Mangum had thought about her—planned something for her? His kindness prompted a cautious smile—the first one in days.
The drive was a much-needed change from the last few days. They were headed east of the palace, a direction she hadn’t been yet. At first there were towns with houses and shops that zoomed by her window, but the scenery eventually changed to open, green fields with the occasional farmhouse. The mountains surrounding them had changed too. In some places, there weren’t any mountains at all. In other places, the mountains were brown and desert-looking instead of stacked with pine trees. Eventually, Renna could see the ruins off in the distance. A few dilapidated buildings scattered the skyline beyond.
“It must have been a city,” she said as she slammed the transporter door behind her.
Mangum looked around at the scene. “Yes, a small one, I think.”
Renna ran toward the rubble, calling behind her as she went, “It’s amazing!”
For more than an hour, she climbed through the area, touching structures, examining parts of buildings, imagining people coming and going. It was the most significant area with the tallest fragments of buildings she had ever seen. Ruins were commonplace, but not like this, not this much in one area. Mangum was always close behind her, warning her to be careful, telling her not to climb on that, telling her things were unstable, or too sharp to touch. She had to laugh at his fatherly ways.
She sat atop stairs that were still intact, like a bird perched on a tree branch. The remains of the rundown city square sprawled across the land around her. Behind her, decaying pillars threatened to tumble over from years of neglect. A diamond and the words Bank of Colorado were etched into what was left of the building.
Desolation—so much emptiness and destruction. The last few days had been her own personal desolation. She was empty, hollow, and ruined everywhere. She thought about the pre-Desolation world and its people. They’d had it all, and then everything had come crumbling down. They’d lost everything. Renna had been like that pre-Desolation world. She’d had everything she could ever want with Trev. Then he had been ripped away by external forces, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She wondered about the Desolation survivors. Would she ever be able to rebuild again like they did, to start completely over with nothing? There would always be fragments of Trev that remained—cutting into her mind and heart like the jagged pieces of metal and concrete that jutted out of the ground before her. He was a part of her story now, but he wouldn’t be the only chapter. She knew, sitting there, that she couldn’t let this experience cripple her. She was a survivor. She had already lost somebody she loved once before. Nothing would ever hurt as much as losing her father had, and she had survived that. She would survive this too. She would rebuild again. Her unconquerable spirit would see her through.
A soft breeze blew through her hair, cool enough to remind her that summer was over. The warmth would soon fade, allowing room for something new. She would miss Trev like she missed summertime when in the depths of winter, but winter ice eventually thawed into a beautiful spring, a new beginning. She just needed to figure out what her new beginning would be.
“Miss Renna? Are you ready to go?” Mangum asked from the steps below.
She looked at Mangum. For the past four years, he had been steady, helping her, coaxing her along in her new life at the Government Center—always trying to keep her safe. And yet, she didn’t know anything about him.
“Mangum, have you ever been in love?” She hoped her question didn’t sound too personal.
He seemed surprised but answered anyway. “Once.” He climbed the steps, so he was right in front of her.
“Who was she? What happened?”
“Jarie Swire.” Slowly, he lowered his body, sitting down next to Renna. “And I married her.”
“I didn’t know you were married. Where is your wife now?” Renna wanted all the details.
Mangum rested his elbows on his knees. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
Renna watched him patiently, hoping he would tell a piece of his story to her.
“There’s not much to tell. We were in love, got married. I left King Bryant’s service to go and work on the Swire Farm. We were happy.” His voice trailed off as if his mind was lost in another time.
“What happened?” Renna pressed.
“We had a baby. A beautiful little girl named Paulette.” Mangum looked at Renna, his eyes full of lost love. “She would have been just a little older than you. The cutest little thing, but she didn’t live long. She was born with a crooked back, and who knows what else. So we just loved her. Made her comfortable. We had three good years with Paulette.” His eyes filled with tears. “They were my best three years.”
Renna’s heart broke just looking at him. Sometimes she felt like she was the only one who went through hard things but talking to Mangum made her realize that everyone had heartache. All you had to do was ask.
“We tried to move on after Paulette passed, but Jarie and I saw things differently. Grief consumed her, and there was no consolation. After a few years, we decided it would be best if I left and went back to King Bryant’s guard. She stayed at the farm.”
“Is she still there?”
“Yes.” His voice grew stronger like he was over the worst part of the story. “I visited her a year ago. We’re still married—but it’s not the same.”
Renna put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
Mangum shrugged. “Sometimes, life comes from behind and scares you so badly that it takes your breath away.” He patted her hand, leaving his on top. “But don’t worry. You will breathe again.”
Renna leaned her head against his shoulder, missing her own father more than ever. She was grateful for Mangum—grateful for his comfort and words of advice. He wasn’t Kimball Degray, but he didn’t need to be. He filled a void in her heart, and his assistance couldn’t have come at a better time.
She was ready to breathe again.
39
Trev
Smoke swirled and faded into the orange sunrise hovering above the Axville camp. Albion soldiers circled around fires savoring the heat against the chilly morning air. Two miles away, at the enemy’s camp, Trev could see similar patches of smoke dancing upward, most likely warming Tolsten soldiers. Albion had been fighting for the last few weeks, pushing back Tolsten soldiers who crossed the border, trying to take residence in Axville.
The town was unrecognizable. Houses and factories were partially burned. Roofs were scorched. Windows were broken, leaving a spray of glass everywhere. But none of that even compared to the tragedy of the missing girls, taken by a group of Tolsten soldiers. Eight teenage girls were missing. They had been gathered together by the riverbank, friends chatting after a long day of work in the factory. The soldiers had watched them, waiting to make a move. The girls hadn’t stood a chance. And now, there were still no answers to their whereabouts. King Adler denied Tolsten’s involvement, claiming the girls could have been taken by anyone, but Trev knew better.
“It’s mighty good of you to come, Your Highness.” A skinny-to-the-bone woman squeezed Trev’s hand, pulling him out of his own thoughts. “We’ve been scared out of our wits for our young girls.”