“Not well enough to chase a skirt,” Aidan said. “You need rest.” He turned to Christine. “I need some time with my friend.”
She stiffened. “All right. I will wait for you in the other room.”
“You should go easy on her,” Daniel said after the door closed.
“She betrayed us. If it wasn’t for her—”
“I’m not denying that,” Daniel interrupted. “But she also tried to help me escape. She has some good in her, unlike her brother.” Daniel scowled. “By the way, if Garrett’s still alive, I’d really like a few words with him.”
“He escaped.”
Smiling, Daniel leaned back. “Good.”
Aidan sat at the foot of the bed. “A lot has happened.”
Daniel folded his arms as he listened. After Aidan finished, Daniel cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about your parents. They were good people, and they didn’t deserve to die like that.”
Aidan nodded.
“What will you do now?” Daniel asked.
“I’m going to take my throne.”
“Good plan. And then?”
“Repair the alliance with Darinia.”
“And then?”
“I’m going to find Tyrnen. And I’m going to kill him.”
“Now that is definitely a good idea.”
The two friends shared a wide grin, and for a few brief moments, the pressures of the challenges that lay ahead lightened.
“You can’t do this alone,” Daniel said, sitting up. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to get healthy,” Aidan said. “I know you want to help, but if you’re to be any use to me—”
“Already shuffling your loyal subjects around like toy soldiers, I see.”
“Only the impertinent ones.”
Daniel winked. “And after I’ve gotten plenty of care from the fair Ralda?”
Aidan stared at the ceiling. Avenge his parents, retake the Crown of the North. That was as far as his thinking had extended. “At dawn I leave for Calewind. Rest here for two days, then start home.”
“Two days!”
Aidan nodded firmly. “That’s non-negotiable. You need to heal, and you won’t miss anything exciting. I’ve got to mend matters with Nichel as soon as possible. Tyrnen tricked her as easily as he tricked me, and my parents. We’ve got a war to think about, just not against each other.”
He hesitated. “There’s something else.” He unbuckled the Serpent’s Fang and set it on the bed between them. “This is Dimitri Thalamahn’s sword.”
Daniel’s mouth dropped opened. “Where did you...?”
“Underneath the cabin. I need to watch over it, but I can’t take it back with me. There’s a chance Tyrnen could get his hands on it, so I need you to carry it back home.”
—This is not a good idea, Charles said.
Yes it is. We can trust him. If not for Daniel, I’d never have made it to the Prophet. He paused. He’s the only friend I have left, Grandfather.
He heard Charles sigh. —Very well. I just hope he handles blades more carefully than he handles toy wagons.
Daniel was leaning forward to inspect the Fang. He reached toward it. Aidan caught his hand.
“There is something you need to understand,” Aidan said. “If you touch the sword—”
“—I’ll lose my soul and suffer until the end of time, if not longer?”
“Actually, yes.”
Daniel pulled back his hand and laced his fingers together, as if to keep them leashed. “What can I do with it, then?”
“Leave it sheathed. Don’t remove the cover from the hilt.”
Nodding, Daniel reached for it, paused, then grabbed it and shoved it under the bed as if handling a hot coal.
“I’ll see it safely to Calewind. I promise,” he said, wiping his hands on his trousers. He leaned back on the bed, yawned, and crossed his legs. “What will you do about Christine?”
Aidan tensed. “What do you mean?”
Daniel shrugged. “I meant what I said. She tried to make up for what she did, even tried to stop a bunch of those smelly corpses from pounding on me when Tyrnen showed up. That’s what got her—what do you magical folks call it? Tied? Just give her a chance. Hear her out.”
“I will,” Aidan said, a little too quickly. “Since you think I should, I mean.”
Daniel fixed Aidan with a solemn gaze. “Go forth and conquer, Prince of Passion.”
Aidan left the room in a huff.
Chapter 31
Trust
CHRISTINE WAS SITTING ON her bed when Aidan entered, wincing as she gingerly ran a hand across her chest. She didn’t look up. Aidan leaned against the door after it closed, unsure how to proceed.
“You don’t need to say anything,” she said. She didn’t look at him.
“Yes, I do. I just don’t know where to begin.”
“Then let me start,” she said, rising to face him. “I know my betrayal was wrong, and if I could take it back, I would.”
Her words stunned him. “You would... take it back? Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but that’s not possible, is it? Your actions nearly cost Daniel his life. I trusted you.”
“I know, and that is important to me. Tell me how I can re-earn it.”
All of the sudden, Aidan felt very tired. He had traveled from near the northern peak of Crotaria deep into Sallner, had lost his parents—whom he still hadn’t had time to mourn—and been betrayed by his friend and mentor. Now he needed to return home and fight for a birthright he hadn’t even wanted.
“Should we even bother with this?” he asked, running a hand over his face. “I’m so tired of fighting, Christine, and I still have so much more fighting to do.”
“We should bother with this, yes.”
“Why?”
She took a step toward him. “Because of what you mean to me, and because of what I think I mean to you.”
He stepped away, raising his arms. “I don’t know what to say to that. For all I know, you made advances toward me to keep me in one place long enough for Tyrnen to—”
Her face nearly burst into flames. “First you call me a snake. Now you call me a—”
“Well, what would you think? You confessed to being hired to track me down. Your brother insisted that Daniel and I stay one more night in Tarion. I almost thought he would tie me to a chair if I refused.”
She nodded. “I suppose I can understand your doubt. I can only tell you that I do care, Aidan.” She took a breath to continue then winced, holding her ribs.
“What’s wrong?” Aidan asked.
Sitting on the bed, she managed a thin smile. “Do you think I decided to bruise my own ribs?”
“I don’t understand.”
“When Daniel and I tried to escape, Garrett caught us. He nearly beat Daniel to death. It wouldn’t have taken much to finish your friend off. He had suffered much already at my brother’s hands. I tried to stop him, but without magic...” She shrugged.
His eyes softened. “I didn’t know.”
She rubbed gingerly at her ribs. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ve been through too much. If you don’t believe that I care for you, maybe we should—”
“I care, too, Christine. Kahltan help me, but I do.”
He sat down beside her and took a few moments to put his words together. “I was running from my family. Well, I thought they were my family.” He shook his head. “Tyrnen and my parents wanted me to help orchestrate a war I didn’t believe in. I chose the path of least resistance. You know the rest. What I did at Sharem was... It was horrible. I was horrible.”
“You were tricked. It wasn’t your fault.”
Shaking his head, Aidan stood and walked to the window. “No. I mean, he did, but that doesn’t matter. I should have known better. It’s like you said: the Torelians are just one group of people under my care. What I did at Sharem can never be forgiven.”
He heard the bed creak as she stood. A moment later, her hand reste
d on his back. Her touch was tentative, as if afraid he might turn around and bite her. When he didn’t tense or shrug her away, the hand moved up to settle on his shoulder.
“Then what will returning home prove?” she asked.
He turned to her. She did not remove her hand. “I must return because the creature sitting on the Crown of the North is not my mother.”
He told her everything. “I need to take back my family’s kingdom and slay the creatures impersonating the two people I loved most in the world,” he finished. His eyes went flat. “And I need to confront Tyrnen.”
“For vengeance, or because the realms depend on your victory?”
“Both,” he admitted.
She looked away and withdrew her hand. “I am so sorry for my part in all of this, Aidan.” She folded her arms and tried to step away, but Aidan caught her hand.
“Did you suspect Tyrnen of any duplicity?”
“No. Retrieving you was a job.” She poked him and barked a humorless laugh. “And a fine-paying one, too.”
“Exactly,” Aidan said. “You did not know he intended to use you, just as I never suspected him of using me.”
“But I made my own choices, just like you.”
“Yes. And like me, you recognized your mistakes and tried to make up for them.”
She looked at his hand holding hers, back up to him. “That is why you are a good man. I care for you, Aidan Gairden. And I intend to see you alive through this.”
Aidan nodded, then put one hand on the flat of her chest above her breasts, mumbling under his breath. His other hand gripped Heritage. She blinked at his boldness—though she did nothing to remove his hand—then gasped as icy relief seeped into her battered chest. Aidan prayed again, and again Christine shuddered. The chill turned to warmth as it leaked into the pit of her stomach. It dwindled away after a few seconds, and as she opened her eyes, it was as though a world she had known and loved for so long was no longer separated from her by a vast ocean. “Did you...?” she began.
Aidan nodded and dropped onto the bed. “I trust you, Christine.”
Kindling, she gave an excited giggle as a small ring of flames danced between her hands. “Thank you,” she whispered. The flames blinked out of existence, and she walked to the bed to stand over him. “Do you trust me?” she asked.
“I already said I—”
“I need to hear it again,” she said, her tone insistent. “It’s important, Aidan. Please.”
“I trust you, Christine.”
She lowered herself onto his lap, kissing him softly at first, then harder as he returned her kiss.
Heritage buzzed at Aidan’s waist.
—I think this might be an appropriate time for us to leave you in peace, Charles said.
“Wonderful,” he murmured.
Aidan untangled his body from Christine’s as dawn lit the window. He slipped from the bed, then tugged the blankets over her. Dressing, Aidan crossed to the door then turned back to look at her. Her breathing was slow and steady. One bare leg stuck out from the covers. He stared at it, his heartbeat accelerating as he remembered her touch, how she had—
—She will return with Daniel, I’m sure, Charles said. Right now your focus must be on retaking Sunfall.
He slipped into the hall and closed the door, cutting her off from view. He resisted the urge to bolt back in and be with her again. Striding down the hall toward the common room, Aidan donned his hood, slowing at the sound of voice in the corridor.
“... come to say goodbye?” Ralda was saying. Aidan paused near the room’s entryway, listening.
“Aye,” a man said in return. “Orders came last night by messenger.”
“I saw him,” Ralda said bitterly. “He came in for a drink. Almost had him thrown out.”
“Now, Ralda,” another man said in a soothing tone. “It’s not his fault. He looked just as sour about it as I did.”
“I know,” she admitted. “It isn’t fair, that’s all I’m saying.”
“General Calderon and the Crown of the North need more men,” a third voice said. “And with the pay they’re offering, we’d be fools to pass up the opportunity.”
“A purse full of gold’s worth more than your life, is it, Harold?” Ralda’s tone had taken a scolding edge. “This war’s foolish. You said so yourself not even a week ago.”
“And I still believe it,” Harold answered. “But the farm’s not doing well, and I’m not a sailor. I need the money, Ralda, plain and simple.”
“You make it seem as if going to war is our choice, Ralda,” one man said softly.
“The fighting’s getting serious, that’s what he told me,” she said. “You know there’s a chance none of you will come home.”
“That it is. We’re supposed to invade Darinia by the week’s end,” Harold said.
Silence answered him, broken only by the sounds of shuffling feet and mugs scraping against the counter top.
“Excuse me,” Aidan said, stepping into view. Everyone turned to look at him. His face was concealed within his cloak.
“What can we do for you?” one spoke up at last.
“I couldn’t help but overhear that you were joining Torel’s Ward.”
“We are indeed,” one said. “And I reckon you are yourself.”
“Of course. We invade Darinia by week’s end, then?”
“That’s what we heard,” another said. “Right through Sharem, we’ll go. Others’ll be taking ships across the Avivan.”
“Torelian ships?” Aidan asked.
The man called Harold snorted. “Not unless you fancy walking along the bottom of the river. No, these are Leastonian ships,” the man finished, a mark of pride in his voice.
“The merchants’ guild sided with the Crown?” Aidan asked, amazed.
Another man shrugged. “Seems that’s way. Call to arms came just last night.”
“That’s why we’re leaving immediately,” another put in.
“Aye,” Harold said with a nod. “The threat of treason is as compelling as the Torelian coin.”
“Like what happened to Aidan.”
“Prince Aidan,” one corrected, drawing a deep harrumph from his friend.
“Not a prince anymore, is he?”
“Maybe not, but you still need to show respect toward—”
Aidan appreciated the man sticking up for him but didn’t wait around to offer his thanks. He crossed the common room in three long strides, bursting through the door and into the Lady’s light.
Chapter 32
Homecoming
AIDAN PLUNGED ACROSS THE continent, shifting from village to hilltop to city to plains like a stone skipping across water. He alternated between kindling from his lamp and the Lady’s warm, springtime light. He rested at night, but never inside walls where anyone might recognize his face and bring Wardsmen or worse down on him. Heat bubbles stitched from the light of his lamp were his blanket, the hollows of tree trunks his bed. Each night he forced his eyes shut and tried to push away thoughts of what awaited him at Sunfall, and to keep a quick but reasonable pace. He felt fully rejuvenated from his mad jump from Sharem to Sunfall, and he knew he would need every scrap of strength he could muster to confront Tyrnen and the harbingers.
Closing his eyes did him no good. The anxiousness that plagued his every step took root deep in the back of his mind and grew into monolithic fear that chased him through his dreams. He saw Tyrnen blast away his mother’s legs, and her look of fear as she scrabbled away from him on her hands. He saw the harbingers peel away the faces of his parents to reveal their puckered eye sockets and fleshy bars over their mouths.
On the morning of the fourth day, Aidan no longer needed to look out over the horizon and pick a spot to land from his shift. He knew where he was. He popped into existence in the woods a league south of Calewind, the very trees he had considered fleeing to on the morning of his birthday. Squinting, he saw forms in snow-white armor patrolling the walls and manning the pylons tucked in
to each corner of the city. He sipped light from his lamp and shifted just outside the tower he had crossed through on that fateful morning so many weeks ago, appearing in the lee of a stack of crates piled against the wall. A vendor’s stand stood in front of him. The wiry merchant himself juggled his wares in front of his booth, shouting prices to tempt passersby.
Aidan took a breath, pulled his hood low, and slid from the shadows and around the stand to slip into the traffic flowing through the south district. Feet and carriages churned away the last traces of snow and mush along the smoothly paved cobblestone. Vendors held up their wares from storefronts, proclaiming springtime sales and promising more goods once Leastonian merchants took to the roads again.
Frowning, Aidan glanced around. At first, winding through the capital city’s boulevards had helped him to relax. Calewind’s maze of shops and homes were as familiar to him as Sunfall’s dustiest rear passageways. Despite the dangers lying in wait for him, he was home. Now, though, something did not feel quite right. Unease settled over him like a too-heavy cloak. He heard shouts of vendors, the steady clomp of horse hooves, the creak of wagons rolling down roads. He did not hear the babble of voices that always filled the marketplace like the constant chatter of a stream running over rocks.
He looked around. The people scuttled more than walked, hustling to where they needed to go, and practically tripped from their haste to get inside. They kept their eyes to the ground, ignoring the calls of vendors and never stopping to talk to friends from far off who had not made the trip to the capital since the wind had grown chill. The few who did stop exchanged only a few words and spoke under their breath as if afraid of being overheard.
Aidan rounded a corner and collided with a man coming from the opposite direction. Out of habit he looked up to apologize, only to drop his eyes and hurry on. It was a Wardsman. Nine other Wardsmen fanned out around him. Frowning, Aidan stepped behind a shop and examined the group. Passersby edged around them like water cutting around a large rock. Each man carried a shield emblazoned with a family crest; the other fist gripped spear or sword. They strode through the crowd, eyes set straight ahead.
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