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Morgana

“ H urry. I don’t know how long we have.” My whispers sound too loud in the hushed air of the camp. I help Tira shove the items she’s carefully gathered over the last few days into her pack—food, a few Filusian coins, anything that will help us get back to the border and home to Trova.

First, however, we have to get away from the seven highly trained fae sleeping around us.

They unbound us after we crossed over into Filusia.

I can only suppose once they didn’t need to worry about either of us trying to attract a border patrol, they were less nervous about letting us off the leash.

The same went for my magic. It returned to me two days after we crossed.

As Etusca’s potion wore off, the familiar heat burned through my veins, begging to be released.

The fae didn’t make me take any more potion.

Leon claimed it was a friendly gesture to encourage peaceful cooperation as we traveled through fae country.

I think in truth none of his friends could stomach it—the idea of holding me down and forcing it down my throat—when just days ago we ate together, slept in the same cabin, played cards, and exchanged jokes.

Leon might be a heartless monster, but at least his unit have some shame.

I did what I had to.

I can still hear Leon saying it—and every time those words come back to me, I feel the same rage, the same stab of betrayal I did in that moment. But I can’t let my anger distract me now. This moment is too crucial.

I secure my own pack to my back, then Tira and I rise, silent as ghosts. That is, until I have to stop her nearly tripping over a thick tree root.

“Watch out,” I hiss, pointing it out. Tira pauses and throws me a grateful glance before we tiptoe cautiously around the tree.

Thankfully, the mossy earth muffles our steps.

Filusia’s foliage is thicker, lusher, more colorful than Trova’s, but all I care about is that it swallows the sound of our movements as we reach the edge of the camp.

“Where is he?” I murmur, and Tira points to a figure lying on the ground.

Since my magic returned, they’ve been watching me more closely than Tira. They see me as more of a threat. Seven military-trained fae against one solari might be good odds for them, but I could still do some damage before they managed to stop me.

As they kept an eye on me, Tira has been able to linger in places unnoticed. Such as by the horses, slipping items out of the saddlebags we’ll need for our journey.

Or slipping something into them.

At the edge of the camp, we reach the figure of Stratton slumped over beside a tree trunk.

“You used the plant?” I whisper to Tira. That was the plan, but I want to be sure.

“Yes. You think it worked well enough?” she murmurs back.

“Seems so. Leon only ever gave me a few leaves. The amount I gave you should hopefully knock him out for hours. Maybe they won’t notice we’re gone until morning.”

We’re lucky the plant Leon used to put me to sleep before he trained me grows here too.

It wasn’t so hard for me keep an eye out, grab a sprig of it, and pass it to Tira.

They usually let us eat in peace alone, at the edge of the group.

Even Etusca has given up trying to speak to me after I’ve blankly ignored her for four days.

Now we watch as Stratton’s chest rises in even motion, his eyes moving slightly beneath his closed lids. Beside him is an open wine flask.

After they drugged me in my sleep, I refuse to eat or drink anything the fae give me before Tira checks it first. But the fae haven’t been so cautious with their own food.

Though we’re traveling through Filusia, we’ve still been camping outside, avoiding big towns for some reason no one has bothered to share with me. Not being wanted criminals, like we were in Trova, does mean the supplies have suddenly gotten much better, including proper meals and plenty of wine.

It’s been a tense evening of watching Stratton, wondering if he’d notice something was off every time he took a swig of the wine from his saddlebag.

But the fae wine is full-bodied and aromatic, and Stratton seemed totally unaware of any foul play as he settled down to play guard.

Now we carefully navigate around him, toward the collection of horses happily resting among the trees.

“Here, take its reins,” Tira murmurs to me. It’s a risk to steal a horse, given neither of us is particularly adept with them. But the fae will discover we’re gone eventually, and we don’t stand a chance of outrunning them on foot.

I look nervously back toward the camp. No movement, only shadowy figures lying wrapped up on bedrolls, dreaming the night away. The horse we choose is Phaia’s, a good-natured, peaceful animal. I thank the gods when it only huffs lightly as we coax it awake.

“There, good girl,” I whisper, patting it on the nose.

“If only I could say the same for you.”

Tira and I freeze, and as we lock eyes, my heart sinks. Slowly, I turn to see Leon standing ahead of us. Even in the moonlight, I can see the hard set of his face, like someone preparing for an unpleasant chore.

“It wasn’t very nice of you to go and drug Stratton like that,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.

I laugh bitterly. “Right. What kind of monster would drug someone in their sleep?”

My voice is harsh to my own ears, but I can’t speak to him any other way these days, if I talk to him at all. A flash of emotion crosses his face, but I don’t analyze it. I refuse to be drawn into his attempts to provoke me.

“Step aside, Leon,” I say.

“You know I can’t do that, Morgana.”

Morgana. That’s what he calls me now. I’ve forbidden him from using Ana. Only the people I trust get to use that name, and that list of people is vanishingly short. I don’t imagine Leon will ever be on it again.

“Let us go,” I demand. I use the rage bubbling inside me to find the heat of my sun beam power, letting the golden glow of it dance between my fingers. “I don’t want to have to use this,” I warn him, “but I will.”

“On the contrary, I think you’d very much like to burn my face off right now,” he says with a slight tilt to his head.

I shrug. He’s right, but that doesn’t mean it makes sense to do it.

All Tira and I want is to be left alone, to find my old friend Will and lie low until we can figure out what to do next.

Mortally wounding one of Filusia’s princes won’t help those plans.

It won’t help us stay free—and that’s all I care about right now.

“You have no right to keep us captive,” Tira snaps. “Ana is the heir to the Trovian throne, no matter what her aunt says. You’re attacking Trova by keeping her here.”

“Your country has long misjudged what’s best for it, and Morgana is doing the same,” Leon replies before turning to address me. “For the hundredth time, it’s not safe for you to return to Trova without protection. You’ve still barely begun getting a handle on your magic and?—”

“Stop it!” I’m sick of his explanations, his insistence that he knows what’s best for me. I thought he was different from Etusca and all the others who told me I needed to be locked up and held captive. But he’s just like them.

My yelling has woken the other soldiers, who swiftly jump to their feet, looking for the source of danger. Stratton is the only one who remains snoozing on the ground.

“I don’t need your protection,” I say to Leon. “I spent twenty-one years having my freedom kept from me. I won’t give it up now.”

“And what, I’m supposed to let you go wandering the Filusian countryside alone? You wouldn’t even be able to find the border again without our help.”

I stare at him, frustrated and infuriated that he doesn’t get how serious I am. Or maybe he really just doesn’t care.

“We’d find a way.”

He eyes us. “You know, we could just bind and gag you both until we get to our destination. We still have those dimane bindings from the border.”

I bare my teeth at his threat. “There’s a reason you didn’t try that with me before. You know what kind of damage I could do before you got those bindings anywhere near me.”

Leon sighs and drops his arms.

“Then what will it take? What can I say to convince you to cooperate?”

“Nothing. You can refuse to let us go now, but know that if you do, we’ll never stop trying to escape.”

He doesn’t look angry, more disappointed, and that unnerves me.

“I believe you,” he says. “So I’ll make you a deal.”

A deal? My anger flags as I struggle to figure out how to respond.

“What kind of deal?” Tira asks suspiciously.

“If Morgana can prove to me that she can defend herself, and therefore protect both of you, I’ll let you both go free. You can return to Trova, and neither I nor any of my soldiers will follow you.”

“I just have to prove I can defend myself? How?” I ask, wary.

“You’ll fight me, one-on-one. That’s better odds than trying to go up against all of us.” He gestures to his soldiers, who are gathering near us now. I see Etusca toward the back of the group, looking frightened.

I hesitate, weighing the offer. Even on his own, I know Leon is very powerful. Fighting him won’t be easy.

“So we go free if Ana wins,” Tira says. “What if she loses?”

“Then she must continue with us to our destination, where I’ve arranged for her to get more help with her magic.

I want her word that if she loses, she’ll cooperate on the journey and won’t attempt any more escapes.

As for you, Tira, frankly you’re already free to do as you wish.

If you want to go, then go. The Temple may want you dead, but hardly anyone can identify you, and you have a much smaller target on your back.

Returning to Trova wouldn’t be so dangerous for you. ”

Tira scowls. “I’m not going anywhere without Ana.”

Leon nods. “That’s what I thought.”