Grey sighs and gives Iisak a withering look again.
Lia Mara’s gaze has turned more appraising. “Tell me more about this enchantress. Do you truly think she will stop with Emberfall?”
“She resents Rhen for his family’s role in destroying her people,” says Grey.
“Syhl Shallow had a role as well,” says Iisak. “The magesmiths would not have been forced to find refuge in Emberfall if they had been welcome here.” He pauses, peering at me, and another cold lick of wind whispers against my cheek. “Why did you think I was an enchantment?”
Literally nothing about my arrival here has gone the way I expected it to. But maybe I needed to shatter my expectations before I could start over. “Because of what she did to Rhen,” I whisper. “Because of what she did to me.” I glance at Grey. “Because of what she did to you.”
He says nothing. His gaze is heavy.
“You know what she’s doing to him,” I say. “You remember. I know you do.” My voice breaks. We were so close to some kind of … something before the scraver walked in here, and I wish I could reverse time to that moment. “Please, Grey. I know I have nothing to offer. No kingdom, no alliance. But please. You have to help me save him. Please.”
None of them look like they want to help me. None of them even look sympathetic. Scary Grey is in full effect. Jake is stoic and impassive—it’s no secret how he feels about Rhen.
“I once begged him for mercy, too,” says Grey.
“So did I,” says Tycho, and his voice is quiet but strong.
That hits me like a dart to the chest. I know they did. I remember. I probably have no right to ask Grey for anything on Rhen’s behalf.
“What does she want?” says Lia Mara. “This enchantress.”
“She wants to rule Emberfall,” I say. “She wants to force Rhen to stand at her side while she does it.”
“And why is she so cruel?”
The question forces me still. “Does it matter? Why is anyone cruel?”
“There is always a reason,” says Lia Mara. “And if she intends to set herself as my adversary in your stead, I believe it to be relevant.” She comes to stand beside Grey. When she looks up at him, he looks back at her, and his expression changes, softening.
I expect her to ask if Lilith will be a threat to her country, or whether it’s worth exploiting Rhen’s sudden weakness to take advantage.
Instead, Lia Mara reaches out to take his hand, and his fingers curl around hers so gently that it’s almost as incongruous as the scraver picking up the kitten.
Lia Mara says, “He is your brother, Grey.” Her voice is so quiet. “Do you want to save him?”
Grey hesitates, then looks at me. “Why did he buy that dagger from a spy?”
I hear what he’s asking. Did Rhen buy it to use against me? Or did he buy it to use against Lilith?
I’m not sure what to say.
I’m not sure he needs me to say it.
“This was war,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens, and Grey takes the dagger and shoves it into his belt. He looks back at Lia Mara, then to the waiting soldiers, including my brother. “Lilith will not stop with Rhen,” he says. “She must know Syhl Shallow was planning to attack. She may have no interest in war, but she has plenty of interest in conflict. Rhen would have tried to spare his soldiers, to mount a defense with the least loss of human life.” Another pause. “Lilith will not care. She will force him to send soldier after soldier into battle, until they’re all dead. His and ours.”
“Do you think you can stop her?” Lia Mara says.
Grey looks at Iisak. “We can try.”
For the first time since arriving here, hope blooms in my chest. “Wait. Really?”
“He has a regiment already stationed at the border,” Grey says. “We would need a small team of soldiers, because she is expecting a full assault, and not for another few days. Captain Solt, choose from your company. No more than ten. We will need to leave at full dark.”
“Grey,” I whisper, my voice full of wonder. “You’ll do it? You’ll save him?”
“I will stop Lilith,” he says, and his voice is cold and dark. “I will protect Syhl Shallow.” He pauses. “Rhen’s life is not my concern.”
He turns away, but he may as well have stabbed me with the dagger before leaving. I have to press a hand to my abdomen.
“Come,” says Lia Mara. She takes my hand. “I will see to it that you have a room.”
I don’t want to like anything here, but the palace really is magnificent. I’m given a massive room with huge windows that look out over sprawling fields and the mountainside. I hoped Jake would come sit with me for a bit, but I haven’t seen him. I haven’t seen anyone. Food is brought, but for the most part, I’m left alone. The sun appears to be setting over the mountains, spilling pink and purple streaks across the glittering city.
I don’t even know if they’re taking me with them. Will they leave me here? Will I be some kind of prisoner in case things go south with Rhen? I hadn’t considered that. Grey was so cold when he turned away and began issuing orders.
I once begged him for mercy.
He did beg. I remember. But is that all that matters? They spent an eternity together, enduring the most terrible things I can imagine, but their relationship will boil down to one poor choice? And even as I think that, was the poor choice Rhen’s, when he ordered his guards to find some whips, or was the poor choice Grey’s, when he decided to run, when he chose to keep his birthright a secret?
I don’t know who I’m kidding. They were both wrong. Sometimes we make such poor choices that the good ones pale in comparison.
A hand raps at the door, and I nearly jump. “Enter,” I call. I hope for my brother.
Instead, I get Grey. He’s alone.
I’m so surprised that I stare at him for a long moment before scraping myself out of the chair to stand. “Grey.”
“I will have armor brought,” he says without preamble. “You will not be allowed to carry a weapon.”
“I’m going?” I say in surprise.
“There is worry that this is a trap.”
My mouth flattens into a line. “So I’m your hostage.”
His expression gives nothing away. “In truth, I was hoping you would serve as an advisor. My soldiers will not know what to expect as we head into Emberfall.” He pauses. “It would go a long way toward establishing goodwill.”
“If I have a chance at rescuing Rhen, I’ll do whatever you need.”
He says nothing to that. He glances at my leg. “You are still injured. I can heal the damage.”
I freeze in place. “With magic.”
“It would be better if you were not a burden on the journey.”
“Well.” I drop into the chair. “I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
Grey isn’t one to be baited. He draws a low stool close and drops to sit in front of me, wasting no time in reaching for the laces of my boots. Noah has stitched up the back of his hand, a tiny row of black knots. Grey is so clinical, so efficient, but I shiver anyway. I have so many memories of him, all rooted in my first days in Emberfall. The way he caught my arm and showed me how to hold a dagger. The way he stood at my back and taught me how to throw a knife. How he’d catch my fist when he taught me to throw a punch, or the way he’d adjust my stance when I first began learning swordplay.
The way he was hurt and terrified in my apartment after Noah stitched him up, how his eyes kept seeking mine for reassurance.
How he unbuckled his bracers in the filthy alley in Washington, DC, buckling them onto my forearms.
I have no coins or jewels to leave you with, he said. But I do have weapons.
The way he saved me from the Syhl Shallow soldiers on the battlefield, how he pulled me into his arms. I will keep her safe, he said to Rhen.
Oh, Grey. I can understand why he’s mad at Rhen, but I never truly thought about what it would mean for me and Grey to be on opposite sides of this war.
Maybe I could have played fate’s cards differently anywhere along the line and we could have been more than friends, but I didn’t. He didn’t. I think about that moment in the courtyard behind the Crooked Boar, when he went with Lia Mara and I went back to Rhen. I wonder where we’d be now if I had made a different choice. If he had. I wonder what it would be like to look on Rhen as an enemy, as someone on the other side of a battlefield, and the thought makes my heart stutter.
Whatever Grey and I are, I don’t want to be enemies. I don’t want him and Rhen to be enemies. My throat tightens. I can’t breathe.
I must make a sound or a motion that catches his attention, because he looks up in alarm. “My lady,” he says softly.
My lady. I can’t take it. I throw myself forward and wrap my arms around his neck. “Please, Grey,” I say, pressing my tear-streaked face into his shoulder. “You were my friend. Please don’t be like this.”
It’s probably the most reckless move in the world, because he has about four million weapons, and there are plenty of people in this castle who think it’d be easier if I were in a grave right now.
But Grey catches me, his strong hands gentle against my waist. He drops his head, and I feel more than hear his sigh. He doesn’t quite hold me, but he doesn’t shove me away.
“Please,” I say. “I don’t want to be your enemy.”
“Nor do I.” His voice is very low, very quiet. “I do not want to be Rhen’s either.”
I draw back a bit to look at him. “But … you won’t rescue him.”
“We have been preparing for war, Harper. I offered him trust. I offered him friendship. I offered him brotherhood. He rejected them all, and I have had to make peace with that. As it is, these soldiers hardly trust me. What you heard from Solt and Nolla Verin will not be the end of it. I cannot make this a mission to rescue him. They would refuse.”
“We could go alone! We could—”
“Alone? I have spent weeks at Lia Mara’s side, convincing this army I am allied with their queen. Convincing these soldiers that I stand with them. How could I disappear in the middle of the night with the Princess of Disi?”
This all feels so fruitless. “But—”
“No, Harper. I will not do that to them.” His eyes darken, his tone sharpening. “I certainly will not do it to her.”
I go still. There’s a protective note in his voice that I haven’t heard before. A look in his eyes. I have to draw back farther, shifting into the chair to study him. I was stuck on all the loyalty and strategic talk that reminds me so much of Rhen, but now I’m focused on the last part of that sentence, on the intensity in his gaze.
Oh. Oh.
He’s in love with her.
“I can take action to protect Syhl Shallow,” Grey continues. “And I will.” He pauses. “I cannot promise to protect Rhen,” he says. “But I can make a vow to destroy Lilith, if I am able.”
“And if Rhen survives, what then? What happens to this war?”
“You said he wanted peace, did you not?”
“He does,” I say. “He does. I swear it.”
“Good.” Grey pulls the boot off my foot, all business again. “If he survives, then he can prove it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
LIA MARA
The night sky is full of clouds again, snow flurries trickling down through the wind. I can barely see the soldiers leaving, which I suppose is the point. Iisak will follow in the skies. He’s already well overhead, nearly invisible in the twilit darkness.
Nolla Verin is waiting inside the palace with Clanna Sun, because we’re to discuss contingency plans, but I’m standing in the iced-over gardens, watching the small group of soldiers ride toward the city gates. We’ve spent weeks and weeks preparing for war, but I never once thought of how it would feel to stand like this, watching the barest glints of their weapons as they ride off the training fields. I never realized that it would feel like I’ve given away a part of myself, a part that Grey now carries with him.
He found me before they left, stealing a few minutes of privacy during which I should have been whispering warnings and promises and telling him all the ways my heart beats for him alone. Instead, his lips were on mine, and I inhaled his breath until I was dizzy with wanting and soldiers were shouting for him.
Grey kissed me one last time, then whispered against my lips. “I will come back to you.”
I hooked my fingers in his armor before he could pull away. “Your word?”
He smiled, took my hand, and kissed my fingertips. “My vow.”
Then he was gone, all softness erased from his face, any vulnerability gone from his frame.
But now I’m standing, staring, watching, waiting. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave this garden until I see him return.
I heard what Harper said about this enchantress, the things she did to Rhen and his people. I’ve heard Grey’s stories of what she used to do.
He could die.
The thought flies into my head without warning, and once there, it takes root. I have to shake it loose.
I can’t.
I might never see him again.
The thought is dizzying. I have to put a hand against my belly.
And then I throw up my dinner right there in the garden.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
GREY
When I first journeyed to Syhl Shallow with Lia Mara, our traveling party was fractured in the beginning, with clear lines of division: me and Tycho, Jake and Noah, Lia Mara and Iisak. It made for tense conversation and uneasy nights, leaving everyone irritated and snappish.
This journey back into Emberfall is worse.
Captain Solt provided ten soldiers, as requested, and most of them are lethal and experienced, but to my surprise Solt included Tycho among them.
When I questioned him about it, he said, “The boy is from Emberfall. We may need a fluent scout.”
“Wise,” I said.
Solt grunted. “We’ll also need someone to dig a ditch for the latrine.”
To his credit, Tycho has done everything asked of him, rubbing down the horses, cleaning harness leather, fetching buckets of water—and digging ditches. He’s never shied away from hard work. It’s been three days, and we’ve only been riding at night, so I watch him pitch face-first onto his bedroll the very instant he’s relieved of duty.
Harper has been clinging to her brother’s side, which has generated some glances from the other soldiers, so I have tried to keep my distance from both of them, choosing instead to sit with Solt at meal times. I don’t want to give anyone in our group the impression that I am separate from them. Unfortunately it leaves me with little conversation, because Solt is cool and distant, speaking only when spoken to.
My only true companion is Iisak, who takes to the skies when we ride at night, then lands at daybreak and demands that I practice my skills. Always before, magic was a struggle because I didn’t understand it—and I didn’t want to understand it.
Now magic is a struggle because I know where my limitations are—limitations Lilith herself does not share.
I’ve come to eye my bedroll with the same desperation as Tycho, but when I try to sleep, all I do is worry. I don’t think Harper would lead me into a trap, which I know occupies the thoughts of the other soldiers—but I am also unsure if Rhen truly wanted peace, or if his desires were more strategic in nature. I know Harper believes the best of him, but I’ve seen the worst.
I know this dagger is impervious to magic—the irritating stitches across the back of my hand are proof enough of that. But I don’t know if it will be enough.
I don’t know if I can defeat Lilith. I don’t know if I can save Rhen.
I don’t know if I can help unite these countries.
And deeper, darker, a thought I almost don’t want to admit to myself: I don’t know if I can keep my vow to Lia Mara. I might have magic, but I don’t have the skill with it that Lilith does. She trapped all of Ironrose in a curse that seem
ed eternal, and I now know that requires a complicated layering of magic that I am nowhere near mastering.
Sleep proves to be elusive at best, and I am no less surly and snappish than the others.
By the fourth day, we’ve circled around Rhen’s stationed regiment, sticking close to the forest. Tonight we’ll need to move out of the woods on the mountainside, which will be the riskiest travel yet, so I practice with Iisak for a shorter time, and then he goes to scout our paths from overhead to see if we’ll encounter any resistance or risk of discovery.
It’s barely sunrise, but most of the soldiers have already fallen asleep. It seems they’ve called on Tycho to guard the camp, because he’s sitting against a tree not far from the fire. I slip between the trees, wondering if I’ll find him dozing, but I should give Tycho more credit. I hardly make a sound, but he whirls off the ground, an arrow nocked on a string before he’s fully upright.
I catch the arrow against the bow so he can’t let it fly.
His eyes are wide, his breathing a little quick, but relief blooms in his gaze. “Sorry.” He hesitates, easing the bow string. “Your Highness.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “You were quick off the ground.”
The praise makes him blush, just a bit. He tucks the arrow in his quiver and hangs the bow over his shoulder. “It’s the first time they’ve asked me to sit sentry.”
“Well chosen,” I say.
His blush deepens. “I’m more worried I’ll fall asleep.”
“I’ll sit with you.”
He looks startled at that, and maybe a little wary, but he nods. “As you say.”
I sit, putting my back to a tree a few feet away, and he sits as well, pulling the bow into his lap. The early morning forest is quiet and cold, the tethered horses just as tired as the soldiers. I’ve hardly spoken to Tycho since I confronted him in the sleet a few days ago. With someone else, there might be some tension between us, but with Tycho, there’s none. Because the silence is so amiable, I let it hang between us while the sun fully rises, letting my thoughts drift.
If I’m not careful, I will doze off, so I try to fill the silence. “Do you ever think of the tourney?”
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