*****
About an hour into the journey, Braxton’s already wishing he’d taken the time to have a proper meal—and that he’d worn a heavier coat. The spring leaves on the trees have already created a thicker canopy than usual for this time of year, blocking out most of the sun’s warmth. Fragments of sunlight shine through the leaves but don’t quite make it down to the forest floor. That, coupled with the crisp gusts of wind, makes for a less-than-ideal journey. Xerin, of course, wouldn’t notice this because, well, he’s a horse.
When they finally reach a crossing at a stream, Braxton yells out a warning to Xerin, then brings Whitley to a stop. He jumps off, searching for berry bushes and fruit trees—hoping that something might be ripe given the early season—but no such luck. He swipes his canteen from his knapsack and goes to the stream to fill it. Keeping his focus on the container, he shouts over the rushing water, “I may need you to turn into a bear or a wolf or something and catch us some food. I can get a fire started . . . ”
But when he turns to look over his shoulder, Xerin is nowhere to be seen.
ARDEN ELIRI
THINGS BETWEEN HASKELL and I have been . . . awkward, to say the least. Even though we’re in this together—what with finding out we may share a bloodline with the Tymonds—things have been tenser than ever. If he’s feeling anything like I am, then he’s probably convinced himself that he’s completely alone in this and that it’s something he’ll have to deal with on his own. A solitary endeavor.
It’s not a good place to be, believe me.
Today is a rare day because we happen to be in the woods. Together. Every time Haskell transports to get supplies, he’s asked me to come along, mostly in case something goes wrong. It’s not the most honorable of intentions—transporting to different regions to steal food, clothing, and weapons—but as refugees hiding out in Lirath Cave, we don’t have much of a choice. I do give him credit, though, because seeing as spring is upon us, his first attempt is always to catch his own game to cook for our meals. It’s only when he doesn’t succeed that he prepares to transport.
Today is one of those days.
“You’ll only take what you need?” Even though I’m staring at the back of his head, I can sense his eyes rolling. “Haskell, did you hear me?”
He briefly glances over his shoulder. “Yes, only what we need.”
I stop in my tracks as Juniper skips ahead of me. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that—like I’m completely useless or something.”
“You know that’s not how I meant it.” He continues walking. “You have to remember, I’ve been doing this for a long time. I just need you to trust me.”
“Maybe one of these days you’ll actually take me with you because you want to, instead of seeing me as just back-up,” I mutter under my breath.
Clearly having heard me, he turns around. He slowly crosses his arms, as if to emphasize how immature my behavior is. “Your job is to wait here until I get back. I’m sure there will be plenty for both of us to carry. Can you do that for me?”
I shrug before reluctantly nodding my head.
“Where to this time?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t say Trendalath. I’m getting tired of the stale bread, mealy fruit, and day-old fish. I could really go for some ripe mangoes and apples, and fresh fish that actually tastes like fish. “What about the Isle of Lonia?”
He shakes his head. “No can do. I’m afraid Lonia is off limits.”
I roll my eyes. “Is Lonia also too dangerous?”
“If you really must know, I would love to go to Lonia, but I’ve never been. And if I’ve never been, I’m unable to transport there.”
It all makes sense now. “So that’s why all the food tastes the same—because it is the same.” I sigh. During my time with the Cruex, I’d gotten to know the neighboring towns of Trendalath pretty well—Declorath, Chialka, Miraenia—and I’d also learned that each one heavily depends on the kingdom to provide food. Aldreda had made it her mission to ensure that the kingdom’s leftovers were rationed on a weekly basis between the three towns—although after the feud with Miraenia, perhaps they were only rationing between two. But, with Aldreda now gone, I’m guessing any goodwill has been removed entirely.
“Could you at least try Miraenia?” I plead. “We’ll have a better chance of scoring fresh game and ripe fruit.”
He raises a brow. “It’s usually harder to come by, but I’ll do my best.” He keeps his distance from me, readying himself for the journey ahead. “Please. Do us both a favor and stay put.”
I heave a loud sigh as he disappears from view.
*****
I must have dozed off because when I wake, it’s nearly sundown. I’m immediately shaken from my hazy state when I realize that Haskell still isn’t back—at least, I don’t think he is.
He can’t be. He would have seen me. I listened to him and stayed here, just like he asked.
A tremor of panic rises in my chest, even more so when I realize that Juniper isn’t anywhere near me. My senses heighten as I begin to search the woods.
“Juniper!” I call out. “Haskell!”
Each step brings with it a new level of unease.
I rush back to Lirath Cave, hoping with every fiber of my being that my brother will be there cooking dinner, with Juniper curled up in her usual spot underneath the bench by the fire. But when I arrive, the cave is completely dark. No flickering torches. No ash floating in the air. No campfire smell.
Fear surges through me.
I race back through the trees, returning to the spot where I’d last seen Haskell. I heave a jagged breath as I frantically search the area. I look for footprints, both human and animal, but come up short. I extend my search deeper into the forest, cursing the descending sun for setting so quickly.
And then . . . twilight falls around me.
I’ve been here before.
I know this feeling.
I brace myself for what’s next, but it doesn’t come. Confused, I spin in a circle, yelling out Haskell’s name, only to be greeted by silence. I sink to my knees and smash my hands against the ground. An array of broken twigs, leaves, and wilted flower petals stick to my sweaty palms. I try to get a grip on myself, but it’s all just too much. My family—my real family—is gone.
DARIUS TYMOND
AS HE’D INSTRUCTED, Cyrus is waiting for him at the bottom of the Volkharn cliff. He jumps to attention at the sight of the king, hurrying over to retrieve his staff and usher him into the carriage. Darius subtly expresses his gratitude before leaning back into the velvet-cushioned interior, gazing out the window as Cyrus readies the horse to head back to Trendalath.
Between twilight and the dim lighting in the carriage, Darius ought to have fallen asleep, but his mind is reeling. He goes back and forth the entire ride, not realizing they’ve arrived at the gates until the horses come to a sudden halt.