“I said she needed rest.”
“She needed more field experience. The constructs were coming regardless—better she face them prepared than surprised.”
“She needed healing and controlled practice, not to be thrown at bone-monsters like bait.”
“She needed to know she could survive when things went wrong. And now she does.” I kept my voice level, meeting the Sage’s eyes. “You can be angry about my methods, but the results speak for themselves. She’s alive, she’s learned, and the constructs won’t be attacking camp tonight.”
The Sage looked between us, taking in Elle’s bandaged shoulder, the blood staining both our clothes, the exhaustion in her posture.
“What did you learn?” they asked Elle, voice careful.
“That I can kill things by making them bloom. Those constructs are horrifying. And that Kaelren’s solution to everything is death.”
“All valuable lessons,” the Sage said dryly. “Tomorrow, controlled training only.”
“Tomorrow might be complicated,” Nimor said, his form solidifying from shadow at the edge of camp. His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of bad news delivered too many times. “Crown scouts. Three miles out and closing.”
The camp went still. Even the insects seemed to pause their humming.
“How many?” I asked, though I could already guess from Nimor’s expression.
“Full patrol. Forty soldiers, maybe fifty. Standard search formation, moving methodically. They’re not rushing—they know we can’t have gone far.” He flickered, checking over his shoulder as if they might appear at any moment. “They’ll reach this location by mid-morning tomorrow if they maintain their current pace.”
“They found us,” Elle said, and I heard the resignation in her voice. Theacceptance that this had always been inevitable.
“They were always going to find you. The marks are like a beacon to anyone who knows how to look.” I started cataloging resources mentally—weapons, supplies, escape routes. “The only question was when, not if. Auradelle wants what you’re carrying too badly to just let you disappear into Wynmire.”
The crew exchanged glances, that silent communication that came from years of running together.
“We run,” Eltrien said immediately, already thinking about how to pack his healing supplies quickly. “We’ve outmaneuvered patrols before. We can do it again.”
“We fight,” Sarnyx countered, her thorns extending as if the decision was already made. “I’m tired of running. Forty soldiers isn’t impossible odds. Not with what she can do now.” She jerked her chin at Elle.
“We prepare for both,” the Sage interrupted, their voice cutting through the brewing argument with the authority of someone who’d survived more conflicts than any of us. “Tonight we plan every contingency. Tomorrow, when we see their actual formation and capabilities, we decide. Running blind gets you killed just as fast as fighting stupid.”
The camp erupted into controlled chaos—Bryx checking the bees, Vashael gathering her plants, Nimor disappearing to set watches. Through it all, I watched Elle stand frozen, processing what this meant.
I caught her arm as she started toward her tent, pulling her aside where the others wouldn’t overhear.
“Listen to me carefully,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Whatever happens tomorrow—whether we run or fight or some combination of both—there’s something you need to understand.”
“What?” She looked up at me, fear evident but controlled.
“Don’t let them take you alive.”
She went very still. “What?”
“The Crown has methods of extracting power from marked individuals. Techniques refined over centuries, designed to pull every drop of magic out while keeping the host alive as long as possible.” I held her gaze, makingsure she understood. “You wouldn’t survive it intact. The person they’d eventually release—if they released you at all—wouldn’t be you anymore. Just an empty shell that remembers being Elle.”
The color drained from her face. “That’s… that’s horrifying.”
“That’s reality. Which is why I’m telling you now, while you can still prepare for the possibility.”
She swallowed hard, then asked the question I’d been expecting. “Would you do it?” Her eyes searched mine. “If it came down to it—if they were about to take me—would you kill me first?”
The honest answer sat between us, heavy and sharp.
“Yes.”
