Chapter 32 #3
“It’s gone, it’s all gone,” I sobbed.
Vastion knelt before me, his hands bracing my arms with steady pressure. “It will be alright; we will help them rebuild. I promise you this, Esiree.”
“To what end?” I cried, the words tasting of salt and ash. “They are not safe here. Humans are not safe anywhere!”
“Do not lose your resolve now,” he urged, searching my eyes.
“This is why our cause is so vital. We must scour them from this world before this tragedy spreads further.” He helped me to my feet, his grip firm.
“They are our people, Es. We are the only hope they have, even if they do not yet know it.”
I tried to let his words soothe me, but the muted sun was already creeping lower.
The fear that Leto could not withstand another nightfall sat cold and foreboding in my stomach, a terror that refused to settle.
He wrapped his arms around me then, holding me in a tight embrace that for a moment blocked out the ruins of my home.
“Don’t make me do it, please. I can’t,” I pleaded into his chest, the tears continuing to spill over.
“Make you do what, Es?” he asked softly, his hand stroking the back of my head in a soothing motion, grounding me.
“Call the census. It is an insult.” I paused, pulling back, and Vastion met my gaze with silent consideration. “These people deserve funerals and ceremony. They should not be herded and numbered like livestock in the wake of a massacre.”
“I will think on this,” he promised. “But it is more vital than ever that we understand the scale of this atrocity. Perhaps… Perhaps we can begin by hearing their grievances first.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” I snapped, pulling away from his embrace. “Grievances? Vastion, many have no homes or livelihoods left to mourn. The petty squabbles of weeks ago have been incinerated; they have been stripped to the bone.”
“I’m sorry. I know.” He sounded truly at a loss, a rare and jarring thing to witness. He always seemed so certain—or at least he wore confidence like a suit of armor for the sake of others. Now, the armor showed its cracks. He began to pace, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
“We will hold a service,” I said, a sudden spark of clarity cutting through my despair. “To honor their memory. We will station a scribe at the entrance for any who wish to etch their loved one’s names into a Book of Remembrance.”
“But—”
“I know that won’t tell you precisely how many remain, but it will still shed light on the losses.
It’s better than delivering Mina nothing.
She can do whatever silly little calculations from previous estimates; I really don’t give a fuck.
” My language had quickly devolved to that lowly girl from Leto, and there was nothing noble about my manner of speech.
What good was this title if I couldn’t even protect what mattered most?
“I will make arrangements in alignment with your wishes,” he conceded. “However, I am going to make some decisions of my own.”
I listened intently.
“Leto cannot withstand another siege,” Vastion said, his voice hard. “I intend to lead a party tonight. We will take our station on the outskirts, intercepting the Forlorn before they can reach the walls.”
I had not expected him to depart so soon. The plan had always been to wait for the safety of day, when the Forlorn would be forced back into the shadows of their nests.
He continued, “At dawn we will move to identify their tunnels and deploy the weapon. If we are successful, we can eliminate the bulk of their numbers before the next sun sets.”
“It is too risky,” I warned. “To be outside the walls at night…”
“We cannot let the humans face another night of terror. You know that as well as I,” he countered. “My reinforcements will bear the brunt of any attack before it can reach the gates.”
“And what if they breach your defenses?” I asked, my mind racing to the worst-case scenario. “How many will be left to protect us?”
“I will leave a sufficient garrison behind to protect the Letorians, but the only way to save what’s left is to cut the rot out at the source.”
Vastion was as unyielding in his resolve as I was in my own, but his haste gave me pause. Things were moving too quickly. I knew we were both acting on raw emotion, but the devastation we had found upon our arrival demanded immediate, desperate measures.
“Come,” he ushered me toward the exit. “I should like to deliver you to your family personally. I ask—no, I demand that you stay with them this evening. Do. Not. Wander.” He looked at me with a stern, unyielding intensity.
“I will station a guard at your door until my return. They are to escort you everywhere.”
As he reached for the handle, I caught his wrist, pulling him back toward me. I rose onto the tips of my toes, my hands tangling in his cloak as I kissed him deeply, just once.
A kiss for his safety. A kiss for his swift return. But mostly, it was a kiss born of private necessity; I dared not let my father or brother witness the true depth of my affection for their sworn enemy.