>>Aelin
The lounge was quiet, heavy with the kind of silence that came after terrible knowledge. The fire in the hearth crackled, throwing soft golden light against the dark walls, but none of us were warmed by it.
We sat scattered around the room. Draken and Vesper shared one of the long couches, their boots muddied from the morning's trek. Draegon stood near the fire, arms folded as he stared into the flames. Ariston leaned back in a chair, twirling a dagger between his fingers like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. I sat on the edge of a low table, hands braced behind me, still unable to shake the image of those husks shambling in the sunlight.
Vesper was the first to speak.
"The valley might not be the only place they were dumped," she said, her voice low.
Drakkar glanced at her. "Then why were they dumped at all? Why not just kill them?"
Ariston didn't hesitate. "Because they didn't care enough to. Why waste the effort?"
