In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

37. Rose

37

Rose

I woke with a bittersweet taste in my mouth and my tongue glued to the roof so thickly I had to work to pry it down. Stretching, I rolled over in bed, groaning against the bright sunlight turning the back of my eyelids red.

An abrupt realization chased away all grogginess.

The second trial was supposed to start today. I wondered if I’d receive a note like last time, or if there was some other method the architects had devised to tell us what to do.

I hurriedly bathed and dressed, opting for a pair of comfortable black pants that fit snugly inside my boots and a fitted shirt that wouldn’t get in the way if I had to move quickly. I grabbed my dagger and took stock of my charms, distributing them between my pockets and my small pouch, then hooked it to my belt loop.

Surprised nobody had called for me yet, I crossed to the door and opened it, peering down the hall to find it…empty. Horace was gone, and there were no maids scuttling about like normal, bringing towels or breakfast or dusting the decor lining the walls. I made my way to the closest adjoining hall, expecting to see lords with their fancy cloaks, messengers delivering mail, or guards stationed at various intervals.

But it was empty, too .

The palace was eerily silent.

A pit formed in my stomach. Where was everybody?

Suddenly, shattering glass and a scream broke through the quietness. Following the sound, I raced down the corridor and turned a corner to find a window had been smashed. A young maid cowered on the ground before it with her hands over her head.

I rushed to her and helped her back to her feet. “What happened?” I asked.

She hiccuped through her sobs. “Ev-everyone i-is—” But she couldn’t finish her sentence, instead nodding out the window to the palace grounds beyond.

Slowly, I stepped across the glass littering the floor and leaned over the stone sill of the window, heart faltering at what unfolded before me.

Shouts and clashing steel met my ears. Plumes of dark gray smoke and flickers of red and orange flames rose from the village barely visible over the surrounding forest. Figures in the Royal Guard uniform of silver mixed with those in civilian clothing dashed from the palace and through the trees, making their way toward a thunderous boom coming from beyond the woods. Even from three stories up, I could hear the desperate cries of the wounded citizens under attack in the central sector.

“When did this start?” I asked the maid, shaking her shoulders urgently when she did nothing but cry into her hands. “What’s happening?”

“M-Mysthelm, my lady,” she wailed. “A-attacked just an hour ago. Everybody l-left to fight.”

My jaw fell open. Mysthelm? I thought we hadn’t heard from the non-magic kingdom in centuries . What in the world was happening? Why would they be attacking us? Had the emperor been keeping some conflict with them a secret from the rest of the provinces?

I released the maid and turned away, but she grabbed my arm. “Th-they’re in the palace, my lady,” she whispered, terror etched on every inch of her face .

My stomach plummeted to my feet. Beau and Morgana .

Bolting to the nearest stairwell, I descended to the bottom level, commotion growing louder the closer I got to the main hall. Men in armor I didn’t recognize were fighting with Veridian soldiers, the corridors littered with broken wood, glass, ripped tapestries, and pools of blood. Several bodies lay mangled on the floor, and I jerked my gaze away when it landed on a severed hand detached from a fallen guard. Dodging flailing limbs, I reached into my satchel to cast an invisibility spell over myself.

I knew something was wrong before I even reached the infirmary.

Bloody footprints led away from the entrance. Sobs haunted the corridor, making the edges of my vision gray with panic. I almost slipped on slick blood as I entered the healer’s wing, stifling a scream at the sight.

The curtains that had hung as partitions between patients were shredded, shelves full of supplies knocked over, beds tipped and cast aside, broken vials and bandages and potions scattered across the ground.

And every single patient…

Every patient was dead.

I covered my mouth as a horrified cry worked its way up my throat. I recognized the men and women from the times I’d come to visit Ragnar, now slumped lifelessly in their beds, blood bubbling from their slit throats.

Blindly, I tore through the wing, past bodies of nurses and broken furniture.

I stopped before a familiar bed.

My knees hit the hard floor, sending a shockwave up my legs and spine.

Ragnar .

His right arm hung off the side of the bed, his head bent at an unnatural angle on the pillow. Blood dripped from his neck and pooled on the stark white sheets.

I screamed .

I screamed until my throat was raw and my head pounded from exertion. Until the sound became a strangled whisper.

I screamed, but there was no one there to hear.

I was spiraling, caught between the past and present, between my father’s glassy eyes and my uncle’s closed lids, between my little hands soaked in blood and the fingers now clawing at my tear-soaked eyes. I felt my invisibility spell drop, but didn’t care. I couldn't breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move?—

Where were Morgana and Beau?

That single, penetrating thought was the only thing that pulled me from the darkness. The image of my aunt’s raven hair and cousin’s gangly arms gave me strength to rise from my knees and follow the path out of the infirmary. The hope of finding them safe and secure in their room kept me floating across the hall as if in a daze until I reached their door and twisted the handle.

It was unlocked.

I threw myself into the room, tearing and scrabbling and stumbling through every nook and cranny, calling their names until I didn’t recognize the sound.

Nobody was there.

They were gone.

“My lady!” a voice sounded behind me, and I rounded on them like a feral cat, slamming my hand against the stranger’s throat and shoving him into the wall by the door.

“Where are they?” I snarled.

The man sputtered beneath my hold, and I loosened my grip. “Civilians were—were taken hostage,” he finally got out. I released his neck and staggered backward, the backs of my knees hitting the bed.

“ Hostage ? Where did they take them?”

“W-we don’t know, my lady.” He rubbed at his throat. “Our guards saw a black carriage carrying some toward the central sector. We think that’s where the attack originated.”

Hostage.

Central sector .

Black carriage.

I stormed from the room and retraced my steps to the main hall, my normal charm of amaranth stem mixed with mistletoe and blackthorn ash already on my tongue. When I grabbed my dagger from my waist, the weight of it settled something in me. Alchemists didn’t rely much on weapons of steel, but Ragnar had taught Beau and me from a young age how to wield basic swords and daggers. “ Never be so confident in magic that you fail to use all tools at your disposal ,” he would say.

I would not fail.

As I rushed toward the palace entrance, a band of four soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms rounded on me, their swords raised high and glistening red. Mysthelm, I presumed.

I didn’t even have a chance to feel fear. Not for myself . Not when all my dread was consumed in thoughts of what could be happening to my innocent aunt and cousin at that very moment.

I slipped an angelica leaf into my mouth, its sweet licorice taste mingling with the amaranth protection spell.

“ Incendar ,” I muttered, and my open palm filled with fire, mildly warm against my skin but deadly to my foes.

The men exchanged wary glances. I cocked my head. “What, never seen an Alchemist before?” Flicking my finger, I sent a stream of fire blazing at the one on the far left, watching with cold eyes as the flames enveloped his body. His companion next to him yelped, leaping to help put it out. The two remaining faced me with renewed vigor.

“Get out of my way, or I’ll be the last one you ever see,” I growled.

They merely smirked.

“Fine.” I beckoned them closer, and they charged. “ Aegesis nova. ”

The instant the first soldier tried to thrust his sword at my chest, there was a squelch and a choked cry. A hole appeared in his breastplate, showing the gash beneath caused by an invisible blade. My retaliation charm had worked better than I thought. Blood squirted from the wound as he dropped to his knees, confusion and anguish written on his features.

Within seconds, he was dead.

The other one glanced between him and me, then decided to take his chances and lunged. He was smarter than his friend, aiming for non-fatal blows: my ankles, my shoulders, my elbows. Each time, he cried out as thin lines of ruby red welled from his skin, while mine remained untouched. After the fourth try, he clutched at his wrist, dropping his sword. I strode toward him and kicked him in the stomach. He sprawled backward and tripped over his dead companion. Scrambling to the nearest column, he tried to stand, but I shoved my forearm against his neck and pinned him to the wall, pressing my dagger into his cheek.

“The civilians who were taken hostage. Where did they go?” I demanded. When he failed to respond, I dug the tip of the blade in deeper, his cheek dimpling as blood bloomed on the surface and dripped to the ground. “ Tell me .”

“You’ll never catch them,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What are your people going to do with them?”

“What do you think?” He spat to the side, lips curving into a sadistic smile. “They’ll get what all you magic freaks deserve.”

My insides froze. I began to back away, when I caught the scent of…of peppermint and rubbing alcohol.

Like the ointments in the infirmary. Coming from the man under my hold.

With a sharp, distant voice I barely recognized as my own, I asked, “Were you the one who killed them?”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” he spat.

My grip on my dagger tightened. “The patients in the healer’s wing.”

His sick grin broadened.

Fury blinded me. Before he could move, I pulled my forearm off and dragged my blade across his throat.

He died with that smile still on his face.

Disgusted, I pushed away from him and watched as he slumped to his knees, then landed face first onto the ground. I swallowed down rising bile and clenched the handle. Whirling on my heels, I forced any thought beyond getting to the central sector from my mind.

The fighting and the fallen blurred together as I sprinted past them and burst into the morning air, following the sounds of explosions and shouting to the north. The pillar of smoke rising behind the treeline guided my way.

Everything except my heaving breaths and pounding of my feet on the forest floor faded. I would find Morgana and Beau, whatever it took. They had to be safe. I couldn’t lose them, too.

I sped north through the small forest, forcing air into my lungs and pushing past the stitch in my side. Soon, the trees and undergrowth thinned and leveled out, opening to the village of the central sector.

Shop windows were blown in, thatched rooftops had been set ablaze, and civilians and soldiers alike swarmed the open streets. Men in what I recognized now as the black armor of Mysthelm barged forward, bringing as many Veridians to their knees as they could. Magic also filled the air—bright beams of sun rays shot from Lightbenders, wisping shadows of the Shadow Wielders engulfed enemies whole, giant creatures of all kinds prowled underfoot, ripping limbs and heads from Mysthelm guards.

And there was blood. So much blood.

It was chaos. It was carnage.

But there were no black carriages in sight.

For a split second, the light and shadows and fire seemed to shimmer, but when I rubbed my eyes, the effect waned. In my peripheral vision, I saw several hooded figures crouching low to the ground with children burrowed in their arms. At first I thought they were the enemy carrying off innocent young ones, but then I realized they were using shadows to cloak them from sight.

Veridians, not Mysthelm soldiers. And they were heading toward a building secluded from the rest that hadn’t yet been touched. They were taking them to safety .

I darted into the nearest house, searching for signs of inhabitants. A woman and a little girl were tucked away in a closet, the mother rocking her daughter close to her chest as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Come on, you need to get out,” I said hurriedly, offering my hand. I pulled them both up and we rushed out the door, keeping low to the ground and the shadows of the street.

“Do you see them? Heading toward that building?” I pointed, and the woman nodded. “Follow them. They’ll keep you safe.”

I watched as they scurried off, then made my way from house to house, rounding up any straggler I could find and sending them off as swiftly and inconspicuously as possible.

Exiting one of the houses, I was almost trampled by an oncoming horse and carriage making its way west.

A black carriage.

The back of it contained rows of steel bars, with men, women, and children crammed inside, hands flailing out the space between rods as if trying to get free.

A face stared back at me from behind the cage. A face I knew as well as my own.

“ Beau !” I shrieked, throwing myself into the street and racing after the carriage. For a moment, it flickered, and I blinked against the mirage, holding my hand out as if I could catch him.

A female Veridian guard flew into view. She grabbed onto my outstretched arm, blocking Beau and the carriage from sight. I screamed at her and pulled out of her grip so I could get to my cousin, but her next words made me stop.

“Were you helping those people get to the shelter?”

I slid my focus to her as she gestured to the building behind us. “Y-yes,” I gasped, my mind spinning. “They’re?—”

She shook my shoulders. “They’re going to blow it up! I heard a Mysthelm soldier say they’re planning to drop an explosive on it. We have to get them out!” she insisted, dragging me with her back toward the building.

Away from Beau .

I ripped my arm away. “I c-can’t,” I pleaded. “My family?—”

“Didn’t you see how many people were being led there?” Her voice was frantic. “We can’t leave them to be slaughtered!”

My neck snapped to the direction the carriage had gone in, pulse pounding so hard I felt it in my palms, my ears, my gut.

I closed my eyes against the destruction around me.

I knew I should save the mass of innocent lives holed away in that building—many of which I’d put there under the promise of safety.

But my heart…

My heart was stuck behind the bars of a cage, barreling toward an unknown fate.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered weakly, and took off after my cousin.