Page 83 of Path of the Dark
28
Paths Diverge
RYANA SPIED VELDORAS from afar. From this distance, it appeared little more than a hump on the western horizon, but as they drew nearer, she made out the spires of The Swallow Keep perched high above a city of peaked slate roofs. A high granite wall encircled it all.
Wrinkling her nose, Ryana shifted her gaze to one of the stagnant pools beside the road, from where a rotten smell drifted up. “Shadows,” she muttered to herself. “Who builds a city on a swamp?”
“Reclaimedswamp,” Elias corrected, overhearing her. “Closer to the city, they’ve managed to turn the marshes arable.”
Ryana pulled a face but didn’t reply. However, sure enough, a few furlongs out from The City of Tides, a patchwork of fields appeared. Locals had raised up the land using earth and planks of wood. Small wooden, thatch-roofed huts lined the fields, and a riot of summer vegetables basked in the humid afternoon light. But there was no one tending them. No smoke rose from the roofs of the huts.
Frowning, Ryana glanced over at Elias. “Where are all the farmers?”
Elias’s own brow furrowed as he surveyed the empty plots and deserted houses. “I don’t know,” he replied. “These fields were busy when I left here.”
Up ahead, loomed massive studded iron gates. They were new: the iron gleamed, and there wasn’t a trace of rust on them. A row of unwelcoming spikes faced out around five feet above the ground. Up on the walls, Ryana spied the outlines of men moving around, silhouetted against an overcast sky.
“Why are the gates closed?” she asked as they approached.
“I told you, my father has the city locked down,” Elias replied. Yet when she looked his way, she saw he was scowling.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Something just doesn’t feel right.”
They reached the guard house and stopped before a line of helmeted Anthor soldiers, clad in gleaming obsidian armor and scarlet cloaks.
Leaving Ryana waiting with their escort, Elias urged his stallion forward to meet them.
One of the guards stepped forward. “Good afternoon, Your Highness.”
Elias nodded a greeting. “My father is still in residence, I take it?”
“Aye, Your Highness.” The guard’s expression was hidden under his helm, although his voice was wary.
“Something is amiss here,” Elias replied. “Why are the fields all empty?”
A beat of silence followed, before the guard answered. “We’re preparing for the siege, Your Highness.”
Ryana tensed.The siege?
Elias inclined his head. “There’s an army approaching?”
“Aye. The Rithmar force is no more than a day behind you.” The guard paused here. “You didn’t know?”
Ryana saw Elias’s broad shoulders tense. “Let us through,” he ordered. “I need to see my father urgently.”
The guard nodded, and the line of soldiers gave way. Moments later the creak and clank of heavy iron rent the damp marsh air. They were opening the gates.
Urging her own horse forward, Ryana drew up alongside Elias as he rode into the city. Nerves fluttered up under her ribcage. Finally, after days of travel, they were here.
Somewhere in this huge city was Gael.
The fluttering sensation morphed, and suddenly Ryana felt as if a great hand was squeezing her chest. He was the last person she wanted to see, and yet she knew she had to face him.
They entered a vast cobbled square, ringed in stone houses. On the eastern edge of Veldoras’s Great Square rose the city’s Altar of Umbra. Ryana imagined that this space was usually filled with market stalls, but this afternoon it was deserted. When she looked up on the walls, she saw they were crawling with men.
A sense of foreboding rose within Ryana, causing her breathing to quicken. For a moment she forgot Gael, her thoughts going to the friends she’d left behind. Asher, Mira, Dain, Lilia, and Ninia—they were just a day behind her.
