On the spongy soil of The Damned, nothing escaped the spilled blood: neither the grass, nor the trees, nor the red whistlers, nor the few other creatures that still remained. Yet every land had its exception, and the exception belonging to The Damned was a sight very few had ever been able to admire. On the Dukes’ lands, it was nothing more than a myth among the people. Only the purebloods of Harshblood who left on expeditions—or those of Vileblood—knew the truth. Or rather, they had reason to believe in the myth.

We had been walking for a long while, lost in our thoughts. Anela had withdrawn into silence and had not looked at anyone since that Nightmare had spoken those words. Fratera and Beret were reflecting on what I had said about the Asmerion. The idea, however appalling it might be to their beliefs, was slowly taking root. Pero had looked thoroughly chastened ever since Anela had so violently called her to order. Although his aggression had surprised me, he had not been wrong. Pero had placed him in danger, even though, judging by the look in his eyes, he had been afraid for her.

It was further proof of the goodness within him. It only made him more irresistible in my eyes. Despite the blood staining his face, just as it stained all of ours, he remained innocent. There was something guileless and gentle in the way he looked at me, and I was constantly shaken by the trust he had placed in me. I was so deeply flattered by it. As a reward for all his efforts—and to wash the tainted blood from his beautiful face—I promised myself that I would find one of those “myths.”

It was only when I recognized our surroundings that I stopped. Consanguines lay scattered across the ground. They were flowers that grew upon The Damned, but only once one had ventured deep enough into its territory. The farther one traveled from the Dukes’ lands, the more consanguines appeared. There were only a few of them here, yet their powerful fragrance drove away the stench of the putrefying corpses. They smelled wonderful. Their perfume was intoxicating, so much so that it became dangerous when breathed in too deeply.

Each flower’s twenty or so petals shone like jewels beneath the few rays of light filtering through the forest. I continued forward, following the flowers for several paces. Behind the trees, the consanguines encircled a small clearing. At its center lay a pool of water, large enough to hold all of us and wash the impurities from our bodies.

When Anela saw what I was suggesting to our little group, his eye twitched. He finally lifted his gaze to mine, as though asking whether I was serious.

“Selene…”

Then he seemed to give in. He let his bag fall to the ground and began to undress. His armor was damaged, and I barely dared imagine the state of his skin beneath it.

“Are we really going to bathe? Do we truly have time for this? And what about the bloodfeasts?” Beret grumbled.

“We need to think about how we are going to proceed. Besides, they already know we are here. Had they wanted to kill us, they would have done so already. A legion would have descended upon us. Let us take an hour. It will give us a chance to rest as well,” Anela suggested.

“As for the bloodfeasts, if there are any nearby, they will not come close. They despise the scent of the consanguines. That is why the deeper we venture, the fewer smaller bloodfeasts we encounter. Consanguines grow in the depths of The Damned, and they become increasingly abundant the closer we draw to them,” I explained.

Anela left his armor on the ground and pulled off his shirt. I could finally see his flesh, bruised blue from the impact. A cold fury swelled within my chest. If that Nightmare ever appeared again… Oh, how I longed to cast him into the deepest abysses of the earth for damaging the flesh that belonged to me.

I removed my own armor, followed by my clothes, and joined Anela in the small pool. The water reached my waist. I waited until Beret and Fratera had joined us before pressing down on both men’s heads, forcing them to lower their gazes.

“There is a lady among us, gentlemen,” I said lightly.

Pero thanked me amid Beret’s cavernous laughter as he tried, in vain, to break free from my grasp. She joined us while remaining slightly apart, the water rising to her shoulders. I rinsed my face, and Anela followed suit.

“Why… Why is the water in this little lake so pure?” Pero asked in surprise.

“The saunes have grown accustomed to drinking the blood of the land rather than its water. It is thanks to their roots that the water remains ‘pure.’ They draw up the blood and feed upon it. The water will not remain impure for very long,” I explained, noticing that our bodies were already dirtying it.

Pero nodded, satisfied. After carefully rinsing himself, Anela wore a melancholy expression. The same expression that revealed he knew where the water had come from.

He cupped his hands and collected a little water before approaching Pero. He raised his hands and poured their contents over her. Then he took her small face between his palms and carefully began to clean it beneath our astonished gazes. Although he had raised his voice at her earlier, he was now tending to her.

He truly was… a mystery.

“They say this water comes from the tears of the dead. Those who died upon The Damned, whose bodies could never be returned to their people or their homeland, wept again and again. Some say their tears soaked into The Damned, and that the saunes, unwilling to disturb the dead, poured those tears back out into cradles. Others say that it is our god Rodel who comes to place the tears within those cradles.”

Anela’s voice was soft. It seemed to contain all the truth of humankind, everything that was kindest and most beautiful within it. He spoke with such compassion that he managed to move me, and I… I was still so deeply unsettled by it.

“The water is salty, like tears.”

Beret tried to drink some, but Anela chuckled and shook his head as he released Pero’s now-clean face.

“It would never occur to you to drink the tears of the dead, would it? Besides, they say those who tried ended up… rather unwell.”

“The water will find its way back out of your body, one way or another,” I added.

Beret let the water spill from his hands, and I stifled a laugh along with the others.

“I am sorry I was so harsh with you, Pero. You must have been afraid as well.”

She nodded sadly, but a smile quickly bloomed upon her lips.

“I was reckless! I promise I will never put anyone in danger again!”

Anela nodded, patted her head, and returned to his original place. His hands disappeared beneath the water as a more serious, somber expression settled over his pretty features.

“We will continue toward Od, whether they know we are coming or not; whether they are waiting for us; whether we have been betrayed. After making it so clear that the monarchs and Od wished to see me, they will not be disappointed. I will not hide while searching for them. I will face them without fear. But the four of you will remain out of sight.”

“You want to throw yourself directly into the wolf’s jaws?” Beret growled. “Anela, that is…”

“If we turn back toward our lands, who knows what dangers might follow us? Vileblood protects every city of Blood, but if our flight leads the enemy there, Vileblood would not be able to withstand a large-scale assault. We have no other choice.”

Anela could not bring himself to look any of us in the eyes. His silence throughout our journey had not been caused by shock after all, but by reflection. He had been turning the matter over and over in his mind, trying to find a way out for us.

“I cannot guarantee that any of you will survive, but I will be the only one to stand before Od. I will attempt to kill him alone. If I fail, you must take whatever provisions you can find while infiltrating their stronghold and leave. It will buy us some time.”

“We… We do not even know what their lair looks like,” Fratera replied, deeply pained by what he was hearing.

Seeing that their morale would not withstand the remainder of the journey, I cut the conversation short.

“We are not there yet. Let us not get ahead of ourselves. We will wait and see when the time comes. Until then, we will protect one another,” I reassured them.

None of them answered.

“What if… What if we prayed? Our God Rodel might grant us the courage we need,” Pero suggested.

“That is a good idea. Anela, why not sing for us?”

At Fratera’s request, Anela agreed. The Dukes and the young Duchess closed their eyes to pray beneath the melody of Anela’s voice. I kept mine open, refusing to miss a single moment of the spectacle he offered me.

I had never heard a voice like his, not even in my own homeland. He still seemed to be restraining it so as not to alert all of The Damned to our presence—as though that had not already happened. Even so, I reveled in his song.

My mind seemed to shed every pain, every fear, and every sorrow. There was no need to pray to God to soothe our hearts or grant us courage. We had His Vicar beside us, and his voice alone was enough.

I surrendered to the sound of it, discovering with surprise that I could have listened to him for hours. Yet I knew it would not last. I did not want his voice to fall silent. Like the red whistlers, I wanted to hear him endlessly.

Hearing Anela’s voice, the birds began to imitate his melody. It was the sound of them that made him open his eyes after several long minutes, searching for a red whistler among the trees. We could always hear them, but rarely did we ever see one.

Instead, his gaze found mine.

His voice wavered slightly, and he gently brought his song to an end. The other Dukes’ prayers ceased with it. I did not know what they understood or what they saw, but Fratera urged—or rather forced—Beret and Pero to climb out, leaving Anela and me alone in a solemn silence.

“Should we join the others?” I suggested.

“Should we?” Anela asked.