Page 132 of An Archer's Reckoning

I grunted. “This field froze over in a day? All these bodies?”

“Yessir.” Aaron sobered again. “It was bitter cold last night. There’s few of us left, and the Kingdom folks burned so much . . .”

“It is all right, son. You need not relive it. I will get a report when we reach the guild.”

My heart broke for the young man.

We rode in silence before approaching the burned husk of the Army Compound. The barracks were unharmed, but the rest lay in ruin. Like the walls of the city, the wooden structures of the compound had been decimated, reduced to cinders like matchsticks stacked in a row, then set alight. It looked like the fist of some angry god had slammed down, crushing their bones into the earth, then set them aflame.

Several men in bedraggled Melucian uniforms shuffled about, clearing pathways, hauling buckets, or helping remove debris so repairs could be made to buildings, carts, or walls. My heart ached at the blankness in their eyes, the despondent resignation of men who’d faced death—and still faced it everywhere they turned.

We rode through the compound’s practice yard. Aaron stopped and stared, water flooding his eyes as he gazed at two large poles in the courtyard’s center. I figured they were mighty trees once, though they now looked like brittle logs, so burned they might snap apart with a powerful gust of wind.

“What is it, boy?” I asked.

“This . . . this is where . . .” He couldn’t stop the sob. “They burned the General and Guildmaster.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and muttered a prayer to the good Spirits for the men’s souls.

“There will be time for mourning later. We need to get to the guild.” I added a touch of steel to my voice to lend the boy some resolve as we trotted forward.

When we passed through the northern gate and stood before the once-proud arched entrance to the Mages’ Guild, it was Aaron offering his resolve.

Dozens of blue-robed figures lay in rows in front of the Guild Hall, or what remained of the once-majestic edifice. Like the army barracks, the Mages’ Academy and living quarters survived the attack, with only minor damage from the falling stones of the shattered tower.

The Guild Hall had not fared as well.

The mighty doors with their ornate, ruby-eyed Phoenix carvings still stood, but much of the rest of the structure was little more than piles of discarded stone. I had spent so much of my life in that hall, teaching, training, and laughing with other Mages. Seeing it destroyed speared my chest almost as painfully as the broken bodies had.

My eyes walked the rows of bodies, those ordered on the ground before the shell of a hall.

In those moments, my heart knew genuine grief.

Men I lived and laughed with lay beneath Melucia’s navy ensign. I forced myself to take each Mage in turn, paying my silent respects to their memory. These were not friends of years or even decades, but brothers and sisters loved throughout centuries of life.

Aaron caught me as I missed a step. I gripped the boy’s arm in silent thanks.

I dragged myself through the rows of frozen Mages and climbed the three steps to face the door of the living quarters. I hesitated, placing a palm against the stately wood. My heart hammered at the memories I knew would assault me when I gathered the strength to enter. I felt Aaron’s hand on myshoulder, sucked in a strained breath, then pulled the handle and peered inside.

Three Mages sat huddled in comfortable chairs around a squatty table. Each carried the somber expression of ones unused to facing darkness that now found themselves immersed in it.

Six bleary eyes crawled toward me as I entered.

They widened and brightened.

Their masters bolted upright. The Mage nearest the door took three strides and nearly bowled me down. Laughter and tears of joy replaced mourning as the reunion provided a welcome distraction from the day’s gruesome tasks.

“Atikus, it’ssogood to see you again. When you left on that fool’s errand, we were sure we’d lost you forever.” A tall Mage with wispy white hair that failed to cover his pate grinned broadly, finally stepping back from our hug.

“It was a near thing—many times, actually—but it is good to be home and see all of you well.”

One of the others sobered and said, “We are alive. I am not so sure how well we are at the moment.”

I nodded and stepped forward to place a hand on the man’s shoulder, then eyed each in turn as I spoke. “Velius would be proud of you for carrying on. We honor him—all of them—by continuing our work.”

Sadness returned to their eyes at the mention of their beloved Arch Mage and fallen brothers and sisters. I retrieved my hand. “I am sorry to press, but . . . I need to know what happened. I have information to share but need to know how we stand and who is in charge.”

“Atikus, there’s onlyfifteenof us left,” one Mage said.

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