Page 197 of Fate Breaker

“Corayne,” Andry muttered, wincing.

Her cheeks went pink. “Sorry.”

They both fell into uneasy silence, broken only by Dom and Sorasa’s errant sniping. Back and forth they went, Elder and Amhara, needling each other over everything and nothing. All the while, Dom stripped off his princely clothes, until he stood in only his thin breeches. Then, piece by piece, he donned his battle gear, slow enough to drive Sorasa into a rage.

Andry shuffled through his own things, neatly tucked away in the corner. It was a ramshackle collection. Elder-made armor, his own sword, the Jydi ax and wolf pelt. Along with his old tunic, washed clean, the blue star brighter than he remembered it could be. He laid it out flat on the table, smoothing over the fabric. The stitches ran beneath his fingers, the thread older than he was.

Corayne’s hand joined his own, just inches away. She ran a finger along the edge of the star, careful not to snag anything.

“We will make them proud tonight,” she said in a low voice. “Your father and mine.”

“We will,” Andry replied.

I hope.

After donning his own gear in the privacy of the corner, all was ready. But no one moved, hesitant to leave the armory. To face the coming storm.

Dom stood, massive in his green steel, his greatsword slung across his back like the Spindleblade slung behind Corayne. Across from him, Sorasa glared at her arm, picking at the chain mail beneath her leathers. It was not armor, but a good compromise, and she hated it. Charlie continued to twist at the waist, looking like a lord in a military parade, his brown hair freshly oiled and braided. Like Corayne, he would be far from the fighting, for however long he could be.

And Corayne stood alone, framed against one of the windows, the boards behind her bleeding red light. Her silhouette burned.

Andry eyed the Companions one by one, balancing the strangers he first met, and the friends he faced now. His throat tightened as he looked them over, memorizing every face.

The armory echoed with the distant sounds of the castle and the city. The Companions remained, frozen, unwilling to break the spell holding them all in place.

But we must move, Andry knew.

For a moment, his eyes slipped shut. When they opened again, he set his jaw, hardened his heart, and took the first step.

“With me,” Andry growled, making for the doorway.

The others did not hesitate.

“With me,” they echoed, one by one.

The castle blurred, the walls of stone and marble floors running like a river. More joined their throng, until Elder guards and mortal soldiers hemmed in the Companions. Andry saw nothing, heard no one, his bloodsurging in his veins. There was only Corayne at the corner of his eye, her armor etched with roses, the jewels of the Spindleblade glowing over her shoulder. Red and purple they winked, like a terrible sunrise.

Andry followed the others out onto the terrace in front of the castle. There was no mist today, only a bloody sky, turning redder by the second. Nothing hid the mountains from view. Nor the dark line of the legions picking their way steadily down the mountainside, the flash of their steel evident even to mortal eyes.

“Dom asked what I will do afterward,” he said softly, barely audible over the clank of armor. “After all this.”

Corayne stilled next to him, stopping to let the rest flow around her. Even Sorasa gave them space, if only a few yards.

“You believe there will be an afterward,” she murmured.

The wind blew cold and clean. One last gasp of freedom. Andry pushed against it, breathing in.

“I have to,” he said, eyes stinging. He knew he sounded foolish, but he spoke the words anyway. As if it would make them real. “I’ll go to my mother, to Nkonabo. The house with the fountains and the purple fish. She used to tell me stories of her kin, their lives. Our family.”

He expected Corayne to pity him. Instead, she took him by the hand, her gloves meeting his gauntlet.

“It will be wonderful,” she said, her grip tight. Her face tipped up to his, so close he could see the freckles spattered across the bridge of her long nose. “I always wanted to see Kasa too.”

Come with me, he wanted to say, so badly his heart ached.Come with me. Even if it is only a dream.

The wind blew harder, catching her long braid of black hair. Without letting go, she turned into the wind, a wistful look on her face. She stared, not to the army in the mountains, but south across the valley.

To the waters of the Long Sea.