Ruined - Amy Tintera Page 0,36

wane. The more power you bring out, the weaker they get.”

Cas suddenly wished he’d brought his sword. It had been stupid to run out of his room without grabbing his sword first. His father had one at his hip.

The circle of guards parted as they approached, revealing a young man in the middle. He sat in the dirt, his hands tied behind his back. He was dressed in all black, with spots of dust on his pants and shirt. He had a small cut under one eye, but he was otherwise unharmed. His arms were covered in an intricate web of marks, and Cas squinted to see them better. He’d always assumed the Ruined marks were ugly. But this Ruined’s were a shade lighter than his olive skin, a series of thin lines that wrapped around his flesh like a complicated series of vines. They were more art than ugly.

“He hasn’t spoken, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said to the king.

The Ruined straightened, and he looked from the king to the prince. He stayed focused on Cas, his eyebrows furrowing.

The Ruined was staring at him like he was considering the best way to murder him. Now Cas really wished he had a sword.

“He will,” the king said. “But that’s not my concern at the moment.” He frowned at Cas. “Plant your feet. Watch the trees.”

Anticipation and fear fluttered in Cas’s chest. He nodded solemnly. The Ruined was still staring at him. He pretended not to notice. Galo stepped next to him, sword drawn.

“Up,” a guard said to the Ruined, kicking him in the side. The Ruined glared at him, slowly getting to his feet. He was young. Maybe the same age as Cas.

The guard delivered a punch straight into the Ruined’s stomach, and the gasp echoed through the trees. The wind blew Cas’s hair into his eyes, and he pushed it away as the guard punched the man across the face.

“What is he doing?” Cas asked his father quietly.

“Making him angry.”

The Ruined stumbled backward, hitting the ground with a thump. Another guard hauled him to his feet, shoving him back to the center of the circle.

Another gust of wind blew across Cas’s face, this one stronger than the last. A hunter stepped forward, pulling a dagger off his belt. He held his hand up to the guard, indicating that he should stop.

“You have to work harder with this one. He has pretty good control.” The hunter grabbed the Ruined by the arm, cutting off his ropes with a quick slice of the knife. He pulled one hand behind the Ruined’s back.

The hunter sliced off one of the Ruined’s fingers.

A scream tore through the night, and Cas’s entire body went cold. Blood dripped from the Ruined’s hand, his face twisted in pain.

The ground started to shake.

Cas stumbled, throwing his arms out to steady himself. A long crack ripped through the dirt right in between his legs, and he quickly jumped to one side. A guard had his arm, keeping him steady as the ground rumbled.

“Heads up!” someone yelled, and Cas spun around to see the tree just next to the Ruined tilting dangerously to the left. A few hunters scrambled out of the way as the roots ripped out of the dirt. The trunk slammed to the ground, narrowly missing a guard. Two more trees quickly followed.

The Ruined tried to make a run for it, but a guard grabbed him from behind. Another one punched him across the face. Dirt lifted off the ground as if caught in an invisible wind. The Ruined glared as he tossed it in the faces of a few guards.

Cas whirled around, shaking off the guard who still had his arm. His father stood in front of him. Behind him, Cas heard a loud smack, then a grunt from the Ruined. The ground rumbled again, though not nearly as powerfully as the first time.

“Imagine if you were alone with him,” the king said. He gestured at a fallen tree. “Look what he’s capable of.”

Look what he did because you tortured him. The thought hit him so forcefully he felt sick.

“Who is he?” Cas asked quietly. He wanted his father to tell him that this was one of the worst Ruined. Explain how he’d killed innocent people. Maybe he’d been with the group that murdered Mary’s parents.

“You heard them,” the king said, gesturing at the guards. “He hasn’t spoken. We’ll find out who he is and why he was crossing into Olso soon enough, though.”

Dread filled