Chapter 77
KALLIE
When Kallie stepped outside the tent, she knew her prayers had gone unanswered. She found no new arrivals, heard no cheers of relief.
The sun had barely risen, and the leaves above blocked most of the creeping light from seeping into the forest. Across the ground, most people still lay asleep.
Some were already up. A few men strolled into the camp, a couple of rabbits thrown over their shoulder.
Another was gathering supplies for a fire.
With a yawn, Graeson stretched his arms high, then dug his hands through his thick, black hair. The gold rings adorning his fingers sparkled in the morning light as he tousled his hair. His cheek was red from sleeping on his arm. When his gaze met hers, he frowned. "What’s wrong?"
"They’re not here," she said, scanning the field as if she had somehow missed an entire army.
Kallie wondered if the gods were even listening or if the skies were so flooded with prayers that they were incapable of answering them. Or maybe this was part of the gods’ plans all along.
Hadn’t Barinthian told Graeson that the mortals needed to be reminded of the natural order off the world? That humans had started a dangerous game by creating creatures that shouldn’t have existed and by granting powers to those who did not bear the blood of the gods?
"No word from Terin either?" Graeson asked.
Kallie shook her head and wrapped her arms around her torso tightly. Terin hadn’t visited her in her dreams since he had informed them of the battle. She told herself it was because he needed to preserve his energy, but she also knew how tumultuous the Red Sea was to cross.
"They’ll come," Graeson said, but he failed to hide his creeping doubt.
"And if they don’t?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"We press on with those who are willing and able. By fire or blade, Sebastian dies today," he said, his gaze locking with hers. "I can promise you that."
Kallie closed her eyes, tipping her head to the treetops.
Where are you?
She knew Terin could not hear her, but she couldn’t help but try.
"Come on," Graeson said, wrapping his hand around hers. "Let’s see if we can help with prepping breakfast."
Kallie sighed but followed. They wove through the sleeping bodies spread across the camp toward the small group preparing breakfast. When they offered their assistance, though, an elderly woman swatted them away.
"There are already enough cooks in my kitchen," the woman said.
Kallie didn’t bother saying there was no kitchen, only a few rocks and a stump signaling the area. Instead, the two of them took a seat against a nearby tree on the outskirts of the small fire.
Kallie’s leg bounced as she watched the flames burn to coals.
"Here," Graeson said, nudging her.
Kallie stared at the scimitar in his hands. "I don’t think we’re going to get attacked right now. If we do, I have my dagger."
"Sharpen it," he said.
At her confused expression, he placed a hand on her thigh. "You’ve been fidgeting since we sat down. It’ll keep your hands busy."
Kallie took the scimitar from him and cocked a brow. "And this is your best idea to get my mind of things?"
Smirking, Graeson leaned closer, the tip of his nose brushing her ear. "Noreen might smack me if she heard my other ideas."
Kallie pulled away. "Noreen?"
Graeson tipped his chin toward the woman cooking. Noreen ripped a knife from the hand of a young man, who was skinning a rabbit, and shoved him with her hip.
"Smack you? She would probably slice you with that knife."
Graeson snorted and handed her a whetstone. With a shaking hand, Kallie took it and began sharpening the blade. After a few swipes, she paused. "Shouldn’t you be staying busy too?"
His gaze dipped over, his eyes burning silver as he took her in. "I enjoy watching you handle my blades."
Kallie laughed. "Don’t let Noreen hear you say that."
When she finished sharpening the first scimitar, Graeson inspected her work, angling it this way and that. With an approving nod, he handed her the other. Kallie beamed at the silent praise.
As more people woke up, the camp slowly stirred to life.
Despite the somber atmosphere and the ash raining down on them, the people threw themselves into various tasks after breakfast. In the civilians’ haste to flee the capital, a good handful had the forethought to bring weapons with them.
The majority had not, though. When a group suggested scavenging for weapons, Graeson and Moris offered their assistance.
Although most wandered in a different direction than Moris, no one denied his help.
Progress was progress, Kallie supposed.
Once they left, Kallie found herself strolling toward the wounded, providing a helping hand wherever she could. While she had little knowledge about medicinal practices, she could run for supplies or hold down an arm as a healer stitched it up.
As Kallie pressed her weight down onto a soldier’s leg to keep it straight while the healer dug out an arrow, someone gagged behind her. Looking over her shoulders, Kallie found Phaia scurrying the other way.
"Do you need anything else here?" Kallie asked once the healer started wrapping the arrow-free wound.
"No," Gerald, the healer, said. "I’m all set here. Thank you."
Kallie nodded. She got up and washed her hands in a bucket of fresh water a teenager had fetched earlier. As she dried off her hands, she searched for anyone else who needed help. But the healers had taken care of most of the injured.
With nothing else to do, she aimlessly walked through the camp, stopping at some groups to chat.
Since she had arrived, she had talked to many of the people in the camp.
But her attention kept going to the children.
There were so many of them, some with families, others without.
A few of the younger children were playing in the woods, wielding branches as makeshift weapons.
They jabbed at each other with wide grins, laughter spilling from their mouths when they tagged their friends.
Some of the older girls were braiding the younger girls’ hair.
An older couple was telling a tale to a small group, the man putting his heart into his performance.
It was only after the man started running around the circle roaring that Kallie realized the story was about a dragon.
These were the people they were fighting for today.
"I told you to stay busy, didn’t I, little mouse?"
Kallie ripped her gaze from the performance and found Graeson leaning against a sequoia tree.
"I was, but then…" She shrugged.
There was only so much any of them could do while they waited for the orders to return to the battle.
Wanting to get as much rest as they could to prepare for the coming battle, many had opted to sleep.
Kallie had debated doing the same, but she knew it would be a lost cause.
She had slept only as well as she did last night because Graeson was with her.
She leaned her back against the tree, and her shoulder brushed Graeson’s arm.
"It puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?" he asked, tipping his head toward the children.
A sad smile ticked at the corner of her mouth.
"Back in Ardentol, I would often sneak away and wander into the village.
It was one of my favorite pastimes. I would go into random stores and taverns just to experience the world through the eyes of the people.
There was one house in particular that had five children who would constantly play outside until nightfall.
It makes me wonder what they are doing now. "
"The council should be stepping up in Domitius' absence," Graeson said.
"The council is full of a bunch of power-hungry lords who can barely see past their own noses. They’re probably champing at the bit to gain his seat."
"Domitius never named you heir?"
Kallie shook her head. "His plan was always for me to marry another king," she said, spotting the very man who she was supposed to marry several yards away talking to Laurince and Myra. "I suppose it makes sense that he didn’t, since I wasn’t actually his blood."
Graeson snorted. "Did he expect to live forever?"
"Knowing him? Probably. Perhaps that was why he had been searching for a way to recreate our powers. Maybe he was looking for a way to become immortal."
"Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case," Graeson mused, folding his arms over his chest. His elbow brushed her shoulder. "Would you go back if you had the chance?"
She peeked up at him, trying to see if there was a particular answer he was looking for. But when she found only curiosity staring back at her, she shrugged. "I don’t know. I guess I haven’t given it that much thought. I care for the people, but I have no claim to the throne."
"Does anyone?"
"One of the lords will surely try."
"This is insane, isn’t it?"
At Kallie’s question, Graeson observed the people anxiously awaiting their orders. A look of scrutiny passed across his countenance.
Once they had realized that reinforcements would not arrive in time, preparations for the battle began.
Phaia had explained earlier that when the previous fight had started, many civilians had fled in terror.
Some had helped guide the young and the elderly to safety before the city was ravaged.
Others had carried the wounded out, refusing to abandon them.
Now, the same people formed a makeshift army.
People who had fled in fear now stood with courage.
Retired soldiers, despite their families’ protests, volunteered to dust off their swords.
Women, who had been barred from the Frenzian military yet fought for their loved ones’ escape, held their chins high.