Page 184 of Keeper of the Word

“M’lord! We must think on that later! We must leave.” Joss grabbed his arm. “M’lord, I implore you. This is our chance.”

“Tolvar!” Crevan sprinted toward them, flanked by a half-dozen guards.

“We can take them,” Tolvar said.

“Nay, m’lord. For once, listen!” Joss tugged harder on his arm. Hux led the other arm.

“Lord Wolf, come now and fight another day.”

A shriek made everyone halt. In the doorway of a side door stood Jordain. Merely having her in his sights caused him to wince. “Go you nowhere!”

Tolvar did not need anyone else’s prodding. He charged through the door with the others to find the first group of Order knights they’d encountered, dressed as servants, in the outer courtyard. A score of Norwell’s guards stood on the ready, but the Wolf’s adrenaline kicked in. Fueled by its intensity and the fact that a dozen people had risked their lives to rescue him from Crevan’s clutches, Tolvar fought his way to the gate, suffering only a few blows.

The witch’s shriek rushed him along. He longed to be as far away from that creature as possible. He did not glance back, even though he knew Crevan fought to reach him and gained moment by moment.

Finally, they fled through the gate, finding Ghlee waiting for them. He led other knights on horseback. Tolvar threw himself onto Valko, an arrow narrowly missing him and his steed, and kicked the horse into action.

Tolvar galloped away from the fortress with a dozen riders by his side. Away from Crevan. Away from the witch. In another time, mayhap he might have felt cowardly for fleeing, for not doubling back to reclaim the Edan Stone before saving his own hide, but the fact that he breathed fresh air was all that mattered in this moment.

He’d held on. He’d not broken.

And most importantly, he realized as he gazed at the last traces of the purple dusk, he’d found and kept his faith.

Chapter

Sixty-Seven

ELANNA

She stood at the edge of the world. Nay, not the edge of the world. The edge of a thought. The end crept toward them like a rolling fog.

The StarSeers waited on the bluff, gazing at the horizon growing darker and darker.

No one moved.

“This is the night,” Casta said, holding Maristel against her, the child as somber as they were. “They are coming. I know they are.”

When this all ended, Elanna would sorely miss her ever-optimistic sister.

Elanna was not so confident.

The fortnight they had waited had been brutal.

While she’d been away Sybyll Walking—she still could not believe she had achieved such a feat—Kyrie and Casta had employed all their energy, all their powers, to plead with the stars. To help the others find success in rescuing Tolvar. The plan was perilous and had roles for everyone, including Hux. She did not fault Hux for leaving during her disappearance. If anything, it gave her more credence in who he was at heart. Still, there were many complications to the plan, and Elanna had spent the wait in prayer.

Casta’s confidence had not wavered, but Kyrie was much more sensible and, last night, had uttered, “Fortunes are never finite.”

Elanna’s stomach sank.

The wind kicked up, and it drew Elanna’s attention to the sliver of moon—almost waned into nothing. To the thought of the approaching Nay Moon of the Harvest Season.

Time was like the crescent moon itself. Expiring. They needed to make haste to Asalle and Tara.

If the stars had dictated a specific night to proffer a prophecy, they had but one chance.

She failed to keep her mind off Hux. Would he return? How many losses would they suffer in this rescue? How many losses would they suffer before the end?

A rider caught Elanna’s attention. One of the Order knights who’d stayed behind with them loped back from the valley where he’d ridden to scout for the return of the group. He shook his head.