Page 95 of Ash and Feather

The soldiers here wouldn’t have incinerated their own so hastily; their customs surrounding death wouldn’t have allowed it. But this seemed like precisely the way they would have disposed of any elvish enemy they’d killed.

The thought threatened to turn my stomach even more than the smell. I couldn’t bring myself to move closer to the bonfire, so I turned around and started to make my way back toward the place I’d left Dravyn.

I could feel him through the chaos, as usual—like an unusually warm breeze in the dead of winter, bolstering my own magic whenever I reached for it. It was usually a powerful yet subtle feeling.

But this time, the gentleness soon became searing, and the faint breeze turned to a howling wind that suggested a wild, unsettling amount of magic use.

Why was he using so much magic?

Who was he fighting?

I broke into a run.

But I didn’t find him.

Something else caught my eye first: A large crowd rushing down the street parallel to the one I currently raced along.

Curiosity carried me through a narrow alleyway and closer to this crowd. Before I realized what was happening, the groupwas growing larger, dozens of soldiers filing in from seemingly nowhere and sweeping me along with them. Galithian soldiers. They clearly had a destination in mind, and they were moving as a single unit toward it.

I stood out in this uniformed group; it wasn’t long before one of the regiment looked my way. His face scrunched in confusion. Then widened in alarm. He opened his mouth to question me, snatching for my arm as he did.

I side-stepped his reach, averted my eyes, and slowed my pace as inconspicuously as possible.

My would-be questioner was swept out of sight by the surging crowd.

Keeping my face tilted away, I ducked back into the alley I’d passed through and pressed against a building, covertly peering around the edge to see where the crowd would end up.

As I leaned against the cool brick, I thought I heard someone say my name.

It sounded faint, from somewhere far-off to my right. When I chanced a glance in that direction, I saw no one I recognized, nor anyone who seemed to recognizeme.

The last members of the marching group were mere dots in the distance. The street became eerily quiet. A shiver of warning crawled through my bones. I shrugged it off and focused on watching, determined not to lose track of that distant group. They seemed to be heading toward a large gray building on the far side of the main docks—a storehouse of some sort, maybe.

As I debated moving in for a closer look, I heard my name again.

I stepped out of the alley once more, drifting toward the sound in a confused sort of daze. I still kept my eyes trained in the direction of the storehouse, but my feet were carrying me towards whoever was calling for me—towards a narrow, rockyroad that ran along the sea, and docks that looked old and ill-used.

“Karys!”

This time the voice was loud enough to turn several heads, mine included. I forgot about the soldiers and the storehouse I was watching. I forgot abouteverything.My name had been so clear this time, and that voice…

I followed it, maneuvering my way around jostling bodies and broken things, finding a wall and scaling it before leaping to the rooftop of the house it surrounded. From this higher vantage point, I could finally see the person who had been calling my name.

It was her.

I hadn’t imagined it.

For over five years, I had been desperately wishing I could hear that voice again. And now it had happened. Just like that, my sister had seen me.

Recognized me.

Called out to me.

It felt like a dream. Or maybe the beginning of another one of my countless nightmares. Either way, it was not real. I would have to wake, soon, and face the fact that the sister I loved wasn’t truly here at all.

She called my name again—no,screamedit. She was desperate for me to hear it, for me to see her. To answer her.

Desperate for my help, I realized.

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