As expected, the steady decline in northern traders continues. Two more years and the inn will be but a hall for festivities. Gerald is gaining summers quickly; he won't mind either.

Billy stayed put, turning his head towards her and Nick. There was a certain sorrow in those amber eyes of his, and uncertainty too, like he was waiting for their approval to leave.

"It's alright, Billy," she said with a nod.

The bridle rattled as he snorted, shaking his head. Nick stroked him on the neck, whispering so quietly that Alex had no idea what secret they were sharing this time. Billy belonged to the children of Laneby—a gift from Master Frederic when Billy became too old to work on the field—but after all those years Nick still had a special bond with him.

As Nick gave him a pat, Billy charged at such a speed that embers flew upwards in every direction, causing coals to turn into flames mid-air before they whirled back to the ground.

She turned away, pulling Fox along with her. He was holding his hands over his fire-damaged face to protect himself. The skin on his arms was now the same colour as his hair: black as coal.

"It's not me," he squeaked, his muscles tightening against her. "I don't know what's wrong with this fire. It's acting all strange."

"Don't worry." Her trembling lips almost threatened to say 'Ben'. He and Fox were roughly the same height and now their hair was the same too. A tear rolled down her cheek. Since she would never be able to hug her little brother again, she held on tight to Fox.

Seb was steering Billy towards the shallow part of the river, where she always used to wash her family's clothes. Deciding to let him take Abby had been selfish. She would never forgive herself if she had sent both of them to their deaths.

What would Lord Brandon think of her now? Not too long ago, when they had been riding to Doe Hill to check on the deer population, he had told her that certain decisions, however small, can have consequences so big that they will change the course of history. Making choices fueled by the emotions of the moment were nearly always the wrong ones.

It was only now that she understood what cryptic nonsense he had been rambling about. She was easily the fastest rider of the four of them—even Lord Brandon had said so himself. But those merchants with their slit tongues who passed Laneby on their way from and to the capital had made her dread what was out there for her.

Whenever they were standing outside the tavern with a pint of ale in their hands, there was always one that began yapping about the abomination that she was. A girl hunting with a bow and arrows—that was absurd. Girls should not be trained like men; they were only good for mothering and being obedient little housewives.

If that was what the Sundalers believed, she never wanted to meet another one. Especially not the King, even though he should be wiser than all of his citizens combined.

She felt a prod in her ribs. The culprit was Nick, his forehead twisted into a scowl. "We need to leave. Now. We're too much out in the open here, and it's a long way to Sundale."

"Leaving... yes."

Though she was standing in the ashes of the trees that had always proudly guarded the village, the first step was too hard. Bile rose at the back of her throat. She knew the Forest of Lane like the plains and valleys of her own face, yet the world beyond the forest was uncharted territory.

"But Nick, I don't want to leave. Not yet anyway," Fox snivelled.

"We have to." Alex lifted her foot, showing him the holes in the sole of her shoe. "I don't want to either, but we can't stay. There's nothing to keep us here."

Nick was already marching towards the river. "Come on then, before the ashes burn through all of our shoes."

"No, we can't!" Fox stomped his foot against the ground, instantly causing a burst of flame to shoot from beneath his boot.

"Stop messing with the fire, freak." She grabbed him by the shirt but regretted her harsh reaction when his watery green eyes sought her.

"I just want to find my mother, Alex. She's alive. She must be."

She sunk into his embrace again. Charlie and Ben had been lying in the riverbank, a giant black hole covering their backs. And Mother... all Alex had found was her jade pearl underneath a piece of burning bone that lay in the ruins of that what had once been her home.

Perhaps by some miracle, she had lost her bracelet while running away from the terror and was now heading towards the capital as well. But Alex had to face the inevitable. Like many of the older houses in Laneby, their house had consisted of wood and straw.

Hopefully, by the grace of the Gods, Mother's death had been a quick and painless one. Charlie and Ben didn't look like they had suffered much. Or so she hoped.

A single tear landed on Fox's shoulder, quickly followed by more. Never again would she hear Mother's singing as she cooked, never see Ben mimicking her every movement, or feel little Charlie's wet lips on her cheek as he kissed her goodnight.

Fox patted her on the shoulder. "Don't cry, Alex. I'm sure your mother is heading for Sundale too, together with my parents and Seb's, and Nick's."

"Yeah, let's not lose faith." She brushed the tears from her face. Although she wanted to kick herself in the head for lying to him, she couldn't bear to say anything else. The shock would be too big for him.

"We need to go. Come on," Nick hissed.

"W-wait," Fox stammered. "I know we should, but Father, he... there is something we should take with us. You'll see."

He slithered out of her grip and scurried off, each of his steps unleashing a new wave of fire and smoke. Alex bolted after him without a moment's hesitation. Fox may be a muttonhead, but there was no way she would leave him behind.

"Muttonhead." Nick let out a massive sigh. "Alex, hang on. I'm coming too."

She waited for him to catch up, then followed the paths she had always taken. Though the ashes had covered them all, it was a habit that was hard to kill. The barn, the stable, the town hall and the inn; it was like they were still there, ghost-buildings unwilling to succumb to their new state.

Fox just rushed right through them, heading straight for his father's forge—the only reminder that Laneby had been inhabited by people. Most of the stones had crumbled off and lay half-buried in the embers, but the iron inner layer was still intact.

He took four large strides, starting at the forge, then crouched down and began digging. Ashes and sand flew in every direction, even on her legs and Nick's trousers.

She brushed a cinder off her kneecap. "Ouch, be careful. What are you doing?"

"I overheard Father telling Mother that he hid weapons here. He was worried that something might happen so he dug a hidden cellar."

"We could use the supplies. I will keep you safe." Alex grabbed her bow and arrow, ready to fire if she must. Around them, far and wide, there was nothing but the desolate stillness of death. Without the protection of the sand dune that separated Laneby from the river, they were too much out in the open.

"There it is." Fox's nails scraped over the iron plate. "Found it."

Nick kneeled next to him, helping him to dig it out further so it could be shoved aside. He pulled out three dozen arrows and a dozen more swords, all in pristine condition.

"Good old grumpy Master Harald." She took at least fourteen arrows to fill her quiver and fastened the smallest sword to her belt. "Your father did an amazing job, Fox."

"For once he did." A hiccup-like snort accompanied his tears, which he wiped away with his dirty hands.

"Can we finally go now?" Nick gawked at his sword, as though he had never held one before. "The quicker we leave, the earlier I can see Abby again."

Before Alex could answer that she was ready, a thumping sound thundered behind them. She spun her head towards the noise, finding three riders clad in black in the distance, but approaching fast. "Quick, behind the forge. Don't make a sound."

The boys obeyed without a moment's hesitation. Her chest heaved, trying to suppress her panting breaths. She had to keep her focus; not let her hands tremble at the grip of her bow. Shooting now would be a matter of life and death.

The horse's hooves came closer, accompanied by the voice of the God of Wrath reincarnated. "You did a fine job, Katla. There's nothing left of this place. His Majesty will be pleased."

She tapped Nick on the shoulder and whispered, "King Thomas?"

"No, King Ariel," he mouthed. "Their uniform. Silver arrow."

Her jaw dropped. A silver arrow could only mean Silvermark, but Laneby didn't mean anything to their own King; let alone a foreign one. What would the northern King gain from attacking a town as small as theirs?

"Always the quick one to judge, Phoe. How do we know that Brandon and his brat are dead?" The other man's voice was husky and low; almost monotonous. "Ari sent us here to make sure you don't disappoint him. My cousin is not the type to easily forgive a mistake."

Alex's stomach turned around, releasing more bile at the back of her throat. Laneby had been attacked to kill Seb and Lord Brandon. What had they ever done to King Ariel to deserve a fate this cruel?

"They were killed in their homes. And if not, I killed each and every peasant that ran into the river. A simple bolt to their backs." The third person spoke with a slight lisp, betraying the same Jade-Islandic accent as her father had borne. She wanted to vomit. "Care to view the bodies, Leo? They are dead."

Her chest ripped wide open, Wrath taking the place where once Kindness had lived. Any last hope that she had was gone. Her legs itched to get up and shoot three quick arrows through their despicable hearts.

She wasn't alone with this thought. Fox sprinted from behind their hiding place, keeping his new sword locked into his hand. "Monsters! I will kill you." His voice shrill and more high-pitched than usual.

Oh Gods. Why was he always more afraid of his own imagination than actual danger?

She ran behind him, hoping to save him from his own foolishness. If she fired now, the bulky warrior with long blond hair would surely fall. In the chaos, she'd grab two more arrows to kill his comrades that were riding next to him. She would never weep for them. Their corpses could rot until there was nothing left but bones and the arrow that had pierced them.

The men came closer every second, yet she did not shoot. Violence only leads to more violence—that's what Lord Brandon had told her not even a day ago.

The black-haired man with a skin tone darker than the other two raised his hand, shooting an emerald ball of fire into their direction. She ducked into the ashes to avoid it.

She should have shot them. Now it was too late.

Fox, however, jumped up to slam his sword against the fire, causing the flames to break down into harmless embers. "Is that all you can do?" he roared. "I can play with fire too. I'm not afraid of you!"

The magician's hair bore white streaks; it had changed colour just like Fox's. His tricks in the forest, with the ashes, and now the sword. There was only one explanation.

"You're not... a Fire Master," she stammered. "You're... you're a magician."

"No, it's the sword," he said under his breath as he charged at the beardless man with curly brown hair who was galloping towards him at full speed.

The magician raised his hand again. An invisible body of wind forced the sword out of Fox's hands and bound him to the ground. With thrashing arms and legs, the boy writhed to break free from his constraints. He groaned and moaned until his body gave up and he fell head-first into the ashes.

"Fox, keep on fighting," she yelled with all the strength she had. But the magician fired another wind bolt which pushed her to the ground, unable to move a muscle. "No, release me. I don't want to die."

"Well... well... Katla, looks like you did not kill all the Lanebyers." The bulky blonde man grinned, unsheathing his broadsword. "Shall I prove myself useful and finish what you started?"

"No, I want the boy." The magician made no effort to get off his spotted grey mare. "The Greenlands is no place for a child magician. I'm sure I can convince the King he'll be of good use one day."

"Alex!" Fox called out, his high-pitched voice sending shivers down her spine. "Please don't let them take me."

She squirmed, hoping to reach her bow so she could kill them after all, but only felt the magician's grip on her tightening. With every breath she took, he was squeezing her more. There was nothing she could do to save him.

"Ari won't like it," the blond brute said without any emotion.

"Let it be my problem then, Leo."

"Have it your way." Leo scooped Fox up with one arm, using the other to bind his legs together. 

Fox still floundered about, kicking the man in the face. "Alex, save me. Please!"

"And what about his girlfriend?" the younger man asked, peering at her with a sneering smile.

"Good question. What shall I do with her?" The magician rubbed his hand over his goatee beard, his brown eyes piercing through marrow and bone. He was Ben and Charlie's killer. He had let Mother die in her own home, trapped in the flames that he had conjured. "With little A-lex."

She should have stayed behind the forge to shoot arrows from there. It would have been so much easier to kill the Silvermarkers without them realising what was happening to them. The ultimate revenge.

Too late.

The magician snapped his fingers, her body floating in the air, towards him. She had never been more helpless in her life. "Tell me, is there anyone else here but you and the boy?"

"No." 

If this was how she would die, then the Gods would have to spare Nick's life. He had to tell everyone what had happened here so the King would send his army north to avenge them. Violence may lead to more violence, but these beasts deserved the fate that was waiting for them.

"Very well." He dropped her to the ground. "I take it you know the way to Sundale. To your precious King."

"Yes." She scampered up on her knees with all the willpower that was left in her. It was another lie, but one that the Gods would surely forgive her for.

Fox was still crying raucously as the two men violently bound him to a horse. "No! Don't take me. I don't wanna go north. Mother... Alex, where are you?"

She let out a gasp as the magician grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to meet his demon eyes. He had finally gotten off his mare, the rotten stink of his breath hitting her right in the face. "Listen carefully, girl. When you get to Sundale, tell your King that Laneby has fallen and that King Ariel is coming to claim his throne. It's nothing personal. Half-Ear Tom will know what it's about."

The moment he released her, she began running. Past the forge, through the ghost-buildings, and onto the hill.

Fox's devastating plea for help only grew worse. "Come back, don't leave me here! Whatever you are thinking, I'm not a magician. Please, they are wrong, and I need you, Alex!"

She closed her eyes, praying that he would not call out for Nick. If the Silvermarkers found him, they wouldn't show mercy a second time.

Fox continued calling out to her. Three times. Half-way through the fourth time came only silence.