“I’ve the diary of one named Seften, a guard at the gate who witnessed the final battle. His words are better than mine.” He raised a finger, indicating that she should hold her questions, and dashed over to his shelves, scanning his collection of damaged books. He hummed tunelessly as he ran his fingers across creased and tortured spines, finally pulling out a small volume with a cry of triumph. It was, Karigan saw, half-charred, the remaining pages stained and stiff from water damage . . . and something darker.

“The diary of Seften,” the professor said. “Sadly, little of it survived.” He thumbed through brittle pages, then paused for some time, his eyes darting across the lines. “Here’s what I want. Seften writes: . . . after so many months of striving for victory, the king led a final charge onto the field, splendidly arrayed as always in his armor and the regalia of Sacoridia. We cheered as he led his elite Weapons and the reserve forces behind him. The enemy quailed and . . . and . . .” The professor muttered and squinted. “Much of this is muddled, I fear. Oh, I see. He says, and the troops on the field rallied, forcing the enemy’s host back, verging on retreat.” The professor flipped through some torn pages as Karigan dug her nails into her chair’s leather armrests.

“I lose it until this,” the professor said. “Then the enemy unleashed its great weapons, and it was like all five hells bared as one and all its mightiest demons came unleashed. We hadn’t a chance . . . So terrible they could not be of this Earth.” He paused, scanning the page for more legible parts, then cleared his throat. “When the clouds and rage and fire settled, I espied the king as he fell to the bloodied field, his Weapons slain in a black circle around him, his standards limp on the ground.”

Karigan squeezed her eyes shut. “No . . . ,” she murmured. But what had she expected? She’d seen the ruin of Sacor City, saw how an empire had risen up. And the king, she knew, would have laid his life down for his realm. He would not let the enemy overcome it while he still lived. He would not have hidden in the castle. I should have been there. Her presence wouldn’t have changed the tide of battle, but she ought to have been there with her people, even if it meant dying with them.

When she opened her eyes, she found the professor kneeling before her, the diary in one hand and a handkerchief extended in the other. “I seem to be causing you quite a bit of distress today.”

Only then did Karigan feel the hot stream of tears on her cheeks. She accepted the handkerchief.

“It’s clear you believe King Zachary was a good leader,” the professor said.

“He is a good leader,” Karigan said. And more than that. Much more.

The professor lifted his chin as if she’d only confirmed his own thoughts on the matter. He patted her knee, his expression compassionate. “I have found nothing in my research to dispute it,” he said. “And it is grand to hear one of his own servants corroborate it. Now, there is just a little left in Seften’s diary that is legible. Can you bear it?”

She nodded.

The professor solemnly returned her nod and remained on his knees. It appeared to Karigan that he skipped paragraphs. Perhaps he was trying to spare her from some further unpleasantness. It did not take much imagination to guess what an enemy would do to a fallen monarch’s corpse, especially with no bodyguards left to defend it.

“Here it is,” the professor said. “Seften writes: The king’s death stole the courage of our soldiers. We were lost after that. The demon beasts descended on us, crushing the city walls and all within as if they were nothing, destroying, destroying . . . No one was safe. There was nowhere to go. We were lost, Sacoridia was lost.”

After a long pause, Karigan asked, “That’s all?”

“I’m afraid so.” Professor Josston rose, closing the diary. “The rest is illegible or destroyed. Elsewhere, we find tantalizing mentions of the weapon or weapons that destroyed the city, often referred to as demons or hell beasts. In some accounts it is said that Second Empire raised the beasts from its one hell. In others, it is said that the Sacoridians drew the beasts out of their five, but the beasts turned on them.”

Beasts, weapons . . . Karigan shook her head. “What of Rhovanny? The Eletians?” she demanded, thinking of Sacoridia’s allies of old. “Did no one come to our aid?”

“Rhovanny sent help, but they were also under attack. Of Eletia?” He shrugged. “It appears the Eletians did not come. It did not prevent the empire from seeking out Eletia, however, and capturing it along with every other country on this continent. But Eletia, it seems to me, suffered the most.”

“How so?” she asked, thinking everything she had done, everything the king and her fellow Riders had tried to do, was worthless. If this was the outcome despite everything they tried, what had been the point of their effort? She clenched her hands as despair darkened her thoughts.

“Any Eletians that were taken captive were hauled off to the Capital,” the professor replied. “You see, my dear, long ago, in their own land, the Arcosians learned to draw etherea out of the air, the earth, the water, and . . . out of those with inherent magic, all for the pleasure and use of the emperor of Arcosia and those he favored. It is why the Arcosians first came here—they depleted their own sources of etherea. By all accounts, Eletia and its inhabitants have been sucked dry.”

That would explain why her special ability and her moonstone had not worked.