Page 142

All we could do was hope Rekja’s army could hold them off. And that by the time we reached our own army, we would be able to meet them.

If Herne and his rebels would join our numbers as promised. If Conreth would bring more fae from his lands. If Pris and Lorian and the others could use Daharak’s ships as planned to transport as many of the hybrids as possible to meet us.

If. If. If.

Demos had written to Vicer, ordering Finley to be arrested, making it clear that he expected him to be treated with care and respect. Vicer was a good man, and he would ensure Finley wasn’t targeted by anyone looking for revenge.

I’d been so, so sure that Demos was wrong about Finley being the one to replicate the amulet. Therehadto be someone else with a similar power.

But when we received a message back, stating that Finley was nowhere to be seen, I couldn’t deny it any longer. Three days later, we received another message. Finley had been found walking north along one of the main merchant roads and was finally arrested by our people.

Even more worryingly, Vicer’s message confirmed he hadn’t yet reached the Asric Pass—even though the small battalion sent by Prisca and Demos had already eliminated the soldiers Regner had positioned ready to ambush any hybrids who’d attempted the pass. The three thousand hybrids Prisca had sent with Vicer had been plagued by bad luck, slowing them down significantly. Apparently, anything that could have gone wrong had. While Vicer had previously created a temporary camp at the entrance to the pass, it was not going to be well supplied enough for the number of hybrids who would now be arriving every day. The hybrids needed to arrive with food, tents, and, of course, weapons.

By the time we met Telean in the tiny village we’d agreed upon, she was practically vibrating with impatience.

All of us had been more than ready to enjoy a warm meal that wasn’t cooked over a fire. But I’d mostly been too on edge to enjoy it. Even knowing that Regner had moved his armies elsewhere, I was aware there was always the chance that one of the humans here would recognize one of us and turn us in.

But Telean had chosen this village well. I’d already heard rumblings about Regner’s lies, and the sanctuary had been turned to ash. There were no signs of any guards, assessors, or priestesses.

We stayed one night in the village, and despite my anxiety, I fell into a sleep so deep, when Gwynara woke me the next morning, I blinked at her for so long, she laughed at me.

We continued traveling. Demos wore the amulet around his neck, and the sight of it had at least drawn the ghost of a smile from Telean. But all of us were more than ready to meet up with Prisca and the others.

Three days later, Telean demanded we find a sanctuary.

“A sanctuary?” I asked. “Why?”

“That is my own business.” She frowned at me.

“Many of them have been burned,” Demos muttered, adjusting one of his stirrups.

“Not all of them.”

“If they’re not burned, it’s likely because they are guarded,” he countered, rounding his horse to check the other stirrup.

“I know how to avoid drawing attention,” she snapped.

I opened my mouth, and she leveled me with a hardstare. “We are about to march into battle. If I wish to speak to the gods, that is my right.”

The likelihood of Demos allowing Telean to march into battle was about the same as me learning to fly. I glanced at Demos in time to catch the tiny smile playing around his mouth.

“I hadn’t realized you’d become so pious recently.” Demos arched one eyebrow.

Telean just stared at him until his smile became a full-fledged grin. “We’ll find you a sanctuary, aunt.” Something in my chest relaxed. I hadn’t seen that grin for too long.

As promised, Demos found her a sanctuary. My breaths were strained and shallow as Demos and I huddled in the forest near the sanctuary, watching as Telean approached. This village was larger than most, and Regner’s guards had a strong hold on the people here. They shuffled around, eyes darting as they went about their day, not daring to do anything that would draw the wrong kind of attention.

It was a village of women and children, with most of the men conscripted for Regner’s war.

Horrison had declared Telean’s excursion an unnecessary risk and refused to have any part in it. He wasn’t wrong. Firion and Brinlor were arranging for fresh horses so we could travel more quickly, while Elysanth was likely in the nearest tavern.

We’d been forced to leave her sister with human healers in Eprotha. Demos knew they were loyal, but there was no way Amalra would have survived long enough for us to get her to a fae or hybrid healer.

The guard who’d stabbed her sister had used fae iron. Demos had told Elysanth to stay with Amalra, but she’d refused, stating that her sister would want her to get their vengeance.

Demos glanced at me, and his eyes dropped to my mouth. This was the first time we’d been alone in days. At night, I slept next to Gwynara, while he occasionally caught a few hours’ sleep and then insisted on staying up as sentry.

I…missed him. We’d spent most of our days together in Herne’s camp, and I missed those long walks. Missed making plans for the camp. Missed watching him look at me the way he sometimes did…