Page 34

Evander

U pon returning to the camp, we stable the horses and quickly make our way to find Helara.

She’s overseeing the training of a few promising villagers.

Standing beside Garrith, her back is straight in her leatherarmor, charcoal hair piled atop her head.

She is striking in all black against the stark white of the snow surrounding her. The fearless rebel queen.

I let Quinn approach first, bowing his head in acknowledgment of our captain. He stands to the side, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other tucked behind his back, feet wide as he inspects the training.I take up a spot next to him and wait.

The captain breaks her gaze away from the new recruits. "You should release them, Garrith. It has been a long day and they have plenty of those ahead of them."

Garrith grunts in approval before stalking toward the villagers. His back is hunched as he moves away from the group. Helara turns toward us then, once Garrith is out of earshot.

"Commanders?" she says, her voice lilting up at the question. She is decked out in her midnight black leathers, a sword on either hip. Her bandolier stretches tight across her chest and is crowded with newly polished and sharpened blades. She’s ready for the upcoming battle. Ready to face the king again.

Quinn takes a hushed and hurried tone, visibly worried that someone will overhear what he has to say, though no one is close enough for eavesdropping.

"We saw a Guardian," he tells her, his face remaining blank while he stares out at the villagers.

Something sparks in her dark eyes—fear, perhaps.

Not once has this woman shown fear, not that I know of.

Even at the capital they spoke of her ferocity.

Though it was often followed quickly by how she fled.

Fled to save her people, fled to rise again, fled from the death and destruction the king wrought upon this world.

She looks around as she speaks and even with no one nearby, she appears wary. This close to the end, this close to getting everything she wants, she should be wary. Letting down your guard is too easy when victory seems in your reach.

"Let's speak of this in private," she remarks before setting off for the library. It’s probable there will be few people still out and about as dinner is nearing.

We stride through the doors and follow our captain to a back corner of the main room.

She stands away from the flickering fire that pushes forth a wall of heat throughout the room.

Instead, she tucks herself amidst the shadows cast from the sconces on the wall, her dark features barely readable.

There doesn’t appear to be anyone in the library as far as I can tell.

And if there is, we won’t be seen or overheard in this location.

There’s a musty scent wafting off the books that mingles with the smoky ash of the fire as we stand huddled together, a mass of black and brown leather decorated with blades amidst an armory of tomes.

She waits a few beats before speaking. I can tell, despite the shadows, that she’s listening—tuning her ears in to the sounds of the old building around us. Though we didn’t witness anyone as we entered, she is checking to be sure. I stop to listen as well, holding my breath.

The fire crackles, the logs within hissing and making short snapping sounds. But there is no whisper of flipping pages, no creaking of old wooden chairs, no footsteps. We are truly alone.

When she is satisfied of that fact, she straightens her back, pulling herself up to that full regal height.

She is a tall woman, and broad through her shoulders.

Definitelybuilt to be a fighter , I think as I look at my captain—or where my captain should be.

I can barely see her over here in the dark corner.

"You saw a Guardian?" she presses, her voice sharp.

I decide to take the lead and answer, well aware I know more about this topic than my friend."Yes. We happened upon it in a small grove about a day's travel from the Woods."

"And...you're both here." She’s quiet, pondering how this is possible. "You're alive."

A chuckle escapes my throat despite my attempt to remain professional. "It appears that way, yes."

"Strange," she responds, shifting in her stance. The unease is clear in the way she stands, the way she begins to fidget with the hilt of her sword, absentmindedly picking at the worn leather bound around it. I can hear her nails scratching the surface and know the reaction is odd for her. She’s always composed, consistently hiding her emotions without wavering.

Quinn crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at thecaptain in the dark, noticing the reaction as well.

But I’m too curious to let her statement go. "Strange that it let us live?" I clarify. "I'm fairly certain it didn’t see us before it was led away by a noise in the distance."

I can feel her dark stare poring over me, feel it without seeing her eyes.

"Yes, but stranger so that it was out so far from the Woods.

"I hear her boots shift on the floor before she continues. "It shouldn’t be so far. And it saw you, absolutely it did. But there was a reason it was there, and a reason it left you two alone.”

Quinn speaks then, his voice low and gruff. "Will it let us pass?"

Her nails are tapping rapidly along the hilt now. All her fidgeting is beginning to make me nervous. She doesn’t have the answers. Not this time. And it’s pushing her out of her comfort zone.

"It should. Or rather, it will let Bria pass and it might allow Silas. There’s a chance the two of you will be let in, or a chance you will have to stay back.

But it won’t attack you. You present no threat to the Guardians.

And delivering Bria back to the Woods should alleviate any instinct it has to protect the area," she explains.

At least that satiates my concern. For now.But not my curiosity about other things.

“If the Guardians are real, what about the other legends?” I ask, well aware that Helara knows a great deal about the days of old, when magic reigned over the world.

“It’s hard to say,” she replies, and when she speaks, stories of the Ancients, nymphs, and dragons, all swirl in my head.

“But it’s possible,” I add hopefully, desperately wanting to know how much truly exists in the magical home of the gods.

“Yes, it’s possible,” she responds softly before turning on her heel and striding to the door.

We follow quietly behind as she leaves the library, but when the captain points herself toward the inn, I peel off and head away.

“Do you plan on telling me about the other legends you and the captain were talking about?” Quinn asks as he steps beside me, the snow crunching loudly as he speeds up to match my brisk pace.

"At some point. But right now, I need a drink."

"I believe I offered that as an option last night and you refused.

Glad to see you've come to your senses." I know Quinn is just giving me shit for brooding all night—and this morning, for that matter. But I don’t care.

I need to get my mind off everything—the Guardians, whatever else lurks in the Woods, Bria. .. Silas.