Page 104 of Blood of the Stars

Appreciation flooded Gaeren, but he only gave the other man a quick nod. He took out his sword and tuned in to the memories around him. The sheer number of them made it impossible to follow any one trail, but they all held traces of fear, panic, and pain. There had to have been hundreds of people on this street in the last several hours for this mess of memories to remain. Had any of them been able to flee? Or had they all died?

Giving up on garnering valuable information from the memories, he entered the home before him. In its prime, it would have been for an affluent family, the cobblestone of the street spreading up the building’s side in an elaborate pattern that created an ocean landscape with colored glass adding depth and detail. Now, half the building was completely missing, like it had been cut in two with a knife.

Wind whistled through the wall, and rain splattered furniture newly exposed to the elements. No one remained. Three more blackened houses revealed the same abandoned atmosphere, the same eerie quiet. It wasn’t until they reached a fourth house that they found the first body.

“Stop.” Riveran pulled on Gaeren’s arm, preventing him from taking a step forward. Wind picked up what little ash hadn’t become black mush, stirring it into tiny tornadoes but also revealing bones.

Gaeren kneeled to wipe away wet ash clinging to bone. The body was hardly more than a skeleton with blackened additions that might have once been flesh. Gaeren scanned the sky again, taking a raindrop directly in his eye.

He flinched and wiped his eye before placing a hand on the skull, hating what he needed to do.

He closed his eyes anyway, reaching out and tuning in to the ghost-like memories around him. The faint pull of them all grew easier to distinguish. Most of them were too old to be complete, too distant to be detailed. But one grew finer-tuned as he connected to it through the bones he touched.

A man, terrified and running. Only Gaeren wasn’t just watching the man—he was reliving his memory. The lack of control made it his least favorite way to use his magic. It was like trying to wake or even move in a dream but having no command over his body. Normally, in order to tune in to someone’s memories, they had to first be recalled by the person they belonged to, but Gaeren’s progeny mentors had pushed him to take his abilities a step further for instances just like this. It drained him far too quickly and forced him to experience a memory with far too much perfection, like he was taking in an essence of who they were instead of just recalling their past.

Even now he felt the heat of the creature behind him, the sweat dripping down his neck as he ran. He prayed to the Sun for mercy and deliverance even though he knew it wouldn’t come. Others screamed in the streets around him, and the rumble of destruction chased him along with the burning air. Then the heat overwhelmed him until he screamed in agony. His screams continued even after Riveran wrenched his hand from the skull.

“You’re fine. We’re fine.” Riveran shook Gaeren, bringing him back to the present reality.

Gaeren glanced at the sky again, panting, but the rain clouds covered everything now, blocking out any sign of the Sun. It had been close to sleeping moments ago, but in the memory, the Sun had reached its zenith. Hours old. Surely the dragon was gone.

He stood shakily, tuning in to more memories around him, the heat of them rising from the cobblestone like steam in the rain. Hundreds surrounded him, even in areas they’d already explored. Now that he knew what to look for, he sensed the origins of them all: bodies that had been destroyed so thoroughly there weren’t enough remains to mark them as people.

“They’re all dead,” Gaeren whispered. “Everyone in the city.”

Riveran shook his head. “They must have evacuated. It’s not possible that?—”

“I see them.” Gaeren’s curt interruption silenced Riveran. “Their memories permeate the air. All of death.”

He strode forward, finding the source of one memory, grasping the skull and letting himself enter another. A woman huddled over her children, as if she could absorb the creature’s fire and somehow her babies would live. This time he was able to pull himself from it in the midst of her pain. Another revealed a couple sharing one last passionate embrace before their inevitable end. He tortured himself going from skeleton to skeleton, letting his energy drain as if reliving their memories somehow gave more value to their lives. He wanted to grieve them all, to experience it all for their sake.

The memory of a man hiding his child in a basement was cut short as Riveran slapped him across the face.

“No.” Riveran’s voice brought Gaeren’s focus back to the present, but his former friend wasn’t angry. His face was drawn tight with fear. “Your sister would get that look in her eyes when she let them overtake her. The visions of the future were too much. They would have killed her. Visions of the past will do the same to you.”

Gaeren clenched his jaw, his gaze on the X covering Riveran’s forehead. Riveran had still been with Enla when she’d first learned her magic. He’d seen her overdose on the addiction of prophetic visions. He’d been the one to ground her, to bring her back to the present. Until he betrayed her. It had taken Gaeren and her mentor weeks to get her centered once more. Riveran was right; he’d nearly lost himself to the memories thick with sorrow pervading every part of this graveyard.

Not that he would admit it to Riveran.

“I’m not like my sister.” He placed his hand on the skull once more. “And this memory was different.” He watched it again, paying closer attention. Watching the path the man took until his demise on the street where Gaeren stood. He shook himself free, then turned, tracing the man’s path in reverse. He picked up his pace, nearly running through the ash that now clung to his boots.

Riveran followed, and the slap of their boots echoed off the empty buildings in the abandoned street. When they reached the house the man had left, Gaeren paused. Since the memory, the house had been smashed in two. It was unlikely anything had survived. And yet Gaeren had seen the child placed in the cellar.

Instead of going through the door, he picked his way through the remains, trying to make sense of the layout, trying to map out where the cellar door had been.

“Here.” He pointed at a space where stone had fallen on wood floor. Wordlessly, Riveran helped Gaeren uncover the floor until they found the handle and the door had been cleared. Gaeren wrenched it open. Muted Sunlight revealed a well-stocked storehouse, its contents practically pristine compared to the destruction aboveground. His hope soared.

“We’re here to help,” he said into the darkness. “The dragon is gone.”

A sniffle sounded from the corner. “Da?”

Riveran stiffened beside Gaeren, then rushed down the steps. Murmurs met Gaeren’s ears, but they soon drew closer. When Riveran emerged from the cellar, a tear-streaked little boy gripped his hand. Riveran’s other arm held a sleeping infant, his protective grip so natural Gaeren had a sudden image of him at home with his wife, snuggling a baby before tucking it in its crib.

He wanted to hate the memory he’d inadvertently tuned in to, but there was a fierce love behind it that left him breathless.

The boy began shivering as the rain hit his skin. Riveran tucked the baby deeper under his cloak before making sure his X was hidden, so Gaeren reached forward, beckoning the boy toward him.

“Where’s Da?” the boy asked, still gripping Riveran’s hand.

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