Page 17

But he kept moving forward, never stopping, never resting.

Little by little, inch by inch, the wagon began to move until—

Skye grunted when the cart abruptly pitched forward, and he stumbled. Several of the mages gave similar cries, slogging through the mud as they continued to push.

Rubbing at the rapidly healing cuts on his palms, Skye stepped to the side, content to watch now that they had managed to free the wagon from the watery ditch.

Crescent Canyon was only a few miles up the road, and the terrain was already becoming more densely wooded as they moved out of the grassland and back into the forest. People milled about, catching their breath. Like him, they were coated in a combination of sweat, mist, and mud. The sick and injured rode on top of the wagons, some taking refuge underneath tattered tarps that billowed in the wind. Everyone else walked.

“We can’t keep going like this,” Eula grumbled, coming to stand beside him. Mud stained the leather of her boots and armor, and her hair had become disheveled and flecked with dirt. She clucked her tongue as she took in his hunched shoulders and labored breathing. “How’s your aether?”

Nudging at that well of power inside him, Skye teased out a tendril of magic, snaking itaround one of the shadow crystals slotted into his armor. He pulled at the aether stored within, pushing it into his blood. The burning in his lungs immediately began to soothe; the aching pain in his arms and legs abated.

Standing up a little straighter, he gave her a strained smile. “Just fine.”

Eula’s lips curled into a familiar frown, but the reprimand never came. “If we keep up this pace,” she said instead, “we can make it to Della by nightfall.”

“Good,” Skye replied just as someone shouted from the front of the line. The wagons began to edge forward, the wheels slinging dirt and muddy water onto those walking too close. The horses groaned, struggling beneath the massive load, and a few shadow mages took up positions behind the carts and began to push. For not the first time that morning, Skye wondered if they should’ve left the flash cannons behind. While they would be useful in a fight—an absolute Shardsend if Ryme’s defenses had been compromised—they were heavy.

Skye and Eula walked alongside the horses, not caring about the sprays of water that soaked their already-damp clothing and armor. The week had been full of hard work, and spring on Tempris was always wet and miserable. Anyone that lived on the island for any length of time eventually got used to the rain.

“Shards, this is awful,” a new voice griped. Skye turned, his scowl deepening when he saw another familiar face jogging to catch up.

“Report, Kato,” Eula snapped at the brassy-haired fey. The stern noblewoman was known forher patience, but even she was starting to crack beneath the strain.

“The potholes are filled,” Kato said as he fell into line beside them. His leather armor was almost identical to Skye’s, with the emblem for House Ghislain—a dragon surrounded by swirls of shadow magic—set into the breastplate. A plain blue canvas coat protected him from the rain, and a simple but well-made sword with a row of fire crystals running the length of the blade hung from his belt.

Skye glanced back at the gaping, watery pothole in the middle of the road. Thankfully, the other carts were managing to steer the horses around the ditch. “You missed one.”

Kato blew at an unruly lock of hair that clung to his forehead. “No, we didn’t.” He banged on the side of one of the carts. “These things are just so damned heavy that the sand isn’t doing shit. And since you’re still insisting that the earth mages need to save their aether to fortify the camp tonight rather than helping us fix the roads, this is what you get.”

Skye and Eula shared a look, both choosing to remain silent as they continued to march. Most of the earth mages were already exhausted. The week’s hardships had brought with it a steady stream of sick and injured, and it would’ve been foolish to waste their aether on something so easily fixed with simpler, non-magical methods. Even Kato knew this, was capable of understanding, though he would never stoop so low as to be agreeable.

“I hope that if it comes down to it,” Kato said, smiling in a way that made Skye bristle. He didn’t trust that smile. Didn’t dare trust the man. “Thiscrazy idea of yours works. Bringing along the flash cannonsmighthave been a good idea—if you hadn’t sent away the only person that knew how to fix them.”

“I might not know as much about firearm crystal circuits as Taly,” Skye said, his heart twisting just at the mention of her name. That had no doubt been his brother’s intent. He was always poking at that wound. “But I’m hardly inexperienced. They’ll work.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel better.” Kato turned to Eula. “Doesn’t that make you feel better? Skye thinks that these rust buckets will work. Never mind that they haven’t been fired in centuries.”

Skye resisted the urge to bare his teeth. “Maybe if you haddeignedto help me this week instead of spending your nights drinking and gambling with the ensigns, we might’ve had time to test them. But since you didn’t, you don’t get to complain.”

Eula shot a disapproving glare at the lanky noble. Kato was tall and thin—just like Skye. They both resembled their mother in that regard, though that was where the similarities ended. “Was that really the best use of your time, Marshal?”

“I believe so,” Kato replied easily. “Ensigns have the best gossip, and since everyone just seemed to forget that we had a traitor in our midst, I took it upon myself to do some investigating.”

“We didn’t forget,” Skye said. Not with the attacks they had continued to weather, the people they had lost.

“Perhaps I misspoke then,” Kato said. “You didn’t forget. You just chose to do nothing.”

Skye glanced at his brother. “Eula,” he said, never taking his eyes off Kato. He inclined his head, listening to the shouts sounding from behind them. “I think they’re having trouble with the horses at the back of the caravan. Would you mind checking?”

Eula looked first to Skye, then to Kato. She sketched out a shallow bow. The two brothers had been butting heads all week, and she was smart enough not to come between them.

Skye listened to her footsteps as she marched to the back of the caravan. When she was out of earshot, he said, low and cold, “I thought I told you to drop this. Taly is not a defector—she’s my scout.”

That bastard was still grinning. “I didn’t say anything about Taly.”

“You didn’t need to. You’ve been skulking around, asking questions, and spreading rumors. Did you really think it wouldn’t get back to me? People are already on edge without you going around stirring up trouble, Kato. And yes,this—” Confronting him in the middle of the road when they both needed to be focused on keeping these people safe. “This is what I call stirring up trouble.”