Page 14 of The Reaping Rose

Chapter 5

Callum

Villagers hurry to gather what they can as the storm begins to peak. They bustle in and out of their homes, panicking. While I stand outside and listen to the gale.

Senses alert.

I’ve been told wind is unsettling. It howls, rages, and tears the realm apart. As an air wielder, I’ve only ever found comfort in the secrets carried on the breeze.

The corner of my mouth ticks up as I listen to the strum of whispers. The wisdom of the realm. If only others could hear all that is carried on the wind, they would realize that destruction is not why they should fear it; it’s what else it spreads.

Even now, when my magic is burrowed deep, I sense a warning. A darkness cast in shadows through the gust, as if something out there is trying to share a secret with me. Twisted among the visions of death are dark, shadowy tendrils. Singing with a single message.

My eyes fly open as I shove it away.

“Get inside.” I direct the villagers who have gathered by a carriage to grab the remaining food stores. “We don’t have time.”

Thomas doesn’t slow as he grabs another basket. Sweat has his honey-brown hair slicked back after a long day gathering food in the forest. Dirt dusts his skin.

He knocks my shoulder as he walks past. “We’ll starve without it. Not all of us are Fae like you and impossible to kill.”

Bitterness sours his tone, a constant reminder that I am not one of them, and they hate me for it.

“You’ll die with or without the food if you don’t get inside,” I warn him, and he stops where he stands at the doorway.

Resentment toward Fae is not new to the village, but the condition of the island in recent weeks has bred more. The remaining villagers eye me and Greer with disdain. Either for what we are or the Crown we used to serve.

Elorie has Fae blood as well, but they see her as one of them. They listen to her.

Me, they watch from the corner of their eye like they expect me to join the rest of the Guard who climbed on a boat and abandoned them here. Little do they know those guards never made it to the opposite shore, and I don’t bother telling them because they wouldn’t believe me or care. I wasn’t part of that group, but they resent me, nonetheless.

“I’ll get the rest of the food inside,” I tell Thomas.

His teeth work like he wants to argue, and while he can’t bring himself to respond, he offers a single nod before disappearing into the house.

I quickly get to work, carrying the remaining food from the carriage into the pantry. With each pass, my eyes fix on the gate that hangs open, leading to the forest surrounding the village. Elorie and Greer aren’t back yet. Not as the air chills and the clouds thicken. So I stretch my senses to the edges of the island, searching for signs of them. But it’s all drowned out by the choppy waves slapping against the shore.

Once the food is inside, I leave Thomas and his sister to inventory what we managed to save and return to Letia’s house.

She’s upstairs, pacing back and forth like she often is. I strip off my Guard armor and set it neatly on the chair by the door. The silver plates are splattered with dirt and water spots, so I’ll spend time polishing it tonight.

Greer keeps asking why I bother wearing it when we don’t even know if there is a Guard left. And if there is, why would I bother defending a king who turned on his own people? Those aren’t answers I can give her because her grief and anger are a wall that prevents her from understanding. But this small routine is all I have left.

I rub the heel of my hand over the dirty pauldron; hints of my reflection stare back. I don’t wear this for the king. Malachi is a godsforsaken bastard hiding in his sister’s shadows, and he lost my loyalty when he betrayed his kingdom.

No, I don’t wear this for him.

I wear it as a reminder of a mission I once believed in. As a reminder of the male I once was. One with honor. One who stood for something.

What do I stand for now?

“Where are Elorie and Greer?” Letia jolts me from my thoughts, and I set my armor down.

I loosen the ties on my tunic so I can breathe a little easier. “Dorn and Isra didn’t come back from gathering berries. They went to search for them.”

Her eyes widen.

“Don’t worry, Dorn and Isra are back now.” I leave out the part where he was carrying his nearly dead wife in his arms when they returned.