Grennig?” she asked and Kovac nodded. “I lost control. I can blame whatever has infested this city for some of it, but part of that darkness came from inside me. There are things in my past I’ve tried to forget and make up for. This place dredges it all to the surface.”

  “We all have regrets.” Kovac looked into the distance and she saw something familiar touch his weathered features. Sorrow and remorse. Tammy couldn’t
help asking about it. The Guardian in her just wanted to know.

  “What did you do?”

  Kovac’s laugh was bitter. “Trusted the wrong man, and here I am, living as a king, drowning in riches.” He gestured at their barren surroundings and then dropped his hands.

  The more time she spent with him the more she realised he wasn’t a typical mercenary. Now wasn’t the time to ask for more details but she knew he was carrying a heavy burden of guilt. There was a lot more to him than his rugged appearance.

  “Balfruss had an idea about how to find the Forsaken.” Kovac looked uncomfortable when she mentioned the Sorcerer’s name. She’d seen how all of the mercenaries glanced at him when he wasn’t looking. Mercenaries weren’t known for being polite and good-mannered, but not one of them had said so much as a harsh word to anyone in the camp since their arrival. Tammy wondered how much of it was due to the Sorcerer’s presence rather than Alyssa’s promise of repercussions.

  “You can do magic?” said Kovac.

  “No, it’s difficult to explain. I need you to do something for me.”

  “What is it?”

  “If I start to lose control, I want you to stop me before I hurt anyone.” Tammy knew she was being vague, but explaining it would just cause another delay and her nerve was already wavering. Kovac might try to talk her out of it and then she would have an excuse not to try.

  To her surprise Kovac didn’t ask for more details.

  “I’ll try,” was all he said.

  “Promise me.”

  “I can’t,” said Kovac. “You’re damn strong and I’ve seen you fight with that,” he said, gesturing at her sword. “I’d be lying if I said I could beat you by myself.”

  “Then just try your best,” she said. “Give me a minute and I’ll be out.”

  Closing her eyes Tammy focused on her breathing and tried to empty her mind. Years of training in the Watch and then the Guardians had taught her how to control her emotions, but since coming to Voechenka it had proven difficult. Now, instead of holding them at bay, she began to let all of her strongest emotions come to the surface.