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He held my gaze, his glittering eyes missing nothing. “What makes you think I have magic?”

“I sensed it on the ship. You lock me out of your head each time I try to be the justice speaker, and this constant battle serves no one.”

The fight was exhausting. The last day and a half had drained my energy, with the constant probing against his defenses. But perhaps he was exhausted, too.

The mage chain around Kion’s wrists rattled as he walked, and he said, “I want the same, Senaria.”

The sun was sharp-edged but warm, while the trees beckoned with a promise of shade, and we were two normal people walking along the same road, sojourners sharing a pleasant interlude without hostility or a past no one wished to mention. I said, “Nikki calls me Senna.”

“What does the king call you?”

“Silk.”

“What name do you prefer?”

I stared at his brutally neutral expression, learning nothing, before glancing away. “Where are we going?”

“Toward a road that can take us back to Thales.”

“But it can take us to other places as well, can’t it?”

His stride lengthened. “It can take us to a town where we’ll find shelter. Thales is several days of hard travel from here.”

“We’re close to the frontier?” Where my father spent a good part of his life, researching as a scholar and a scientist. In the field, digging up relics, chasing rumors and myths of ancient things that no longer existed. In service to the king.

Kion was staring toward the horizon, his eyes slitted as he focused. “Hurry.” Urgency darkened his voice. “More falcons are coming.”

My legs wobbled. My feet protested. When I searched the blue sky, there was nothing but the dulling of the sun, as if a storm cloud passed by. “How do you know?”

“Their energy is like ice.”

His hand closed around my arm; I flinched.

He grunted, relaxing his grip as he changed our direction, slicing through the grass toward the rim of trees.

I stumbled, gritting my teeth against the pain.

Followed him into the shadowy forest while the sky filled with angry, screeching birds on the hunt.

The rushing sound of their wings beat against the highest tree limbs.

Leaves from the upper branches fell, then broken twigs.

I held up an arm to shield my face while tree roots bulged, tripping me.

The flock swooped overhead, circling. Kion dragged me deeper into the woodland gnarled with ancient trees. His hold on my arm remained steady until we reached a meadow where a hobbled brown horse waited. A stream gurgled nearby.

“How?” I swung toward him, gasping for breath. His stance was solid but relaxed. Nothing about him said he was out of shape or winded from the wild race. Beatings and mage magic did not dull him. Unless this was Kion Abaddon dulled, his power neutralized .

“I have men about,” he said evenly. “They’ve posted horses at different locations. They’ll understand where we’re going when they miss the horse.”

The power in him vibrated against my skin. I forced myself to swallow, to keep my voice normal. “You have men who knew the red priests had captured you?”

His gaze turned distant and hard. “They knew I was on the ship.”

I moistened my lips. “Were they the men who attacked?”

“I never denied I came alone.” His hand tightened against the horse’s back to hold the animal steady. “Does it matter?”

“It might matter to the king.” And he’d lied earlier, when he denied involvement…said the attack was the work of pirates or red priests. Other rebels.

I sucked in a breath and asked, “Did you know the man who helped you up?”

His eyes flickered. “Get on the horse, Senaria.”

I took a step back. “No.”

“Your feet are bleeding. You can’t walk let alone run. I’d rather not force you.”

I barked out a laugh, but he was already lifting me onto the horse, swinging into the saddle behind me. As he gripped the reins and kicked the animal’s flanks, he said, “The falcons are circling back. Keep your head down.”

We rode for several hours. The mage birds, unable to find their quarry, turned south, and Kion slowed the lathered horse to a plodding walk. He said we were beyond the reach of the mage magic, and he’d kept his arms around me, holding the reins and controlling the horse.

The mage chain from his shackles draped across my thighs, but the sizzle of magic wasn’t painful; the weight anchored me in place, and after a while, my stiff posture turned exhausting.

I leaned against him, unable to recall a time when a man actually hugged me.

My father did. And Nikki offered one-armed hugs that were brotherly.

Ildoran had gripped my arm on the ship, but not to comfort, and Tarian had placed his hand against my cheek.

Even through the veil, I’d trusted the king without question, so maybe that counted as a hug.

But the strength in Kion’s arms was hard to shrug away. I hadn’t wanted to be comforted, but comfort was what he offered. When I tucked my head against his throat, the protective warmth sank in with feminine awareness. A tensing in the nerves where I’d never expected the sensations.

I didn’t want to be weak, but I was, and the realization infuriated me. His scent was one of leather and fire and a spice that teased each time I breathed. The curve of his shoulders made me want to nestle against him like a sleepy cat seeking warmth, when he could take his arrogant manliness and—

“Stop shifting,” he growled. “You’re throwing the horse off his stride.”

The tone of his voice jabbed, and I said, “Stop holding on so tightly.”

“I don’t want you to fall.”

“And ruin your grand plan?” Whatever it was, because if I fell, he’d have the chance to ride away—wouldn’t he? Escape and find his men?

Leave me behind, at the mercy of mage falcons?

He heaved a sigh, and said, “I’m too tired to get off this horse and pick you up.”

Either his exhaustion or my fatigue forced me to face a truth: he was protecting me from the hunters. Saving me again, and the debt would continue to build until I would owe him his freedom. Maybe that was his plan.

I shoved guilt aside and admitted, “I’m staying on the horse. My feet hurt too much to walk.”

Thankfully, Kion did not bring up the dead man’s shoes, but the pressure of his gaze against my nape had prickles rising on my skin.

Through the canopy of leaves, the sky was losing the light. Shadows deepened and the night would arrive soon enough. The horse blew out a noisy breath, his head bobbing. I suspected the animal’s exhaustion was equal to that of the prisoner when Kion shifted his weight and pulled on the reins.

The horse turned toward a break in the trees. The landscape leveled out, and when the animal halted, Kion dismounted with ease. He gripped my waist, then carried me toward the stream rippling in the last of the silvered light.

“Soak your feet.”

I obeyed, settling on a smooth rock. The surface still held warmth from the departing sun, while the water, crystal clear and fast running, sent chills along my legs. I tugged the leggings higher to keep them dry. Wiggled my toes. Sighed at the relief flowing through me.

While I soaked, Kion removed the saddle and brushed the sweaty hair along the horse’s spine. Then he fastened hobbles around the animal’s front legs, no different from the shackles around his wrists. Both of them—animal and man—moving about despite the restraints.

I kicked at the water; the drops splatted and disappeared. Loose hair annoyed me; I gathered the strands, worked at fashioning a braid.

“Here.” Kion crouched down and held out a thin strip of leather. “Tie your hair.”

“Thank you.” I brushed my fingers against his palm and snatched my hand back.

“I’m going to hunt,” he said. “Will you be here when I return?”

My face heated, because if I left while he was gone, he’d no longer be my prisoner. The question was merely his polite way of asking if he should hunt for one or for two.

I stared at the braid as I tied the thin leather strap. “I’ll be here.”

“Keep your feet in the water. I’ll bandage them before we eat.”

His tone had dulled, and I might have murmured a second “thank you.”

But Kion faded into the shadows as the words left my lips, and then I was alone, tipping my head to stare at the sky. No framing windows or crenelated walls limited the view. No confining castle. No soldiers standing guard, or mage priests in their red cassocks.

Wasn’t this the freedom I wanted?

My lungs filled with the evening air. For the first time since I’d left Sevyn in a ruined priest’s chapel, I breathed without the weight of worry.

From the reeds beside the stream, a frog croaked.

Fireflies flitted through the foliage. A familiar chirp floated from the trees and I searched the leafy branches for Bogo.

“How do you find me?” I murmured, still unable to spot him. He was cautious with Kion around. And the horse. Bogo had always been shy, rarely showing up if Nikki was with me.

The horse blew out a breath. Time slipped by, and when Kion returned, he stomped heavily so I wouldn’t startle. My knife was in his hand, along with the two plump ground hens he’d snared for dinner.

He cleaned and spitted the meat, built a low-burning fire, and I sat with my feet in the stream, feeling useless.

“I can walk,” I lied when he carried me back to the fire.

“Sit.” He dropped me onto a large rock, smooth enough, while he opened the saddlebag and arranged the contents. A jar of salve. Strips of cloth. His hands were firm, but his touch was gentle with the salve, providing instant relief.

“What is that?” I asked.

“A common remedy.” He wrapped my feet, tying the bandages. “Stay off your feet until we get you some shoes.”

“Not a priest’s shoes.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re too sensitive to their magic.”

“Where are we going? ”

“By tomorrow evening, we’ll reach the Black City.” Close to where he’d been captured, and Tarian needed the King’s Guard and several mage priests to get him back to Thales.