As we near my childhood home, my heart seizes in my throat. Gone are the fields of poppies, the lazy seas of lavender. In the silvery moonlight, the world seems bleached of color. Corsa's lovingly tended garden has been trampled beneath militant feet. Windows are broken and boarded.

The once neat rock path, placed painstakingly by the passed Avi, and hand painted decades later by the twins (who had declared it "too plain"), has been upset. Colored rocks, depicting smeared caricatures of bugs and fairies, are strewn across the font lawn. Though it would be generous to even call it a lawn any more.

Grass has been yanked out by the roots, and I worry that someone has, at one point, resorted to eating it. The front door sways, lop-sided, on creaking hinges. I see my hand reach out to touch it. I'd like to claim that I am in control, but I am utterly detached. My mind can only cling to the desperate hope that this is a nightmare. My feet move forward of their own accord, even as my consciousness recoils.

The floor is bare, devoid of rugs or comforts, and our the shuffling of our feet echoes off of the empty walls. I hardly recognize the place. Remnants of paintings and broken-down furniture lay, charred, in the fireplace. I can see where the twins, in attempt to lighten the atmosphere, scrawled bright drawings on the otherwise white walls, but even these have fallen into decay.

I sweep my gaze over the desolation, and tears spring to my eyes. How much have they suffered while I convinced myself, for my own conscience, that they were safe? Mab puts an arm around me and weeps openly for the loss.

The effect it has on my fellows is undeniable. All crowd around me, offering their somber condolences, but my chest is in knots, and I cannot summon the words. My thoughts had been with them often in the months and miles between us, but I had never imagined this. I simply couldn't have.

"Kal?" The sound is so soft and rasping, that I think I must have imagined it. It may well be a ghost haunting these halls. Haunting me. And I would deserve it. For every happy moment I've enjoyed while they wasted away here.

"Kal?" It is stronger this time, and I look toward it. "What are you doing here?" There is more fear, reprimand, in the tone than relief. "What are all of you doing here??"

I lose myself at the sight of her. The question does not even register. I rush to embrace Corsa and nearly lift her off of her feet. She groans in my ear, and I set her back on the floor. My joy is short-lived. Ragged clothes hang from her skeletal frame. I take her in in horror. She cannot miss my gaping expression, but she is undeterred.

"You have to get out of here. All of you. You can't let him find you."

"No," I tell her simply. It is the first time I can recall defying her. "We are not going anywhere. We have to fix this." She seems to take in the sword at my hip, how our muscles have grown long and lean. Köv's wolf. Agan's bow. Hope fills her hollow eyes, then she shakes her head.

"It's not enough. I've tried. The wolves have pledged loyalty. The Incarnates are gone. Our people are weak. And tired." She sighs. "So tired. You can't face him. I won't let you. You have to leave."

"I won't leave you again." The fight goes out of her, and she collapses into a rickety stool. Tabby pads into view and hops delicately into Corsa's wasting lap. Tears fall as she strokes the cat's striped fur.

"You brought her back," Corsa whispers as the feline purrs. Content, somehow, in spite of everything.

"We're all back," I tell her. "And we are going to fix this."

Corsa has no tea, but boils water for us. We congregate on the floor without enough seating to accommodate the lot of us and plan our next move.

"Where did you get water?" I wonder as I sip at the earthy brew.

"I dug us a well." Corsa jerks her head over one shoulder. "Out back. In the shed. Dager never found out about it, or he would have tried to control it, but it provides enough for me and the twins... and some of our neighbors."

"Enos...?" I ask, hardly daring. Corsa merely shakes her head, lip trembling, and I feel the sorrow wash over me. My companions allow me to absorb this, before Köv clears his throat.

"Are there others who would join us?"

Corsa nods, thoughtfully at first, then more sure.

"Some... but not many. They are afraid of him. And they have been stripped of everything."

"It's no matter," Mab dismisses. "Any help is a start. Do you think we would be supported?"

"I am certain of it. Even those loyal to Dager do not love him. He has been cruel... and selfish. He has no true allies."

By morning, we have reached a conclusion. Sight of the twins, toddling from their bedroom, is the most beautiful thing I have seen in weeks. I embrace them both as they cast Corsa questioning glances.

Though they, too, have lost weight, it is clear that Corsa has born the brunt of their deprivation. My heart breaks for her. For all of them. I have to make this right.

We sleep in my room, Mab and Ohna claiming the bed while the rest of us huddle together on the floor. Corsa, renewed by the life around her, busies herself tidying what is left of the house. We wake to a meal of... I don't dare to ask what. We supplement this feast with supplies of our own, and I take no small measure of happiness in watching Corsa and the twins eat their fill.

Corsa has not survived in this wasteland without making connections. Though Dager has driven and divided the people, he has been unable to squash all feelings of kinship. Neighbors, who had been close with Enos, still stop by to offer their respects and a share of their meager rations. She has convinced one of them, with connections to the wolves, to arrange for a meeting with Dager. Mab still has faith that she can convince him, though the rest of us are less hopeful.

Anger flares in me as I look at what is left of this town. Part of me would be happy to see it burned to the ground. Just return with Wart and be done with it. Ohna insists on more diplomatic means.

"Tomorrow. At sunrise. The square."

The instruction comes whispered through the cracked boards. Dager does not know with whom he is meeting, only that they have something he might desire. He will come prepared, but Mab is certain that he will lower his defenses when he sees that she has returned. She will loosen his hold on the food stores. Open the borders. Those lost Incarnates may be lost forever, but as long as there are young ones, there is hope that we can return to the great city that we once were.

"Surely he can see that this is not the way. He just... needs a push. I can be that push."