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The entitlement dripping from his words makes my stomach churn, anger sparking like a flame catching dry wood. I say nothing, but my silence feels like its own kind of defiance. Still, he seems content, as though he’s already decided I’ll fall in line with his demands.

He truly is an idiot.

My breath catches as the memory fades.Iwas the one who was an idiot. I’d known he was dangerous and yet I never took him seriously.

Still, how could I have known he was the dark god?

His true nature helps to explain why he’s so convinced I will help him. Not just because I know where his grimoire is, but because he believes infate.

I snort, petting Hope’s neck as she echoes the noise. I wonder if Calysian will still believe in fate when he learns just who he is and how much was taken from him.

My distraction costs me, and it takes me too long to realize someone’s following me. I pull Hope to a stop, both of us panting.

“Come out,” I say, my hand a ball of flame.

Calysian wouldn’t bother hiding, which means it’s likely a soldier—

Huge eyes stare at me, wet with tears. The girl is covered in blood, and she sways dizzily on her horse.

“They’re both dead,” she says, her voice empty. “Dead.”

“Fliora.” My lips are numb as I stare at her, and she stares back at me. Devastated. Heartbroken.

She must only have seen ten or eleven winters, and she looks even smaller than when I first met her earlier today, as if some of the life has been sucked from her bones.

Slowly, her head turns, as if she can hear something I can’t. Her gray eyes lighten until they’re almost white. “He’s coming,” she says. “I can show you where to hide.”

I follow her off the trail to a small clearing. The forest is dense but not impassable, and I dismount, guiding my horse into the undergrowth and willing her to stay still.

“How did you find me? How did you avoid the soldiers?”

“I know this forest well. I used to live near here. With Mama…” her lip trembles, and she gazes up at me.

I wrap one arm around her shoulder and she leans into me. When she stiffens, I release her, and she turns, pointing.

“He’s coming.”

We’re only a few footspans from the trail, close enough that I can still see glimpses of the path through the trees. The sound of a galloping horse cuts through the forest—it has to be Calysian. Blood roars in my ears, but I crouch next to Fliora, steadying my breath.

If he dismounts and searches, he’ll find us instantly. But he won’t.

Calysian expects me to be fleeing, putting as much distance between myself and this forest as possible. And if not for Fliora, I would be.

The undergrowth around us is thick enough to break up our shapes, to blur the outlines of us and our horses into shadow and brush. Not enough to be impenetrable—but enough that, at full speed, Calysian’s gaze will be fixed ahead.

At least I hope it will.

Hooves thunder past, the sound fading into the distance as he rides past us. I let out a long breath and survey the girl in front of me. She’s covered in blood, her face white. Now that she’s found me, I can see the realization of what happened slowly seeping into her.

“We’ll stay here tonight,” I say gently. “I stole plenty of food from Calysian.”

His horse tried to bite me, but I gave him an apple and he settled down.

I continue talking, telling her about the horse, about the troll, about anything I can think of. My words seem to give her something to focus on as we set up camp. We’re close to a small stream, and I hand Fliora soap and one of my spare tunics. “You need to wash. But I’m not sure if it’s safe to build a fire.”

“It is.” Her eyes are dazed. “The soldiers have gone, and the dark god travels north.”

I go still. “You know who he is?”