“Why is she called the Empress?” Kiranrao asked.
“No one knows.” He turned to Annon. “Seek spirits to watch over us as we sleep. There is no way they can track where we went. Also see if you can understand from the spirits how the Boeotians feed themselves. These lands have been rather inhospitable so far, and we’ll need food to enter the Scourgelands. I hope to forage here, but we may not be able to without finding a settlement or one of their wandering camps. If you can, see if one of the spirits will guide us to one.”
He turned next to Hettie. “Study the tracks that have come since we last crossed this path. See what you learn from them.”
“Very well,” Hettie answered.
“The rest of you—sleep while you can. Shion, you keep watch.”
Phae saw the wisdom in the choice since the man did not ever sleep. Shion nodded, gave Phae a look that was enigmatic, and then the rest skulked to make their beds for the night, devoid of a fire that might reveal them. Phae was exhausted from the long march that day and promptly fell asleep.
They traveled three more days inside the Boeotians’ country without meeting a single soul. Annon had learned from the spirits of the region where food could be foraged, and it was edible but not tasty, mostly consisting of roots and weeds. For meat, there were some hardy lizards that blended so well into the dirt and rocks that it took a keen eye to find them. Water was also scarce, and so when they found small streams or hidden pools, they would drink deeply and then fill their water skins. As they crossed farther north, the land became rockier.
The hard days of walking left blisters on Phae’s heels, and the dust blowing in the air forced them all to wear makeshift scarves to breathe. The dunes were formidable and bleak, making Phae homesick for the lush valleys of Stonehollow. There were no Dryads in these lands, she could tell. Boeotia was a desolate place.
On the third day traveling north, the terrain changed. Instead of dusty dunes, the bones of huge rocks were exposed, changing the landscape dramatically. Jagged steps and bluffs, full of bumps and pockmarked rocks, cluttered the land in every direction. It was some misshapen mass, with strange gullies and cliffs. They entered warily, with Annon guiding them through the communion of spirit creatures. With the change of terrain came the opportunity for ambush, and so Tyrus kept them closer together.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, Annon stopped at the top of a rock ledge and pointed into a valley beyond. “There!” he said, waving the others to join him.
Phae was tired and her muscles ached. Her hair was caked with dust and she felt in desperate need of a stream to wade in. A stream had once carved the desolate canyons, but what she found was even more than she could have imagined.
“Well,” Baylen said, pursing his lips. “That’s a sight to be seen.”
The others crested the small rise and Phae got a look at it and stared in surprise. The canyon below had been carved into a little city.
It was the strangest thing she had ever seen before. Her people, the stonemasons of Stonehollow, were expert builders, carving rock and building fortresses. These people, it seemed, were expert diggers. Spaces and chambers had been carved into the rocks. It was not primitive, but sophisticated. What surprised Phae was the size, probably no larger than a single castle with four or five crumbling walls erected and connected to the canyon side that loomed like mountains in front of it.
“What is this place?” Aransetis asked, staring down at the town embedded inside the base of the canyon. Chambers had been carved out of the rock faces. His black clothes were spattered with dust and dirt.
“It’s abandoned,” Khiara observed. “No cook fires. I see no one down there. Not a single soul.”
“I think you’re right,” Tyrus said. “That is most likely. The Boeotians do not dwell in a particular place for very long. I was unaware of any towns built at all. This place appears to be ruins. As Khiara said, I see no signs of life.”
“Why are we here?” Kiranrao muttered darkly. “I thought our journey took us into the Scourgelands?”
“It will,” he answered patiently. “Annon, when you asked the spirits to show you a settlement . . . have they led us here?”
The Druidecht nodded. “This is where the spirits were leading us to. Maybe they did not understand.”
“Or maybe something lives inside those caves,” Aransetis added. “It is daylight after all and quite hot. They could watch us approach without being seen.”
“We’ll trust the spirits,” Tyrus said. “It will be dusk by the time we descend to the bottom of the canyon.”
“A good place for a trap,” Baylen said. “If this is the only road in or out . . .”
Tyrus looked at him with a half smile. “We can’t be trapped. But I appreciate you adding your voice of warning. Let us see what awaits us below.”