Page 21 of Little Mate
“Then prove it.”
Augusto stops his horse just past the entrance of the Salicio territory near our home in Foresta di Ferràina. The place is so quiet, and if it weren’t for the royal guards watching the entrance, I’d think the town is deserted. Their heads bow as we pass, swords lowering, but the sheer hurt and anger radiating off their skin is near suffocating.
Something isn’t right here. More so than the deceased—the headless bodies drained of all blood that litter the ground. They drank from or let them bleed out from wounds, but the nagging in my gut tells me that there’s more to this massacre and I might not be ready to accept it either.
My eyes shift around, taking in the two male warlocks moving their hands in a circular pattern, their lips moving as they sing an incantation. I can just make out the words on their lips, the repeated request that this land is protected and cleansed.
The latter surprises me.
How could this have happened? The scene is out of the norm from the vibrant and happy people whose bloodlines have lived here for over a century, and yet, it doesn’t take long to understand why.
Bodies. So many bodies are littering the vast land no matter where we look.
More than the original number given to us in the report.
In front of houses. Tossed against trees. A small pile to the left of where my horse neighs.
A river of dried red dirt shows the path of destruction left behind by the fucking leeches hunting me and my siblings down. How could our people team up with them and do this? This carnage is despicable. Unforgivable.
My heart breaks all over again.
Dismounting my horse, I ignore Augusto’s low curse and walk toward a house I’m familiar with. This is the elder’s home; he and his wife live here along with two children they adopted who are no older than ten and who’ve become their sole pride and joy. Their only daughter died a few years ago, nearly killing them.
I studied with her and taught her how to tether a spirit in case I ever needed help.
I trust her and pray that her family is still alive. They’re not. I’m almost certain.
“Let me go in first, Miss Gabriella.” My head turns toward Augusto, and I wave him forward, clutching onto Isa’s hand who now stands beside me. We rode straight through without pause, my father’s blessed horses going full throttle from Naples toward our beloved lands so we could reach this town. “Please keep behind me, and if we find anyone alive—”
“You will, but not here.” A sharp pang hits me straight in the chest at my sister’s statement. “I’ve seen it.”
“Of course, Miss Isabella. Do you know where we should start?”
At his question, my sister’s eyes close and she inhales deeply and then exhales. Then again. We stay like that for a short while as she centers herself, but when her blue orbs snap open with a glazed-over appearance, I know she’s lost in a vision.
They come to her like that. While my father had to touch you, physically be in your presence to see into your life’s path, Isabella has the ability to concentrate on what she needs to see. There are also the times when the gift of sight comes at the most random times, slamming into her mind and showing her the inevitable.
“You can’t change fate.” Her voice is low, and yet I hear her loud and clear. “We can’t challenge it either.”
Ignoring her warning, I clear my throat. “Sister, what do you see?”
“The center of the village is where we’ll find answers.” A bit vague, but we follow, careful as to not step on anyone in the path. Two other royal guards fall into step behind us, but it’s their low muttering that catches my attention.
“Something you need to say?”
The older of the two steps beside me, his head inclined in my direction. “Princess, we’ve searched the entire place, house by house, and found nothing.” He’s not being disrespectful in his doubt, but most only see what’s in front of them. If Isa found something, it’ll be where she’s leading us.
“Do you not trust her? Us?”
“Yes.” No doubt or hesitation. Good. “With our lives.”
“Then please continue to do so.”
“Yes, Princess.”
The man retakes his stance a few steps behind me, the guard to his left also quiet now as we traverse the main street toward the center of this village. We ignore the death all around us for now; the bodies can’t be moved until I release their souls to the underworld, but the men here today know that a funeral procession must begin immediately after.
The closer we get to our destination, my skin begins to prickle with awareness, though.