The first thing Cara saw was a line of bodies from the hill the keep stood on. She had been trying to get Sasi and Culin to talk to her. They had run from her as if she were a monster. Now—she heard the panicked horn calls, saw the [Riders] racing towards the gates. Outside, people abandoned the digging, fled inside.

The undead marched from the direction of Violetta’s village. First a line of them, appearing out of the trees, marching over hills. Hundreds.

Then thousands. Cara saw huge, lumbering shapes among them. Crypt Lords. Faster Ghouls. Skeletons.

Draug.

But as Duchess Grishen had said—few of them. Only a dozen Draug. And there were less than three thousand undead. Cara nearly breathed a sigh of relief at that.

Until the horns blew again. And the second army marched from the north. From Qet’s direction. And a third…fourth…

They surrounded Afiele’s town and keep. So many undead. Just…walking at the town. Climbing into the moat, trying to form towers of bodies to climb over the walls. Zombies by the hundreds and thousands.

Skeletons, waving weapons.

Ghouls, leaping—but the living had the walls. They could knock the undead back with spears, drop stones, burning oil on them. Blast them apart with spells in the case of the three [Mages]. The undead just milled about, stupid, while the Draug and Crypt Lords held back.

Three people died the first day when a Ghoul group got a foothold on one part of the walls. The people of Afiele slew hundreds of zombies and skeletons. The terror faded and people felt hopeful. Cara hauled linen, learned to wash the old-fashioned way, one among many. And ostracized at that.

Help was coming. The next day, after a night of the same, the people of Afiele woke up and heard that the promised help from Ovela had arrived. The Earl of Ovela had led a small army against the undead.

And retreated. The Tomb of Afiele had more undead than anyone knew. By the end of the second day an army of six thousand milled about Afiele’s walls. Three times that number were holding the road north against reinforcements. The next day—their numbers had swelled again.

The siege had begun.

——

He remembered smiling.

“Feremont. Feren.”

The man looked up from reading a spellbook. He raised his brows idly.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing, sitting there? Pisces is teaching us dances from court. Esche’s even trying to make one of the skeletons copy them!”

The man decided to lower one brow, but kept the other expressively raised.

“A dancing skeleton. Why?”