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Likewise, I had made it clear that I sought no reports about the acorn, as it pained me too much to know the particulars.

For the past two years, they had delayed unveiling the acorn. I had understood their reasoning and given my permission.

“Do what you must,” I’d told them.

I rode harder, the wind tossing about my courser’s mane.

A thief had wooed me in order to deceive me. I should have foreseen this, sensed this deceptive nature in her, and yet my ability to predict had been depleted over these weeks. She had done a supreme job of lying without lying, without the evidence lengthening the tip of her nose. That skill, she must have mastered long ago.

For a fragile moment, during this intermission in the treehouse colony, I had almost been convinced that redeemability existed. Rather, I should not have forgotten the permanence of villainy.

I would not forget again.

I galloped across Autumn, my steed pounding through the brush. We relied on my knowledge to gauge a destination and employed the sky as a compass. I knew not how long we persisted until I saw what I needed to see.

The creature circled above on a majestic span of wings, its ruffled shape cutting through the clouds in an unbroken circumference.

The courser disengaged from the gallop on my command. I flung myself off her back, the soles of my boots hitting the floor. Tilting my head, I whistled and offered the crook of my arm.

The creature obeyed. Its descent buffeted my collar as a pair of talons hooked onto me, landing in a graceful swoop. The hawk perched proudly, the obsidian tic of its eyes leveling with mine. The watch hawks of Mista had established themselves as fellow knights in their own right, sentinels of the stronghold and soldiers of the Crown.

I’d been prepared to travel for days, but if my proficiency in protocol had led me in this direction, and if the hawk prowled this area, that meant one of the search parties journeyed near at last. The atmosphere whirled with activity, with signs of the company. A flutter of despair, a flight of determination.

The troops wereverynear, indeed—and with them, my sovereigns.

An inhalation seized my lungs. Once I did this, I could not undo it.

Yet this had always been the path forward, had it not? It would have come to this, whether or not I had meant to liberate the girl. I would have returned with Nicu and with a tale of our own.

Aspen’s face teased the boundaries of my heart, testing its limitations. I saw a greedy smile and heard a playful huff, remembered a tender confession and a bold touch.

I stamped the imagery into the ground. No longer did she deserve my loyalty. No longer would she task my reserves. No longer would I neglect my duty, nor ignore her crimes.

Once upon a time, she had meant nothing to me. I would make it so again.

The hawk awaited my order.

“Brother-in-arms,” I said. “I have news. Take me to them.”

***

Shedid not see us coming.

As the sun shrank beneath the canopy, we rode through a gateway of oaks. The crests of Mista swung from the embroidery of cloaks, from the weave of banners, from the inlay of shields. A great drum of hooves upset the woodland, punching my thoughts into the soil like a chant.

Liar. Thief. Puppet.

With this cacophony, a squadron of knights followed my lead into the treehouse colony. I felt the weight of our entry in my knuckles and saw nothing but the hollow of a glade where she and I had trained, the swings that we’d met upon. In these places, we had spoken of matters and yearnings that I no longer cared to recollect. Those encounters had been a temporary fancy, back when I held them dear.

Our arrival tore through the fabled silence. With my comrades in tow, I saw myself as an invader rather than a savior, the knowledge pulling at my conscience.

But then I saw her.

She was the first to emerge from her hideaway, notified by the frantic tweet of Punk from the lookout tower. Stepping from her doorway and crossing to the center of an overhead bridge, Aspen’s baleful eyes traveled over the area in confusion, then fixed on our legion of swords, then widened as we barreled into full view with flying Autumn colors.

Even from afar, I saw fear thrashing within those eyes. I noticed the moment when she realized what was happening, the shock of a frightened creature caught in a trap. Her gaze plowed through the troops, treading a fine line between terror and hope.

She is searching for me. She wants to know that I’m not a part of this.