The western watchtower crouched over Blackmere's main approach, its crumbling stone cool beneath Jace's palms. From here, the moonlight washed the road silver, every shadow stretching long over the empty ground. He and Zara kept low, their weapons close, breath misting in the chill as the night settled over the quiet town.
"I've seen battlefields before," Zara said, voice low but steady, eyes fixed on the darkened approaches. "But this… this is different. Not just killing—cruelty. It's like someone wanted them to break before they died."
Jace's jaw worked. "It's meant to make them give up on living, but still not stop hoping."
Her gaze flicked toward him. "You sound like you've studied it."
"Maybe I'm starting to." He let the corner of his mouth lift. "Though, being stuck here with you makes it a little easier not to think about it."
Her lips curved briefly. "You're strange, Wart. One moment I've got you figured out, then…" She shook her head, searching.
"Then what?"
"Then you remind me I've barely scratched the surface."
The silence that followed was heavy—until a scream split it clean in two.
It came from deeper inside the village, sharp and panicked, and close enough that Jace felt it in his ribs.
"That was from the medics' station," Zara said, already rising. "I've been watching the road. No one came through."
"Same here." His grip tightened on his weapon.
They didn't waste another word. Boots pounded against packed dirt as they sprinted toward the noise, the sound of more shouting and the clash of metal chasing them through the narrow lanes.
Tor and Elliot appeared from another street, both armed and moving fast.
"Why did you leave your post?" Elliot demanded as they ran.
"Same as you," Jace shot back.
"What if this is a diversion?" Elliot pressed. "We should have held the line and sent one pair."
"If everyone waited for someone else to go, no one would've moved," Jace said, not slowing. "We deal with what's in front of us first, then worry about what might be coming next."
They rounded the final corner and stopped cold.
The survivors they'd guarded earlier now twisted and lunged like something torn out of a nightmare. Bodies stretched unnaturally, joints bending wrong, mouths split wide with rows of jagged teeth. Hands had become hooked claws, and their faces were little more than masks of hunger.
For a breath too long, no one moved. Jace's mind caught on the memory of smiles, thanks, the quiet gratitude of people alive after horror and now this.
Dren broke the freeze, sweeping in from the flank, his sword cutting one down in a single, fluid strike. He shouted, "Don't just stand there! Move!"
The spell broke. Jace forced his legs to obey, forcing down the part of him that still saw people where there were only monsters now.
Jace found himself facing a creature that had once been a young woman—perhaps someone's daughter or sister. The transformation had made her nearly unrecognizable, but something her eyes begged him to end her quickly.
His hesitation nearly cost him his life as her claws raked across his shoulder, but his reflexes kicked in, allowing him to put her down with a clean thrust that ended her suffering quickly.
By the time the last creature hit the ground, the night was still again—except for the groans of the wounded. Two medics and several soldiers died in the earlier assault.
Dren scanned the scene with a faintly pleased expression. "All right, that's done. Let's check if any villagers are hurt."
Kael stared at him. "Your stupidity dumbfounds me."
"What?" Dren frowned.
"I thought you understood when you started cutting them down," Tor said, voice heavy.
Jace didn't bother softening his tone. "Maybe think before you act next time."
"What situation?!" Dren demanded.
Elliot's reply was quiet but unflinching. "They were the villagers, Dren. We just killed the people we came to save."
The words landed like a physical blow. Dren's sword clanged against the ground as he sank to his knees, staring wide-eyed at the bodies.
"Over here," Zara called.
They left Dren to his shock and gathered around her.
Zara crouched beside one of the dead, pulling back tangled hair to reveal a puckered mark behind the ear—scar tissue shaped like intertwined horns.
"I've found the same mark on every one I've checked," she said.
Tor moved through the fallen, confirming it. "All of them."
Someone had done this on purpose. Turned survivors into weapons.
Zara's face paled as another thought hit her. "If Marcus has this mark… and he's in the palace…" She met their eyes. "Everyone there could be in danger."
Her thoughts flashed briefly to Lila.
"We should leave now," She urged.
"It's a day's travel," Kael said evenly. "If they were in danger, it's already happened. Besides, the palace has mages."
Jace scanned the bodies, the cooling air thick with the scent of blood and something sharp and wrong.
"I don't know much about transformations," he said slowly, "but I think we should burn these bodies before we leave. We don't know if they'll change again—or if this spreads."
Tor gave a single nod. "He's right. Get the soldiers to help. We light it tonight and move at first light."