A handful of people moved through the wreckage, sweeping shattered glass into piles, straightening overturned tables. Jakes was one of them, helping a man carry a body to the side of the road. The fact that he was still here, and had been knocked unconscious by defensors, had seemed to smooth any worry about Jakes’s loyalties. A foolish mistake, but Ben was too exhausted to care, just like these people, who worked and straightened and cleaned.
Ben moved toward a nearby pile of rubble—it must have once been crates of produce. Now the piles of broken wood and smashed fruit spread across the road.
Ben bent, retrieving pieces of wood. The gnarled edges snagged his hands.
“Here, let me.” Gunnar reached for the debris.
Ben recoiled.
“Benat,” Gunnar said, low and tinged with hurt.
A correction waited on Ben’s tongue.Prince Benat.It had always been his easiest buffer when Jakes angered him.I am your prince. I am royalty. How dare you take liberties.
But Gunnar wasn’t his subject. The two of them were in this fight against Elazar together, an equal trade of servicesthat Ben would repay by helping Gunnar bring peace to the Mechtlands later.
Ben had no shield against Gunnar. Silence was the only thing keeping a cap on the torrent of agony in his chest, a storm that he wasn’t sure he had the strength to weather.
These people. This sanctuary.
He could have saved it. He could have stopped this. If he had just taken the vial of permanent magic, still in his pocket; if Gunnar had broken him out; if Jakes hadn’t realized that Ben would get killed if he left that cell.
Could Ben truly have gotten Tomás Andreu to leave the sanctuary in peace before defensors killed him? No.But right now, Ben hated that both Gunnar and Jakes had been rational in a moment of chaos, while he himself had been soirrational.
Ben kicked the remaining rubble of the crates aside, his nose burning with the stench of smoke and death.
“I’m sorry,” Gunnar whispered. Ben felt those blue eyes crest over him once, twice.
The dull thud of wood drew his attention down the road. There, a man righted a barrel and leaped onto it, his cheeks tearstained, his clothes darkened with blood likely not his own.
The man pointed at the sanctuary. No one in particular; either he didn’t know Ben, Kari, and the raider Heads were nearby, or he didn’t care.
“Elazar’s defensors fled in retreat!” the man cried. Ben winced at the grief in his voice. “He tried to cleanse this place, to save us. Who would have thought a day would come when Argrid was trying to save us? But it has come, and we did nothing to help ourselves! We are still here, trapped under foul raider cruelty, forced to mourn loved ones who are dead by their hand! If we want peace, we have to take it. We cannot expect Argrid to save us alone.”
Ben braced himself. Around him, other refugees gathered, stumbling away from the corpses of loved ones caught in the battle, the destruction of this place they had called home, or at least safe. They gathered at the feet of the man, staring up at him through teary eyes.
“Raiders did this!” the man screamed, raw and cleaving. “The raiders are criminals and murders, heathens of the worst sort. Elazar was right. He was—”
A knot of rage formed in Ben’s stomach.No.Not again. It was happening here, too, this manic devotion Elazar inspired in people. Argrid had been under his influence for decades, and seeing it there still broke Ben’s heart—but on Grace Loray? The one country in this world that had every cause to loathe Elazar? They were rallyingforhim now?
Ben’s hands closed into fists. His rage welled higher, pressing against his throat. “No,” he said through clenched teeth, and he took a step forward.
Gunnar was there, an arm across his chest. Ben redirected his rage. If Gunnar told him not to confront thisman—if he held Ben back,again—
But Gunnar’s face softened. “He was right,” he said. “Elazar, in the village when he paraded us. Everything he said, he was right then, too. If I was as these people, on the brink of another war in my country, searching for blame and hope—”
“You believe my father?” Grayness wavered at the edges of Ben’s vision.
Gunnar shook his head. “No. But I see how they do. Elazar speaks to their fears.”
A question came in the pause.And what have I spoken to?
Gunnar’s arm was still across Ben’s chest, not restraining now—more like holding Ben upright.
A movement to Ben’s right made his head snap around. Nate stomped up the road, face red and snarling, a gun already in one hand.
Ben lurched around Gunnar. “And what of the people Elazar burned?”
His words in Grace Lorayan brought silence over the gathering crowd. Even Nate stopped, his glare transferring from the man to Ben.
