Hope in Ruins Book III: The Fountain and the City of Salt

Chapter 13: The Ruined Cities

ANDA

She thought she'd smell it before she saw it, and she did. It wasn't cold enough for the Ruins of Unseen City not to rot. Anda wondered how long the city had burned before the snow had covered its flames and ruins in white and whispered it asleep.

Stephen led them to the crest of the mountain and stopped at the top, looking down. Anda came next to him and stared down the snowy mountainside. Below them, the city lay ruined. The entire mountainside where the city had been, hidden under rock and bush and tree, had been destroyed. There was nothing left but rubble and rock and drifting snow. They stared in silence. Not even the wind dared to whisper in such a place as this.

Finally, Stephen descended the mountain and walked silently through the ruin of his home. Stone and rubble from some grand building had been crushed and thrown below a waterfall. Anda thought she could make out an eye on one of the stones, but she decided she was seeing things in the rushing, freezing water. The river poured around boulders and rock and broken bits of homes and formed ice on shattered window frames. Every so often, the too-many man's soft laugh would echo across the stones and snow, leaving a cold and terrible silence behind in the ruin of the Unseen City. Anda wondered who was laughing.

They remained silent, reverent, as Stephen observed the wreckage of his home. Anda wondered what it would be to see your home and your life in ruins, broken and burned and smashed. The thought filled her like dark, cold water: she already had. She had been to her home, and she had felt nothing but fear. No remorse, no sadness, just fear with her too-white skin and her too-red mouth smiling at her.

"All right," Stephen finally said. He'd been standing staring at his city for a long time, how long, Anda didn't know. But it was long enough that she'd sat down and closed her eyes to rest. She peeked up at him from where she sat under a snow-covered pine with her knees pulled up to her chin. Eli and Seth blinked up at him. They sat against a fallen tree. "Let's go," Stephen said. He turned his back on his city and led them out of the ruin and into the sunset.

A few miles west of the city, Stephen stopped. He stared at what looked like nothing in particular: just another boulder, another clump of trees, more rock and dirt and dead and dried brush.

"I did a rotation here," Stephen said. Anda looked around: there was nothing there. "At this outpost," Stephen said. "A squad of Seers and their Guides were stationed here to observe and protect the city." He pointed to the mountainside, and Anda squinted.

Then she saw it: a small building in the mountain. The outpost, built into the terrain and rock and earth, was almost invisible unless you knew what to look for.

"Hannah and her Guide used to make hot chocolate at night. She'd put spices into it so...." but Stephen's voice trailed off. "The outpost should be well-stocked," he said, standing up straighter and going to the door. "We should find everything we need to get to the City of Salt," he assured them as he pushed the door open with his good arm.

Inside, the abandoned outpost was cold but dry. It was reminiscent of the Unseen: sparse, but not bare. Practical but not uncomfortable. Eli collapsed into a wooden chair and leaned back, limp from exhaustion. Seth stood in the doorway like he was waiting for the ghosts to part so he could enter.

"Seth, get in here and close the door," Eli said. "It's cold out there."

The Unseen Prophet hesitated but obeyed, and the outpost turned stuffy almost instantly. Anda watched the old prophet look around the room. There wasn't much to the room: wooden furniture. Musty wool blankets. A fireplace. But she wondered what this place had been to him, and she wondered who the ghosts were that whispered to him. Death and reminiscence go hand in hand, two beautiful women with strong hands and red cheeks.