He made a sound, a soft rumble that I felt more than heard. “You don’t do that enough. You never have.”
I felt a twist in my chest, one I forced myself to breathe through. “Is the Bay the actual gateway to the real Temples of Rhain?” I asked instead.
His breath was warm against my cheek as he said, “Stygian Bay is where Rhain sleeps, deep below. It borders Pompay, and its southern coast reaches Spessa’s End.”
A jolt of surprise widened my eyes. The god really slept there?
“Are we in Spessa’s End?”
“No,” Kieran answered. “We’re about a day’s ride from there. We’ve reached Pompay.”
Pompay—the last Atlantian stronghold.
What I saw taking shape out of the darkness of night stole whatever I was about to say.
First, it was the Rise or what was left of the crumbling walls. Only sections by the entry stood, where no gate existed, stretching dizzying heights into the sky. The rest couldn’t be more than five feet, and most of that was the piles of broken stone.
We rode into a town that no longer existed. Burnt-out homes lined the road, most missing entire walls or were destroyed down to their foundations. No people were about, no candlelight from any windows of the homes that at least had four walls and a roof. Only the sound of the horses’ hooves clattering off the cobblestones could be heard as we traveled farther, past larger buildings with toppled pillars—structures I imagined once held meetings or offered entertainment. Trees were nothing more than skeletons, dead and decaying, and there was no sign of life anywhere. Whatever had happened here hadn’t occurred during the war. The land would have reclaimed the buildings and streets by now if that were the case.
“What happened here?” I winced at the sound of my voice. It felt wrong to speak, to shatter the silence of what appeared to be a graveyard of a town.
“The Ascended feared that with its roots as a once prosperous Atlantian city, Pompay would become a haven for Descenters. But they had little reason to believe that,” Casteel said, his voice hushed. “There were Descenters here, only because there had been no sitting Royal to rule the town after the war, but they were mostly mortals—farmers and the like. But no Ascended wanted to rule so far east, so they razed the town to the ground.”
“What of the people who lived here?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.
Casteel didn’t speak because the answer to my question appeared before me as we rounded a bend in the road. It went on for as far as the eye could see, stone mound upon stone mound, lit only by the silvery moonlight. There were hundreds of them, so many that I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing, even though I knew that what I saw was reality. Pompay was a slaughtered town, truly a graveyard.
“They came in the night some forty or so years ago,” Delano said. “An army of Ascended. They swarmed this town like a plague, feeding upon every man, woman, and child. Those who were not killed turned into Craven and spilled out from Pompay in search of blood.”
Gods.
“The ones who died were left behind to rot in the summer heat and to freeze in the winter,” Kieran said. “Their bodies remained where they’d fallen. A lone person by a tree, dozens in the street.” He cleared his throat. “Couples found in their beds. Entire families in their homes, mothers and fathers clutching their children to them.”
“We buried them,” Casteel told me. “It took some time, but we buried all that remained. Six hundred and fifty-six of them.”
Good gods.
I closed my eyes against the tide of sorrow and shock that flooded me, but I could not unsee the piles and piles of stones of so many senseless deaths.
Casteel’s exhale was rough. “So now you know why the Ascended don’t often travel this far.”
I did know.
I saw.
“I…I don’t know how I’m shocked,” I admitted. “After everything I’ve seen, I don’t understand how I can’t believe this.”
Casteel’s arm tightened around me, but it was Naill who spoke, echoing what the Prince had said earlier. “I don’t think this is something you can ever get used to. At least, I wouldn’t want to. I want to be shocked. I need to be,” the dark-skinned Atlantian told me. “If not, then the line that separates us from the vamprys would be much too thin.”
Chapter 22
We rode on in silence, passing the endless mounds of stones and the ruins of homes and businesses. We stopped just outside the city on the coast of the Bay.
I found little sleep that night, seeing the stone graveyard every time I closed my eyes. Surprisingly, when I did rest, there were no nightmares. When we left at dawn the following morning, I knew the haunting ruins of the city would stay with me for the rest of my life. And as we traveled along Stygian Bay, I feared what awaited us in Spessa’s End.
With the sun beginning its steady climb, glittering off the midnight Bay, the cloaks and gloves became unnecessary. However, with each burnt-out building or dilapidated farm we passed, I was chilled all over again.
When Casteel caught me staring at some toppled marble columns among the reddish reeds, he asked, “You didn’t expect this, did you?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know it was like this. Actually, I didn’t know much about Pompay or Spessa’s End, but I never thought this was the case. I believed the towns still existed. So did Vikter. He talked about wanting to visit the Bay.”
“So few travel this far out that there is little risk of the people of Solis ever discovering what was done to the towns or the people.”
“And there’s little risk of them discovering what has been rebuilt,” Delano added.
Eventually, the day gave way to night, and cooler air was ushered back in. The empty fields were replaced by a heavily wooded area that bordered the fields we rode near. I was beginning to wonder if Spessa’s End even existed or where we’d be staying when we reached the other side of the black Bay when I heard the soft, lilting call of a songbird.
Casteel shifted behind me, lifting his head. He mimicked the cry with one of his own. I started to turn to him in surprise when the call was returned. It wasn’t songbirds. They were signals. The moment I realized that, I finally saw the signs of a city.
Moonlight bathed the sandstone walls of the Rise in silver. Nowhere near as tall as the ones surrounding the larger cities in Solis, the structure still stretched at least a dozen feet into the air, and I could make out numerous square-shaped parapets spaced several feet apart.
Ahead, heavy iron doors shuddered and then groaned, inching open. Torches jutted out from the deep and wide walls of the Rise, casting light around the perimeter. The courtyard was mostly left to the shadows, but farther along, light flickered like a staggered sea of low-hanging stars.
“Was this not destroyed? Or was it rebuilt?” I asked as we rode through the Rise.
“The Rise suffered some damage but remained mostly intact. We’ve been able to repair those sections. See the lights? That’s Stygian Fortress. It belonged to the caretakers of the Bay and was reinforced during the War of Two Kings,” Casteel explained. “The fortress was largely unscathed, even after the war. I suppose the Ascended were afraid to incur the wrath of Rhain by destroying the dwelling, so they left it standing.”
“And the caretakers?” I was half afraid to ask.
“They are buried beyond, in stone graves with the rest of the original people of Spessa’s End,” he answered.
Sick—I truly felt sick. Two entire towns destroyed. And for what? All because the Ascended feared the truth and didn’t want to rule so far east? This was a kind of evil, senseless and inconceivable, and I knew that Spessa’s End and Pompay probably weren’t the only ones. New Haven would most likely face the same fate, and the only small blessing was that Elijah was moving the people out before they too ended up with only a pile of stones as a marker of the lives they led.
“But we’ve reclaimed Spessa’s End, built back as much as we were able to,” Casteel said. “And the Ascended have no idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” Casteel’s thumb made a sweep along my hip. “I’ve found a temporary answer to our land issues.”
Before I could question further, a form took shape on the road, halting any answers to my questions. Setti slowed as I tensed, my hand slipping to the dagger on my thigh out of instinct.
Casteel’s hand folded over mine. “He’s a friendly.”
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“Don’t be,” he said in a low voice. “I’d rather you be prepared than be too trusting.”
A torch flamed to life, casting a reddish glow over the face of a young man. He wasn’t alone. A wolven stood beside him, a smaller one with fur the color of the Bay. Without warning, the wolven bounded toward us, jumping and prancing about like a…an excited puppy that recognized visitors.
“Someone is happy to see you,” Kieran remarked.
Casteel chuckled as he tightened Setti’s reins. “Careful, Beckett. You don’t want to get too close to the horse.”
The young wolven danced back as his tail wagged frantically before he wiggled his way toward Delano.