"Dinnae worry so much. I already got what I wanted from me life, more than a man like me could have ever dreamed of." He twitched, grimacing slightly, and closed his eyes, though he opened them again a moment later. "Ye asked me… ye asked me what I'd want tae do if there was no war. If we were free."
"Aye. Aye, and if ye let me save ye, we'll find a way for ye tae do it," Breana told him desperately. "Eoin, please…"
"All I ever wanted tae do since the day I met ye was tae kiss ye, Breana. Tae show ye even slightly how much ye've captivated me heart, me soul, me mind." His breathing was more shallow now, and his voice less strong. "Ye gave that tae me. Thank ye."
Breana's heart felt like it was shattering into tiny pieces in her chest. The shards that remained were more painful than the wound on her head, more overwhelming than any damage that the world could ever inflict upon her. "That wasnae a dream, nae really," she told him. She leaned down and pressed her lips against his forehead. "It was just a moment, Eoin, just onemoment in a lifetime of a million of them.That'swhat ye should dream of. A life full of happiness. True peace that lasts.That'swhat ye deserve—and ye're goin' tae help me ensure that ye get it."
Eoin's eyes were starting to grow distant, but they seemed to focus more on her words. He weakly nodded, and allowed her to tie a strip of cloth ripped from her own dress around his chest, careful not to disturb the knife as she did. It would not help much, but at least it might keep some of the blood in while they moved.
He grunted in pain when she pulled him to his feet, leaning him heavily on her shoulder, but he did not protest. His feet dragged a little as she pulled him toward the horses, and it took a lot of effort, pushing and pulling, and thankfully a very well-trained horse to settle him over the saddle. Panting and exhausted herself, she quickly gathered the essentials and added them to her pack, then set both packs on the other horse, tying the reins together in the way she'd been taught to lead both horses while only riding one.
Tired and sweating, not wanting to look back at the dead bodies behind her or to think of the part she had played in creating them, she clambered onto the horse behind Eoin. He let out a small sound as she mounted the horse, but it seemed that he was quickly losing his consciousness. Fretting, she knew she had to keep him awake, but did not know how to focus.
North. They had to go north. Glancing at the night sky and finding the bright star that was the only guide she could have at the moment, she whispered, "Hold on, Eoin." She wrapped one arm tightly around him, careful not to damage him more as she held him safely in place, and took the reins in another.
The horses moved in tandem, turning in the correct direction with only a little urging. They set off into the night, travelingnorth out of the valley and toward the northern forest in the far distance.
Breana was no fool. She knew that she had very little chance of reaching the convent, and even less chance of keeping Eoin alive until she got there. She knew that it was almost hopeless.
But if there was a chance, any chance at all, she would take it.
"Hold on, Eoin," she told him. "Hold on. I'll keep ye safe. I swear it."
13
Neala felt as though she was swimming through fog as she tried to gather her thoughts. She stood with her hand on the door, feeling the weight of what was coming vibrating through her whole body. She had a new understanding of the world now; everything had changed beyond what she had ever imagined in just a few short moments. It wasn't a case ofifshe should act, not now—all that was left was to decide what to do.
Her mind drifted to her Sparrow sisters, Catriona and Iona, the two young trainees who had bonded to her. What would they do if they knew the full truth? She smiled faintly, imagining their excitement and astonishment, but her smile faltered as her thoughts naturally drifted to Laura. Laura, who had knownall along. It was too hard to wrap her head around, and it was going to be a long, serious conversation between them when this was all over.
But it was a long way from over, Neala reminded herself firmly. She could not allow herself to get lost in her thoughts. So what did she do now?
Officially, her mission had not changed. She had been sent here as a spy to gather information, and that information was imperative to the rebellion's success. ToCailean'ssuccess, it hadbeen revealed. The proper thing to do based on the protocol that had been pressed into her mind from childhood was to continue her mission no matter what. Her cover was still intact, and so, it seemed, was Elspeth's. She should report what had happened with Morag to the older Sparrow, and trust that the others would act, and otherwise just continue to serve as Abby, the maid. After all, she had now developed a strange bond with the prince, of all people. Wouldn't it be foolish to jeopardize the missionnow, when she was in such an impossibly strong position?
But… but Morag and Ann were in the dungeons now. Even if she got word to Elspeth, how long would it be before the Sparrows were informed, and how long before they could act? Ann was sick, and regardless of what Morag wanted to assure Neala, it was obvious that the young woman was in immediate danger. And Morag… well, she was notveryold, but she was too old to be living in such conditions. Her loss would be an unimaginable one to the Sparrows, both on a tactical level and on a personal one. So, did Neala abandon her mission now and focus only on saving her captured allies? The Sparrows were her family—could she leave them behind, even for a mission?
And then again… they weren't heronlyfamily. She knew that now. The thought made her heart race and her throat feel dry. Cailean was alive. Cailean had been alive for twenty years, and she had not known. Part of her was still hurt and angry that it had been kept from her, even though she was trying to understand, but an even stronger part was simply jubilant. All she had dreamed of for her whole life was the chance to speak to her mother or father or siblings. She'd been too young to do so before they were taken from her, and until just now, she'd thought she'd lost her chance forever. And not only that, but Morag hadtoldher to go to Cailean. Surely, that counted as new orders, overriding her previous mission? Or was that simply the bargaining thoughts of a girl who hoped?
There were too many paths, too many choices, and too many differences from the world that she thought she had known. It made her head spin, and as she stood there holding the door, a tiny part of her wondered what it would be like if she just stayed here. If she just let someone else make the decisions, would it really be so bad?
Yes, it would, she answered herself, the firm resolve returning after the tiny moment of weakness. She may not be sure about the right path, but she knew that whichever one she took, it must beherpath. She'd spent enough time here thinking in circles.
Pushing open the door, taking a deep breath, Neala stepped out into the corridor. Whatever she did next, she needed to find and speak to Elspeth. There was a small squeeze of something painful in her stomach as she thought of the older Sparrow and understood that Elspeth had known about Cailean the entire time. But she shook her head and pushed past it. There would be time for recriminations and explanations later. Now, she had too many important tasks ahead of her.
The hallways of Blackthorn Castle seemed strangely empty as Neala paced through them, forcing herself to act normally and walk with the demure but purposeful pace of a servant, rather than rushing ahead as her heart screamed at her to do. She could not allow herself to break character and ruin everything she had built now, even if she didn't know what exactly she was going to do next. As Neala passed an open window, though, the odd echoing silence was punctured by a babble of rising voices from outside.
Curious, she took a step to the side and peered out of the window, which looked over the central courtyard of the keep. To her surprise, she saw that it was packed with people, horses, and what looked like wagons filled with travel supplies. It seemed like most of the residents of the castle were gathered, and theking and prince were there in the center of it all, recognizable even from so far above. Neala strained her ears, but she was too high up to make out anything distinct from the cacophony of voices coming from below.
Though her instinct told her that what was happening down there was important, she reluctantly dragged herself away from the scene, firmly telling herself that she could not add to the confusion in her mind already until she'd sorted out all of the strings that had already frayed. She pushed herself to keep moving, heading for the stairways that would take her down to the kitchen, trying not to think of the small alternative path that would return her to the dungeons and to Morag's side.
She'd only managed to get down a few steps, though, when she almost collided with a person who was hurrying up them two at a time.
"Oh!" Neala exclaimed. "Sorry, I was just—oh, Elspeth!"
Elspeth had grabbed Neala's arms to steady her before she tripped and fell, and as they looked at each other, Neala saw a wildness in the calm cook's eyes that she had never seen there before. "Oh! Lass! Thank God, I thought ye'd gone missin' entirely. Come on, we need tae be outside now."
Neala frowned. "I was comin' tae find ye. I have things tae tell ye, things?—"
"Later. We dinnae have time," Elspeth insisted. She let go of Neala's arms, but it was only to grab her hand and pull her down the stairs, hurrying her along. "They're in the courtyard now. We cannae miss it."
