“What happened here?” I winced at the sound of my voice. It felt wrong to speak, to shatter the silence of what appeared to be a graveyard of a town.
“The Ascended feared that with its roots as a once prosperous Atlantian city, Pompay would become a haven for Descenters. But they had little reason to believe that,” Casteel said, his voice hushed. “There were Descenters here, only because there had been no sitting Royal to rule the town after the war, but they were mostly mortals—farmers and the like. But no Ascended wanted to rule so far east, so they razed the town to the ground.”
“What of the people who lived here?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.
Casteel didn’t speak because the answer to my question appeared before me as we rounded a bend in the road. It went on for as far as the eye could see, stone mound upon stone mound, lit only by the silvery moonlight. There were hundreds of them, so many that I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing, even though I knew that what I saw was reality. Pompay was a slaughtered town, truly a graveyard.
“They came in the night some forty or so years ago,” Delano said. “An army of Ascended. They swarmed this town like a plague, feeding upon every man, woman, and child. Those who were not killed turned into Craven and spilled out from Pompay in search of blood.”
Gods.
“The ones who died were left behind to rot in the summer heat and to freeze in the winter,” Kieran said. “Their bodies remained where they’d fallen. A lone person by a tree, dozens in the street.” He cleared his throat. “Couples found in their beds. Entire families in their homes, mothers and fathers clutching their children to them.”
“We buried them,” Casteel told me. “It took some time, but we buried all that remained. Six hundred and fifty-six of them.”
Good gods.
I closed my eyes against the tide of sorrow and shock that flooded me, but I could not unsee the piles and piles of stones of so many senseless deaths.
Casteel’s exhale was rough. “So now you know why the Ascended don’t often travel this far.”
I did know.
I saw.
“I…I don’t know how I’m shocked,” I admitted. “After everything I’ve seen, I don’t understand how I can’t believe this.”
Casteel’s arm tightened around me, but it was Naill who spoke, echoing what the Prince had said earlier. “I don’t think this is something you can ever get used to. At least, I wouldn’t want to. I want to be shocked. I need to be,” the dark-skinned Atlantian told me. “If not, then the line that separates us from the vamprys would be much too thin.”
Chapter 22
We rode on in silence, passing the endless mounds of stones and the ruins of homes and businesses. We stopped just outside the city on the coast of the Bay.
I found little sleep that night, seeing the stone graveyard every time I closed my eyes. Surprisingly, when I did rest, there were no nightmares. When we left at dawn the following morning, I knew the haunting ruins of the city would stay with me for the rest of my life. And as we traveled along Stygian Bay, I feared what awaited us in Spessa’s End.
With the sun beginning its steady climb, glittering off the midnight Bay, the cloaks and gloves became unnecessary. However, with each burnt-out building or dilapidated farm we passed, I was chilled all over again.
When Casteel caught me staring at some toppled marble columns among the reddish reeds, he asked, “You didn’t expect this, did you?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know it was like this. Actually, I didn’t know much about Pompay or Spessa’s End, but I never thought this was the case. I believed the towns still existed. So did Vikter. He talked about wanting to visit the Bay.”
“So few travel this far out that there is little risk of the people of Solis ever discovering what was done to the towns or the people.”
“And there’s little risk of them discovering what has been rebuilt,” Delano added.
Eventually, the day gave way to night, and cooler air was ushered back in. The empty fields were replaced by a heavily wooded area that bordered the fields we rode near. I was beginning to wonder if Spessa’s End even existed or where we’d be staying when we reached the other side of the black Bay when I heard the soft, lilting call of a songbird.
Casteel shifted behind me, lifting his head. He mimicked the cry with one of his own. I started to turn to him in surprise when the call was returned. It wasn’t songbirds. They were signals. The moment I realized that, I finally saw the signs of a city.