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A few days later, I climb through the treetops to try and spot our pursuers again. What I find is worse than I ever could have predicted.

I half crawl, half slide down the tree, scraping the skin at my palms in the process.

“We have to go,” I say, packing away what remains of our lunch.

“What is it?”

“Dust. The sky is filled with it. I didn’t make sense of it at first, but—”

“Ravis’s army has begun their march,” Kellyn says.

“They shouldn’t have been ready yet! What is Ravis thinking?”

We leap atop our horses, urge them into a trot.

“He wants the element of surprise,” Kellyn muses aloud. “He’s marching, ready or not. If they don’t have enough food for their soldiers, they’ll likely loot Briska first. There’s only a meager city guard there. They don’t stand a chance.”

“We have to get to Skiro immediately. He can warn the other royalty with his portals. It’s the only way we can help now.”

It’s impossible to gallop with all the foliage. We push our horses as fast as we dare without causing them to trip or stumble. A broken leg on a horse is a death sentence.

We have the advantage, I reason. We’re on horseback while Ravis’s men are on foot. We’re taking a direct route to Skiro, while they’re limited to the roads.

We’ll get there first. Skiro will be warned.

I’ll find Temra laughing with Petrik, waiting for my arrival.

It’ll all be okay.

Pushing the horses faster only means they need to rest more. I ache to bedoingsomething. Traveling doesn’t feel helpful. It feels wasteful somehow.

And even though every step brings me closer to my sister, I grow more and more on edge.

“You’re confusing your horse,” Kellyn says one day, about a week into the journey.

I stop my fingers from tangling together, and the horse’s strides grow smoother beneath me. Poor thing wasn’t surewhether I wanted him to go or stop with the way I kept jiggling him about.

Over the next ten minutes, I realize I’m veering to the left.

“Your leg,” Kellyn points out.

It’s dancing in the stirrup, bouncing slightly up and down. My horse is moving away from the contact, thinking I mean for him to turn left.

“You shouldn’t be so worried. The prince’s army is barely noticeable in the distance. Our lead is growing.”

“Sometimes I don’t want to reach Skiro.” In fact, all I seem to be able to think about today is how badly I never want to reach Skiro.

“Why?”

“Because if Temra’s dead, then I’ll know. Not knowing is safer than knowing she’s dead. And not knowing is killing me. But if she is gone, I want to stay not knowing a little while longer.”

Kellyn’s voice grows quieter. “It’s better to know. Better for you to be allowed to grieve or celebrate. Not knowing will only tear you apart.”

“I don’t want to grieve again. I’ve already been through that. If Temra dies, I’ll have lost the rest of my family.”

“No,” Kellyn says firmly. “You’ll have me and Petrik. We’ll be your family. After what we’ve been through together, we’re already family.”

How can he say that after all that’s happened? I dragged him into the whole mess with Kymora. I called things off between us. He’s moved on. How can he say that he’ll be my family?