Page 67 of Blood Red Woes

We go to a part of the upper city near the prison, where Prim broke me out all that time ago. A set of steps leading up to the wall that surrounds the upper city, where the ramparts are. From there, you can overlook just about any part of Laconia.

Kretia, Ravenno, and Hazor are up there, staring at something in the distance. A pair of guards stand ten feet away. When Frederick and I arrive, all eyes turn to us, even the guards’, and I note the hatred boiling on Ravenno’s face first thing.

“You,” Ravenno hisses as he whirls and points at me. “This is all your fault. We were perfectly safe here in the city before you came!” Beside him, Hazor nods in agreement.

Kretia speaks with an authority neither councilman has, “Perhaps what transpired last night involves Rey, perhaps not. Regardless, we know it is connected to something else—or perhaps someone else.”

“I don’t understand,” I mutter, and Frederick guides me to the stone wall on the outer edge of the ramparts.

Lifting a hand, Frederick guides my eyes on the horizon. “There,” he says, “over Acadia. Do you see it?”

I squint. In the far distance—the far, far distance—a shadowstorm rages. “Yeah, I see it. What about it?” If it’s in Acadia, that means it’s not here, so what’s the big deal?

Kretia is the one who answers as she steps beside me, “A guardsman discovered it last night, just before the storm grew and claimed the lower half of the city. It did not touch the farms or the fields, so we were fortunate. However, until that storm is taken care of, we cannot be certain it won’t be back.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying the storm in Acadia is the same storm that was here last night? I’ve seen more than oneshadowstorm, and that’s never how they work. They don’t move. They come and then they disappear.” I look at Frederick and find he’s lost in thought. “What is this about? What are you…”

And then it hits me, why they’re all gathered here, why they’re bringing this to my attention.

I frown. “You want me to go back to Acadia.”

Kretia nods once before she says, “You brought us news that Empress Morimento is dead, that her son is trapped on her throne. Aolia wished to help the common folk of the city, so she is not here to ask, but she—” A pause as she glances at Ravenno and Hazor. “—we would like you to return to Acadia’s castle and see if perhaps her son yet lives, if he survived the shadowstorm or…”

“Or if he started it,” Ravenno snaps. “And if the young lord is the reason our city was decimated last night, kill him.” The man finds it easy to make demands of me even though he hates me. Figures.

“Didn’t you not believe me when I brought back that hilt?” I ask. The hilt that still rests in the bag that’s permanently attached to me. I slept with the dang strap of the bag around me out of habit last night, thanks to how exhausted I was. “What makes you think you can order me around like I’m some servant?”

Kretia moves to stand between me and Ravenno, blocking my sight of the man. “Forgive Ravenno. Forgive all of us, Rey. We are not ordering you to do anything. We are asking. We are pleading. We are praying.” She takes my hands in hers, her black skin a stark contrast to mine. “You are the only one who can provide us answers. You are our eyes and ears out there. You are our blade, our vengeance, our retribution. You have proved your power to us, and now we must ask you put it to use.”

I pull my hands out of hers and start pacing. Everything Frederick said to me last night rises in my head, the memory too recent, his words combining with what Kretia just said.

I don’t want to. Of course I don’t want to. But what I want to do—kick back and zone out while doomscrolling social media and listening to whatever stupid show Netflix put out lately—won’t be possible until I get back home, and if I have any hope of getting home, I need to pay a little visit to the Emperor again.

Kill two birds with one stone and all that. I can do what these people are asking of me, and I can hopefully get the Emperor off his throne, assuming he’s still alive and the scourge didn’t take him.

“All right,” I finally say as I stop pacing. “I’ll go. No promises though. I don’t know what I’ll find out there.”

“Make haste,” Kretia says.

Beside me, Frederick grins and says, “I knew we could count on you.” I have to roll my eyes at that, but I stop myself from any smart comments when he adds, “Come. Let’s get you prepared for your journey back into Acadia.”

If they want to load me up on stuff so I don’t have to eat out of the rivers, I’m all for it.

Frederick loads me up. Once I’m ready, he walks with me to the doors that let out into the marketplace. We stand before them, hiding in their shadow as the sun burns over our heads. In the daylight, his eyes take on a more amber color. His brown hair is dirty, greasy after a long night of helping people.

See? He’s better than I am. He doesn’t need me. If I was in his place, I can’t say I’d want to help anyone. I probably would’ve given up already, years ago.

“I’m sorry you have to go out there again,” Frederick whispers. “I know you don’t want to, so thank you. On behalf of Laconia, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I adjust the strap of my bag over my shoulder. The satchel is now heavy, loaded up with food, and my canteen now has fresh water. The hilt is still in there. I don’t know what to do with it. It isn’t like leaving it here would do any good, since no one else can pick it up. “Here’s hoping I don’t have to kill the Emperor.”

“He is no emperor,” Frederick reminds me. “Laconia does not have emperors. Only empresses. Simply being an empress’s son does not make him Laconian royalty. You are more royal to us than he will ever be.”

I blink. “Right. On that note, I’ll see you later. Bye.” Awkward as it is, I don’t care. I get the guards’ attention for the doors and they start to heave them open for me. I want to get this show on the road.

The doors open, and I take my first step toward them—but Frederick’s hand grabs me by the arm, the uninjured arm, and stops me. Even though I’ve already said my goodbye, I turn around and meet his stare.

“Be safe,” Frederick tells me, his head angled down toward me. He is slow to release his hold on my arm, as if he doesn’t want to let me go. “Come back to us, Rey.”

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