“I’ll be going as well,” Cass added from my right where he stood next to Nox. That drew raised brows from a few of the council members, their gazes snapping to my father.
“That’s a surprise, considering your job is to protect our newest king,” he said, his hands lacing together where he rested them on the table. “Would it not make more sense to stay here? We can choose another guard to go.”
“Because of thesensitivenature of the mission and the fact that the possibility of death is extremely high, I would prefer only those that I trust go, those who truly understand what’s at stake,” Nox countered, crossing his arms over his chest. It was hard to reconcile the man who had drawn his power in tight ropes around me for merely theideaof a perceived threat with the one who stands before me now, sweat dotting his temples as if he’s struggling to support his own weight.
“It makes sense.” That agreement had come from Councilman Hadrik.Hedefinitely appeared worse in the days since King Sadryn was forced away from the throne. I didn’t blame him. He had been blindsided by his fellow councilmembers—bymyfather—and given that he was Sadryn’s oldest friend, I didn’t doubt that there might be some animosity there that wasn’t before.
My father nodded, as did everyone else at the table. “Then the two of you have—”
“Three,” I had cut in as I drew my hands behind my back. “I’ll be going as well.”
Borris and Osiris had cut a glance to each other as Councilwoman Naji raised a brow in question. My father looked me over as he always did—like I was something to dissect. An experiment he could shred apart and mold into something new over and over again, expecting a different result but only finding disappointment in what always remained—me. “And what purpose doyouserve on this mission?”
“Daje is going to help ensure everyone’s safety but also act as liaison should anyone give them trouble in the border towns,” Nox answered. “Being raised as he was, he’ll know exactly what to say to any who might question their presence.” Given the secretive nature of the mission, it was not like we could send a missive of our impending arrival.
“Daje’s expertise will be needed as we are quite dumb,” Cass added, drawing a scathing look from Elora.
“Speak for yourself,” she murmured, tucking her book in at her hip. My lips quirked as her gaze met mine, pink flushing her cheeks before she looked away. My father had caught the interaction, his eyes bouncing from me to Elora before an unsettling expression contorted his face.
I prepared for his denial and mentally dug my heels in to fight back, but to my utter surprise, he simply said, “Fine. Then the council gives the three of you our blessing to go north and hopefully retrieve enough of this dragon glass to repair the Mirror.”
And that was that.
Now, a day later, we traverse on horseback through the thickly wooded forest, Elora riding in front of me after paling with one look at the beautiful mare offered to her. Apparently, riding had not been one of the many things she’d taught herself.
“How are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep a reasonable distance between our bodies, a tough feat considering there isn’t much room.
“Fine, and you don’t have to keep asking. It’s not likeI’mthe one being ridden.”
“Not with that attitude,” Cass drawls, earning a snort from Elora and a look from me. He winks, and I shake my head and look forward. “Don’t worry, Daje, you’re not exactly my type.”
“I didn’t realize you had a type. I just assumed you fucked anything that moved,” I retort. Elora laughs as she looks back at me, her cheeks rounded from her smile.
“It must pain you to know that my standards are at least high enough to exclude you.”
Elora tosses her hair over her shoulder, the scent of spicy cinnamon and vanilla hitting my nose a breath later. “If you guys are going to keep flirting like this, I’ll have to insist that I continue this mission alone.”
“I’m not flirting with him,” I say, gripping the leather reins tightly.
Cass brings his horse—a light brown mare with a white mane and tail—closer, a mischievous glint in his eye making me tense in anticipation. “It’s true. I’ve seen him flirt. It’s way worse than this.”
I might kill Cass before this mission is done. Though Elora tries to hide her laugh, the way her shoulders silently shake gives her away. I lean forward, just enough to speak low in her ear. “Don’t encourage his antics. He feeds off the attention.”
“You sound more like his dad than his friend,” she counters, keeping her gaze forward.
“Ouch.” I lean back again as she laughs and draws her hand down our horse’s mane. Feeling the weight of his stare, I turn my head towards Cass. He lifts a brow in question, his eyes darting towards Elora. I ignore him and look to the road ahead.
Everyone’s parents had met us outside the stables to see us off, all except for my father. His noticeable absence must have drawn pity from Sadryn because his hand had found a home on my shoulder as he handed me a map of places that were safe to stop at.
“Because of the increase in missing mages near the Fae Kingdom’s border, they are more aggressive to faces they do not know,” he had said, squeezing my shoulder gently. “Don’t assume that they will trust you simply because you are mage.”
I had heard about the missing mages from my father. But once he had realized that I could not be coerced into believing that Rhea had attacked me to stage her own escape, he had iced me out of everything.
“How much farther until we reach Kilmere?” Elora asks.
“A few more hours. Though we might want to pick up the pace,” Cass answers, his hand gesturing to the gray clouds showing through the gaps in the canopy. “I’d rather not have to guide the horses through a storm.”
It’s silent as we urge the horses to move faster, the day quickly melting into night before we reach the outskirts of Kilmere. Much like the training grounds, the small city is built in a clearing, the night sky opening up wide as we break through the treeline. Wind gusts in our direction, the air significantly chilled and carrying the scent of rain. Cass guides us to a two-story inn, its wooden sign lit brightly by two spelled flames flanking it. Green vines creep up its sides, a large pirang tree behind it with twisting branches that reach high overhead and are decorated with small spelled flames in glass orbs. The roads are fairly quiet, most patrons either already inside the variousestablishments that dot the roadway or home given the late hour.
