A Cruel Kindness

Chapter 33

Soren

“Pull your shirt up,” I told Bellamy. “Cover your mouth and nose.”

I looked back to find she already did that, her eyes scanning the field. “I don’t think any of these people are Muli.”

I turned back, finding our own soldiers sprinting in between burning buildings with buckets of water in their hands.

God damnit.

I didn’t want to leave her side, but we probably needed to split up.

Bellamy was already ahead of me. “I’ll go to the cabin. Grab as much stuff as I can. You find Peter. If we need to head out, bring Clover to—”

A loud, shrieking neigh cut off Bellamy’s sentence. Clover was barreling towards her, huffing as she ran.

“I guess they really do stay in the stables on their own regard,” Bellamy quipped sarcastically as Clover approached, whining in concern. “It’s okay, sweet girl,” Bellamy said, running her hand down her neck.

“Bell,” I said, beckoning her to me. She came over quickly, falling into my embrace like it was as natural as breathing. “I’ll meet you at the cabin.”

Bellamy rose up on her toes to give me a quick kiss. I helped her jump onto Clover’s back, dragging my hand down from her shoulder to her leg as she started to turn away. As I watched her ride towards the forest were our cabin was nestled, her dark hair stark against the glowing fires dotted behind her, I felt my heart stop for a solid second.

Lucky’s snout knocked me in the ass a second later, almost pushing me into the mud. “Alright, boy,” I said as I swung over his back. “Let’s go.”

Lucky ran the perimeter of the camp and I looked on as I saw every single important building erupting in flames. Our food stores. Our weapons storage. Our reserves.

Everything.

Someone had clearly cased the camp. You couldn’t tell the difference between a lot of the buildings, all that same, quickly built cabin structure, unless you knew what was inside.

A sick feeling bloomed in my chest when I realized that they might not have had to case the camp at all. They had someone in their midst who knew this camp like the back of their hand.

I hoped Carson had nothing to do with this. I couldn’t save him if he did.

As much as I was still angry at him for what he’d done, I didn’t wish death on him.

That would be his punishment if he had a hand in this.

I looped around by the main house, watching as people ran from it with food falling out of their arms. From this vantage point, I could see a crowd gathering around the Bridge, prepared to defend it with their life.

Ford’s head stood tall among the crowd, so I sent Lucky barreling down the slope for him. Only one of our lovely deities could have had a hand in this timing, rarely blessing us with a moment of clarity.

I noticed a few bright lights started dotting the sky, taking on a more yellow, orangeish hue rather than the brilliant white of the stars.

No one else could have seen it. They were all too focused on the Bridge.

“BACK UP!” I yelled at the crowd, hoping they were smart enough to listen. Ford was, immediately barking orders for people to flee without even turning to acknowledge me.

He managed to run away with several people in tow, right as three flaming arrows flew from the sky, landing on the top of the cave that concealed the Bridge.

An explosion rocked the camp a second later.

Debris flew everywhere, blasting chunks of rock into the air and out to pelt people fleeing from the Bridge. It was a relatively small blast, not intended to cause casualties.

Just to destroy the entrance to the Bridge under a mass of heavy rock.

Lucky reared back as we finally made it to the crowd. Ford pushed himself up with a heaving breath, muttering, “What the hell?”

The Bridge was destroyed. The energy coursing through that portal to Vir could never truly be cut off, but that small cave that had shuffled hundreds of people through, like they were simply stepping out into the morning light after a night of seeking shelter, was collapsed in on itself under piles of rock.

I turned to look for more flaming arrows, but the night was black and rich with stars.

The job had been done.

Muli had played their hand, destroying our camp, our resources, and our way back to get more.

Our only solace seemed to be that most of the private cabins remained in tact.

“What was that?!” Esme screamed, running up from the stables. Her eyes flicked briefly to Ford before settling on the Bridge. Her breath caught, her eyes blowing wide.

“You okay?” Ford asked, but Esme brushed him off.

“Why are you up?” she asked me. “Wait, where is Bellamy?”

“She went back to the cabin to grab some stuff for us just in case. She’s okay. I wouldn’t have let her go if she wasn’t.” Something weird happened on Esme’s face then.

There was a moment where she seemed relieved that Bellamy was okay, even as our world burned down around us.

Then panic fled her expression so fast I almost missed it before she took off sprinting away from us.

?

Bellamy

Elijah must really hate us.

Whether it was a personal vendetta against me, or Soren, or some combination of the two or just a general mean streak, it was clear that he was out to get us in some capacity.

Because I was standing in front of our cabin, watching it burn to the ground.

I’d heard an explosion rock the camp from somewhere distant, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I was frozen in shock, unable to do anything but watch as the structure that had been the closest thing to home I had, collapsed on itself under raging flames.

I’d just made it in time to grab a few things. Soren would probably kill me for going in at all, but the flames hadn’t climbed to the roof yet when I’d gotten here.

I’d dipped a bandana in water from the river before rushing inside. The fire was mostly contained to the kitchen at first, spreading back to the bathroom connected to Esme and Ford’s bedroom.

Mine and Soren’s bags were still pretty full from our trip back home, so those were easy to toss outside. It took a little more maneuvering for Esme and Ford. Their bathroom was lost to the flames, but I was able to get the go-bag Ford had conveniently stashed in their closet.

Always prepared, that one.

For Esme, I went right for her jewelry. Her case of rich metal was stored in the closet, so I swiped that and a handful of her clothes, looking back in pain as I watched a wooden beam collapse over their sink and smother her toiletries in flames.

That had been my cue to leave.

I’d managed to run a good distance away from the cabin before my shock took over and my feet planted into the ground, unable to move as I watched the structure burn.

Not even the explosion got my attention.

It was Soren’s voice that did it.

“BELLAMY!” he yelled at me, surely to tell me to get the hell away from the fire. Clover nudged my stomach, as if she was agreeing with him that I needed to move.

“I’m okay!” I yelled back at him as Lucky approached. Soren didn’t even wait for him to stop before he jumped off his back and ran toward me, crushing me to his chest.

“The Bridge is gone,” he said against my hair as he hugged me.

“Gone?” That didn’t seem right.

Soren smoothed his hand down my hair, then explained. “They blew it up. It’s still under there, but it will take us time to uncover. They burned fucking everything.”

“I got our bags,” I said, the sounds muffled against his shirt. That wasn’t really an appropriate response, but shock hardly ever was. “Some of Esme and Ford’s stuff too.”

“Thank you, baby,” Soren said. It was horrible, but I felt okay in his arms. Even with everything.

My peace was cut off a second later by the most blood curdling scream I’d ever heard. Soren and I sprang apart to find Esme sprinting towards us, her face filled with horror.

“No, no, no,” she kept shouting, her focus so singular. Ford was on her heels, but was seemingly letting her run. That was until she kept moving, looking like she was intent on running into the flames.

Ford’s arms came around her stomach, holding her back and she screamed and fought him.

“I got some of your stuff,” I said, thinking that she was upset over her belongings. It was a little more intense of a reaction than I expected from her, but I wasn’t one to judge what panic made you do.

Esme turned toward the bag at my feet, stuffed with whatever I could grab of hers. She pushed out of Ford’s arms and collapsed to the ground, riffing through the bag.

Her jewelry box was discarded to the side like it was worthless and she dug and dug and dug, clearly looking for something.

We all stood in horror, watching as she searched for something that clearly wasn’t there and as her screams got louder, more panicked with each passing moment.

Ford’s face was stoic, if not frozen in fear. Even if there wasn’t a Bond between them, no person with a heart could hear the pain in Esme’s screams and not feel something.

“Esme,” I said, crouching down in front of her. “What are you looking for?”

She looked up at me and I realized she had tears streaming down her face. “Did you grab anything from the bathroom?”

I shook my head, my eyebrows creasing together. “No. The fire already got to it.”

Esme’s face crumpled so thoroughly, I thought I might start crying alongside her. She pushed to stand, turning on her heel so fast, I couldn’t drag her back.

Ford stepped in her path, picking her up as she tried to run right through him, muttering, “No, you don’t.”

Esme’s screams were so loud, so commanding, that I hardly noticed the arrow shooting in front of us until it implanted in the ground, reverberating from the force of its descent.

Soren jumped in front of me, blocking me from another incoming attack.

“Don’t you dare,” I snapped at him, fighting his strength to get him out of the way. At first, his defenses were strong, barely able to move him an inch. Eventually, his strength started to fade and I was able to muscle my way in front of him.

I realized then why he’d stopped fighting me.

There would be no more arrows. This was a singular message.

Attached to the end of the arrow was a rolled up scroll, tied with a deep purple ribbon. The same color as the seal that had sent the Prince’s offer of peace to my father.

Soren grabbed it before I could warn him away from any poison. He unraveled the scroll slowly, revealing a promise, scrawled in someone’s handwriting, as if the message was so personal it needed to come from their own hand, rather than a machine.

The Bridge will be ours.