I open my mouth, then snap it shut.
No. Lorcan never taught me that. His job was to be in the center of the action, no matter how dangerous. Besides, I’ve never been the center of his world the way Zosia was. If it came down to a choice between saving my life and hers, he’d have chosen Zosia every time.
He taught me to fight so I could save myself.
Why didn’t I see it at that time?
I can’t meet Tovian’s eyes.
Gently, he says, “You missed all the action, Sunshine. We’re rounding up the stragglers now.”
“I know,” I mumble. “Come on. Let’s assess the damage.”
The camp is a total loss. We regroup a short distance into The Boscage, with guards watching for dragons. The fire and noise should keep them away, but you never knew for sure. Someone ought to put a tracking device on Big Ada.
Eater. Whatever.
There were wounds to tend and bones to set. I had no time to dwell on the past. I must stay in the complicated present, with no set path into our uncertain future.
All I can do is cling desperately to hope—to Tovian—and keep fighting.
PART TWO: FALL
September
Chapter 14
“Can you believe this?” I tug the wet rag up over my face. Smoke stings my eyes. We were still several kilometers away from the raging fires, but close enough to scare the horses. “We’ll never put the fires out.”
After the encampment attack, Tovian and his people rounded up their dead and took them home. I gave him a satellite phone and a charging stick. He didn’t quite understand how it was supposed to work, and we’d only managed to connect twice in the weeks since.
The Oceanside contingent split into three groups. Civilian survivors were sent to infiltrate the port city and wait for further orders. An insurgent contingent used the cliffside caves to harass and attack the pirates, stealing shipments wherever they could. A third group comprised of fighters and refugees willing to help organize survivors moved north with me into the Grasslands District.
Our mission was twofold: to help any survivors who needed it, and somehow stitch together a group of traumatized Auralians willing to fight the fires.
There are far more survivors than we have supplies to aid. I hate that I’m disappointing people who’ve lost everything.
Worse, I’m not sure what to do about the group of orphans we’ve collected. Some, we’ve been able to leave with people from their destroyed villages. Others ride with us in wagons as we search for any family willing to take them in.
Orisa lowers her binoculars.
“We can dig trenches, along there.” She points. “We can create a fire break and wait for the flames to die down. One good rain will douse the fires enough for us to move in and remove any remaining fuel.”
One good rain would have done us a world of good. This has been the driest summer anyone can remember. It’s like nature itself is trying to help the invaders win.
“We have fuck-all luck,” I mutter, in English. Orisa casts me a quizzical glance. Not many people spoke English or French before the invasion, and now everyone associates both languages with the pirates. I don’t bother to translate my thoughts for her. “All right. Let’s get out the plows and shovels.”
An hour later I’m interviewing a soot-streaked woman holding a wailing infant, with two small children clinging to her skirt and another child around ten years old hovering sullenly behind her. An air of exhaustion clings to them.
“Where is your husband?” I ask, briskly writing down the details.
“Gone to Oceanside to fight.” She hoists the baby higher on her hip. “Haven’t heard from him since. What supplies the pirates didn’t take when they attacked the first time went up in flames when the fire swept through. We have nothing. Nowhere to go.”
The mix of panic and despair in her voice would crack my heart if this weren’t a variation on the same story I’ve already heard twenty times today. I do my best to project empathy.
With no safe places to send the survivors, half the time, we’re forced to send them north, to Canavale, or as far as Lorcan’s home district in the mountains. We’ve made slow progress, what with having to leave work crews behind to repair buildings as best we could. Some decide they’d rather travel with us, straining what food supplies we’ve been able to muster.
At this rate, we won’t make it back to Central Auralia until Midwinter.
