Page 27

“And will you fight by our side?” Demos asked Herne.

“Yes. But we will reinforce our traps first. This place is our home, and many would like to return.”

One of Herne’s most trusted people approached, a man named Frenik. His stern face lightened as he nodded at us, but he immediately held up a piece of parchment for Herne, who sighed. “Excuse me.”

Tibris watched him go, and his hands fisted at his sides.

“You’ll see him soon,” I said softly. We’re going to make sure of it.

“I hope so.”

He said the words as if the likelihood was low. I frowned at him. “Prisca will be able to overlook the fact that you were shot here if you tell her how much you wantto be with Herne.”

His expression closed off. “I need to get back to the healer’s tent.”

“What was that about?” I muttered. It wasn’t like Tibris to shut down like that.

Demos made a noncommittal sound. I turned to find him studying my face. Strangely, my cheeks heated under his attention.

“What is it?”

“Would you like to take a walk with me?”

It was already after the midday meal, which meant we’d leave tomorrow morning. We had enough time for this.

“Of course.”

The forest seemed even more alive somehow— from the earthy scent that teased my nostrils to the tiniest insects I spotted crawling through the overgrowth. I caught a single glimpse of Vynthar as he wound between two trees, and then he was gone.

The Drakoryx came and went as he pleased. His favorite game was to frighten any sentries who seemed close to falling asleep on their shift. But I’d seen the fond looks most of the rebels gave him when he did deign to appear, more than willing to be fed and stroked. It made all of us feel safer knowing he was stalking through these woods, searching for any scents that might not fit.

This wasn’t my first walk alone with Demos. In fact, we had a route we usually took. A route that allowed him to keep an eye on the sentries and make sure everyone was alert and in the correct place. After the way we’d managed to sneak up on this camp, he’d practically takenover security matters—something even Herne hadn’t been stubborn enough to refuse.

“Have you heard anything about Torinth?” I asked.

Pure devastation flickered across Demos’s face, almost too quickly for me to see it. I was so busy looking at him, my heel wobbled as I stepped onto a broken branch, and he caught my arm, instantly steadying me.

He stroked his thumb over the back of my wrist before letting his hand drift away. “I’m attempting to contact anyone who might know where he is. But… there’s a chance he won’t come, Asinia.”

“Even knowing his power might be the only chance we have to take down Regner?”

Demos studied a group of yellow wild flowers growing near the base of a huge oak. “I would like to believe he is the man I remember. ButI’mnot the man I remember.” Demos let out a bitter laugh.

It was difficult to imagine, given what I’d seen from everyone I loved so deeply. All of them had put aside their own dreams and goals, their own wants and needs. All of them had sacrificed everything they could. And would sacrifice more.

“We’ll tell him everything,” I said. “We’ll let him know he is our only chance.”

“Even knowing I’ll do whatever it takes to make him work with us, I don’t want him to join us out of guilt. I want him to join us because he has hope.”

It was intimate, seeing this side of Demos. He would indeed do whatever it took to get what we needed. He could be logical to the point of ruthlessness. But this side of him… I imagined it was the person he used to be,before he was arrested. Before everyone he loved was put to death.

I reached for his hand. Demos tensed but linked his fingers with mine. His hand was so large and warm, it was likely a mistake allowing myself to feel it clasping my own.

“Tell me about Torinth,” I said, pushing the thought away.

“We called him Tor,” he said, his voice rough. “Back then, he was almost like a brother to me. He lived close to us in Crawyth. The night it was destroyed, the night Prisca was taken and my parents died, his sister was also killed. She was all he’d had. His parents perished during the invasion. Tor was never bitter, though. He was the kind of boy who would laugh at your worst jokes and then give you his last bite of food. He drew people to him.”

My eyes stung. I could almost see the two boys running wild as children.