POV: Caleb
We found them a mile past the eastern checkpoint, huddled together in a shallow ditch.
"Sten." Keith crouched in front of the nearest one, gripping his shoulder. "Sten, look at me."
Sten looked at him. The hardest part was that his eyes were clear and almost normal, right up until he spoke.
"Golden hair," he said. "Golden hair and her eyes were wrong."
"Whose eyes, Sten?"
"Wrong," Sten said again, and then he started laughing. The sound broke the silence. It was the kind of laugh you wouldn't expect from a soldier who had survived two wars.
I crouched on his other side. "Report. Now. What happened to your patrol?"
Something in my voice cut through whatever fog had him, enough that his eyes sharpened, briefly, on my face. "Your Highness."
"What happened?"
"A man came ou
