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.Some of them, sadly, were short and slight, after all.He kept cutting and slashing, trying to destroy the taint of the plague, driving forward, clearing a swath through the undead as tears rolled down his cheeks.He didn't even let up when his blade sliced through the white and blue of a soldier he once knew.What seemed like a long time later, exhausted, Vambran Matrell could find no more zombies to destroy.All around him, the tattered and broken remains of undead lay sprawled on the blood-slick cobblestones.None moved.Somewhere along the way, the magical light of his flare had vanished, and he had continued to battle by the light of Selune's sliver.The night was unnaturally still.The mercenary let his blade drop then felt the overwhelming weariness in his arms, his legs, and his broken heart.He almost sat down right there, in the middle of the street.He didn't want to look at the bodies.If he looked at the bodies, he would see people—merchants, midwives, and children who were both horrific and all-too-human and fragile at the same time.So he stared at nothing for a while.Stared and panted and felt nothing but numbness.Finally, Vambran remembered that he was not alone.Two people, alive, had been with him.He looked around.Arbeenok was near the garden wall where they had started fighting.He watched the mercenary—a grim look was fixed on the alaghi's face.Elenthia was beside the druid, kneeling, her arms folded and resting across her raised knee.She also watched him, her eyes wide, staring.She seemed aghast.The lieutenant began to walk toward the pair, and he thought Elenthia recoiled the tiniest bit.He held up his hand to show her that he was all right, and what he saw nearly made him stumble.He halted in mid step.The mercenary's entire arm was sheathed in thick, black blood.Vambran stared down and saw that he was drenched in gore from head to foot.The realizationchilled him despite the warm, humid evening.Blood clung to him and ran in rivulets down his arms.It was matted in his hair.Somewhere, he knew, the blood of his soldiers was mingled in that mess."Water," Vambran said, filled with the urge to wash it away."I need water," he repeated.He came closer, his arms spread out, unable to abide touching the slick wetness all over himself.Elenthia said nothing, merely stared.But Arbeenok nodded."On the other side of this wall," the alaghi said, "1 can hear water running.Let's find a way inside."Vambran nodded and stumbled after the druid.Elenthia rose and followed the two of them, but she kept her distance from the mercenary.Vambran glanced over at Elenthia once and caught her staring at him.In her eyes he saw sorrow and repulsion."It will wash away," he told her.He wondered if he meant it for himself, too."You—" she said, faltering."I watched you—" Elenthia shook her head, unable to continue.She sped ahead, running to catch up to Arbeenok.Vambran started to call to her, but he understood that words could not undo what he had become in her eyes.He recognized that haunted look all too well.The druid led them to the side of the garden wall and discovered a gate set into it near the corner.It was locked, but the alaghi threw his shoulder into it a couple of times and broke through.Beyond the portal, the garden was filled with thick, flowering vines and meandering paths.Lush greenery rustled in the gentle sea breezes, blending the scent of their blossoms, and the trickle of running water came from near the middle of the enclosure.Arbeenok pushed through the dripping foliage and headed in thatdirection.Elenthia followed right behind the druid, leaving Vambran to bring up the rear.When Vambran caught up to his two companions, he found them standing very still.They were at the edge of an open courtyard partially lit by a few lanterns hanging from poles around the perimeter.A fountain had once stood in the midst of the tiny plaza, a sculpture of a deific being bearing a shield and a horn and posing regally.But it was knocked over, and water flowed out of its basin and spilled onto the paving stones
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