When he reached the tree line, Evin saw the remnants of Hesiod. The village had transformed into a shadowy ruin of jagged black planks, crumbled stone walls, and soot-stained rubble. Jorick was already climbing through the remains of the razed buildings, barely visible in what little moonlight shone between the clouds.

Evin could feel tears burning at his eyes. But he needed to keep up a brave face, if only to keep Jorick calm. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he followed Jorick into the village.

The rain had been more than heavy enough earlier in the evening to melt the smoldering ash into the dirt. The result was a slick slurry that squished around Evin’s boots as he walked the narrow streets of what had once been his home. He felt empty as he looked at the shells of the buildings, their insides hollowed out by the dog-men’s blaze. He half hoped that he’d find someone hiding in the buildings that weren’t all the way burned down. Maybe Marten had escaped and was waiting to meet up with him.

But the buildings were empty. The monsters had taken every last villager. Aside from the patter of the drizzling rain, the once bustling streets of Hesiod were completely silent.

Evin caught up to Jorick in what used to be the town square. Jorick was staring at the destroyed blacksmith shop that had belonged to his father. His breaths were ragged.

For a long moment, Jorick didn’t say anything. “So, Evin,” he finally whispered. “What do we do first?”

“Well,” Evin whispered back, “before we go after those creatures, we need to be ready. Maybe … maybe some weapons? Real ones, not wooden ones.”

Jorick grunted and headed toward the rubble. Evin ducked beneath a broken beam. The air smelled thick and smoky, and Evin felt almost as if the acrid paste of ash and dirt were coating his throat.

He held the small torch high as they looked around the blacksmith shop’s ruined floor. Metal clanked against metal as their boots hit soot-stained tools that had fallen from their places on the walls and were now scattered into the dirt. It actually seemed that most of the metal instruments were intact—the flames hadn’t had a chance to grow hot enough to melt them before the rain began to fall.

Evin found a short sword hidden beneath the muddy ash, and a pair of daggers nearby. He tucked them all between his belt and his waist. The metal bit into his side. Meanwhile Jorick cursed as he tossed through the rubble, even kicking at the massive anvil that still stood proudly in the corner.

“Hey, I know it’s bad, but we’ll save them,” Evin said. “I know we will.”

“It’s not that. I just need … here!”