Chapter 17: It's No Longer My Home
Four days.
That's how long we'd been back in the Kingdom of Rovena.
And somehow, it already felt longer than the four years I'd spent away.
Everything had changed.
The forests my grandfather used to hunt in were cut down like someone had punished the land itself. Whole stretches of green reduced to stumps and ash. We couldn't move the way we wanted to.
We had to move in plain sight.
The elves stayed disguised as humans. Their cloaks hid their ears. Their posture hid their age. Their silence hid everything else.
Rowanda made sure we reached the shore unseen, the same way she'd done the last time she'd come here.
Rowanda and Obara didn't stay behind, either.
Queen Est'Chamali gifted them the Yellow Rose and its half-elf crew, along with a chest of gold, and sent them off with a smile that looked almost human.
I could've gone with them.
But I wanted to see what had happened to Rovena in my absence.
I needed to see it with my own eyes, even if it hurt.
That night, we camped near Ennox.
I kept watch with Quiri. The air was colder here, but it wasn't Ilana's cold. Ilana's cold felt like a wall. This cold felt like a memory.
Then a scream cut through the dark.
A woman.
From the direction of town.
I looked at Quiri. "Did you hear that?"
Quiri tilted her head as if the sound was a question she didn't like. "You have good hearing for a human."
She studied me. "We can't help whoever that is. We stay here. We keep watch."
"Stay and keep watch then," I said, already standing. "I'm going to look."
Quiri didn't stop me.
Maybe she knew she couldn't.
Maybe she just didn't care.
I moved through the trees, keeping my steps quiet the way the elves did. I'd been trying to learn it for four days. Tonight, it finally worked. My feet made no sound.
I found them.
Three men in armor.
A woman with a torn dress.
The men were laughing too softly, too confidently, like they'd done this before.
My chest went cold.
I waited until they set their weapons aside. Until they thought they were safe. Until they stopped looking into the dark.
Then I moved.
Fast.
Clean.
One man fell before he understood why. Another tried to reach for steel that wasn't on him anymore.
The third froze.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
"Leno?" he said, voice cracking.
I stopped.
Stared.
"Peek?" I said.
Peek had grown taller and heavier, beard thick on his jaw. He looked like a man now, not a boy.
But the eyes were the same.
Small. Mean. Familiar.
"You've grown," Peek said, looking me up and down. His gaze lingered on my sword. "Still small."
"You've grown too," I said. "Still ugly."
His face twisted. "The twins will kill you for this."
"Only if they catch me," I said, and my voice surprised me with how calm it sounded. "Last time you chased me, I disappeared for four years."
Peek's lips curled. "So you're going to run like a coward?"
"No," I said. "I'm going to disappear again."
He took a step forward too quickly, tangled in his own haste, stumbled, and hit the ground hard.
He didn't get up again.
I stared down at him for a heartbeat.
"What a disappointment," I muttered.
Then I turned to the woman.
She was shaking, hair loose, eyes wide.
Something about her face tugged at my memory.
"Do I know you?" I asked.
Her lips trembled into something like a smile.
"Of course you do," she whispered. "Last time we saw each other, my sister was braiding my hair. You hit the twins with a plank and made them scream."
I blinked.
"You know my name," I said. "What's yours?"
"Canty," she said.
I helped her stand, keeping my eyes on the trees.
"Tell me what happened to Ennox," I said.
Canty's gaze dropped. "It's not called Ennox anymore."
My stomach tightened.
"After the slavers came and took people away… there were no adults left to guide us. Mana and Nama took over."
She swallowed.
"They call it Mace Town now."
"Mace Town," I repeated, tasting the words like poison. "They rule it?"
"Yes," Canty said. "The king made them lords. Their father died saving what was left of us."
"Ser Mace was a good man," I said quietly. "Shame his sons were bullies."
"They're worse now," Canty whispered. "Women get hurt. The town is filthy. The twins' men kill whenever they want."
I felt the old rage rise, slow and heavy.
"Why don't you leave?" I asked.
Canty let out a small, broken laugh. "They built gates. Anyone who leaves without permission gets killed."
She looked away. "Peek and his friends brought me here because… they always bring women here. Some never come back."
My jaw tightened.
I glanced at one of the men on the ground and recognized him too.
"Finan," I murmured. "Even Finan survived."
Canty stared at me. "You didn't?"
"No," I said. "The slavers took me. I spent four years far south."
She didn't understand what that meant, so I didn't force it.
"Why are the forests cut down?" I asked.
Canty's voice went flat, like she'd repeated this story too many times.
"After the twins led us to King Emmet's castle, he refused to spare men to protect us. So he made the twins lords. At first it was… peaceful."
Her mouth tightened.
"We were scared. So we cut down trees, built stronger walls. Then the surviving adults were killed."
Canty looked up at me.
"We haven't had peace since."
I stared across the dead treeline.
No birds.
No squirrels.
No nuts.
No deer.
It wasn't just people that had been taken.
The land had been stripped too.
I picked up a bottle from the ground, poured ale onto Finan's face.
He woke gasping and cursing.
I crouched beside him. "Who guards the gates?"
"Fuck you!" Finan snarled. "I'll skin you alive!"
I lifted my blade just enough for him to understand the next second could be his last.
Finan swallowed hard. "Jasper," he spat. "Jasper guards the gates. Alone."
"Good," I said.
Then I leaned close and smiled like a boy again.
"Run back," I told him. "Tell Mana and Nama that Leno is back."
Finan's eyes widened.
"Tell them," I whispered, "I'm coming for their heads."
Finan ran.
Canty watched him go, trembling.
"What now?" I asked her. "Where will you go?"
Canty looked east. "White Wood. I've always wanted to see it."
My grandfather never liked White Wood. Said big cities made people forget their own faces.
"Same," I said. "Maybe I'll find you there."
I hesitated, then remembered the detail that mattered.
"What about your sister?" I asked quietly.
Canty's eyes went distant. "She died four years ago."
"I'm sorry," I said. And for once, I meant it without knowing what else to do with the pain.
"Goodbye, Canty."
"Goodbye, Leno."
I turned back toward camp.
And for the first time since I'd returned, I understood something with cold certainty.
This place wasn't home anymore.
It was a grave that learned how to speak