hope so. Yes.”
“I feel we should have been friends long before this,” he said, and my throat closed up and all I could do was nod. “We will make up for lost time later. May Kalaad smile down upon you, Abhi.”
“And you, Tamhan,” I said, giving him a tight grin and a nod, letting my hands fall from him as he did the same. I’d been dwelling on the fact that when that captain had shot at me, it wasn’t just Madhep who had stepped in front of the bolt. Tamhan had stepped in, too. Perhaps he felt as I did for him, or perhaps he merely had the heart of a hero. But it wasn’t the time to ask.
Our eyes lingered on each other for an uncountable span, and then they fell away. He turned to join the others, they all waved, and I turned away in case my face showed how much I didn’t want to be alone then.
I mounted the extra horse, and Murr and Eep followed along as I searched for the old trade road heading south. I found it after a few minutes, and through the dull ache of loneliness I felt the smallest kernel of hope for the future. Perhaps with our concerted efforts we’d be able to make life better for all Nentians. But for all the wonder of the kenning, I’d give it all up in an instant if I could have my family back.
—
“More from Abhi in a few days!” the bard promised. “Here’s someone you ought to recognize.”
He threw down a seeming sphere, and the form of Second Könstad Tallynd du Böll emerged. I watched the faces of the crowd and saw their expressions light up with glee upon her appearance. They hadn’t heard from her directly since his first day on the wall. Applause erupted before Fintan said another word. He let it wash over him for a while, knowing it was for the Second Könstad as much as for him, then held up his hands to quiet them and let Tallynd speak.
When I surfaced near the docks at Gönerled, the smell of rot made me gag and I had to dive back underwater, take a clean filtered breath, then rise again, holding my nose. There was nothing alive except blackwings feeding on the dead. My sister lay among them somewhere, along with her family. I longed to find her if I could and return her to the sea, giving her a gentle farewell after the violence she suffered. But she would have to wait with all the others. My mission was to scout the enemy, destroy small targets where I could, and note what needed to be done in the fallen cities should we be victorious.
The note taking was quite literal: I had a waterproof satchel with writing materials, food, and fresh water inside. Pulling myself up onto the docks and wicking away the moisture from my clothing, I performed the quickest survey possible: No watchers on the walls, gates wide open, bodies everywhere, even in the wells. Structures all intact. Like Festwyf, Gönerled could be scoured and lived in again if people could bear the feeling of being haunted.
On to Göfyrd, moving at the top speed I could manage without strain, where there were most definitely sentries on the walls. The Bone Giants had decided to stay there, no doubt because of the rich food stores, and strategically it posed a problem for us. They could strike at Pelemyn, Tömerhil, or Setyrön from there. If we struck at them, we would leave our cities open to counterattack, and we didn’t have ten thousand soldiers to throw at the walls anyway.
I spent the night in Setyrön, exhausted from the travel and the emotional wear, confirming for their quartermaster that Göfyrd was occupied and delivering some messages from the pelenaut and the Lung.
He told me that Möllerud was abandoned like Gönerled and he had approved an expedition of mariners, merchants, and citizens to head down there, scuttle the Bone Giant fleet, and begin cleaning up the city. I wearily noted after the next morning’s journey that the city was indeed abandoned and ready for cleanup. There was only the Bone Giant ships anchored in the harbor and blackwings circling above. From there I sleeved myself to Hillegöm, where I assumed I’d find the army that had landed at Möllerud. And by midafternoon, I did find them, but they were not inside the walls.
They were walking—not marching, not in formation,