Evie gave her an appraising look. “You underestimate your abilities.”
Aya thought of the clearing in the woods, decimated with a single outward gust of her power. She thought of the ash on her tongue and the acrid smell of burning flesh as she took in the dead Royal Guard surrounding Tova. She thought of Will’s face, surprised and awed and terror-struck just before he went careening over the edge of the wall.
“On the contrary,” Aya muttered. “I know exactly what I am capable of.” Her fingers tugged on the cuff of her robe as she tucked the memories away, along with every bit of emotion that came with them. Her voice was steady when she spoke next. “So, when do we leave for Sitya?”
34
Be careful, Enforcer. You may one day find your reliance on your power to be your downfall.
It was rare for Will to hear Galda’s voice in his head. There were so many others that occupied his thoughts—his father’s, Lorna’s, his own inner monologue of self-loathing—that the trainer’s didn’t often fight to make itself heard.
But as he sat in the back of a prisoner wagon, his hands shackled in front of him, Galda’s voice was as clear as if it were the trainer’s shoulder pressed against his and not Liam’s.
She had been haunting him for several hours, her whispered reminders of his failure enough to have his fingers digging into the flesh of his palms until they bled.
His affinity had been of no use to him when Finnias and his fellow Royal Guard threw him, Liam, and Aidon in the back of the wagon. Not when they’d brought enough soldiers to keep blades on them the entire time, not when there were Visya in the mix. Even if Will could have brought his own guard to his knees, he could not be sure it wouldn’t have resulted in his friends’ deaths.
He had enough blood on his hands without adding people he cared about to the list.
You are weak. And one day, someone will exploit your weakness, and you’ll deserve whatever consequences follow.
Will slammed his head back against the wall of the cart.
Galda he could deal with. His father, he could not.
“We’ll have our chance when we get to Tala,” Liam murmured from his side. He’d been advising patience since they’d locked the damn door, and Will had had enough.
“By that time, we’ll be two countries away from where we need to be,” Will snapped, his voice hushed in case the guards outside were listening.
Not that it mattered; he knew he didn’t stand a chance of a fair trial once they reached Dunmeaden. Hyacinth would see him hang one way or another, he was sure of it.
Across from him, Aidon stared out a small hole in the wood, his face utterly expressionless. He hadn’t said much since they’d left Colmur, and it only set Will’s teeth further on edge. Where was his ire? How was he not seething over Dauphine’s betrayal? Hells, he would even take Aidon telling him that his plan had been foolish. Anything would be better than leaving Will to the musings of his own mind and Liam’s ever-steady forbearance.
As if goaded on by his furious thoughts, Aidon’s voice finally cut through the quiet. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he remarked softly.
Will’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Aidon tore his gaze from the hole and blinked once, like it could clear his mind. “Dauphine’s brother came to the safe house while you two were tending to the Athatis,” he explained. Will felt a sharp ache at the mention of the wolves. Tyr and Azul would likely be slaughtered. That was if they hadn’t already been traded for more coin than Dauphine deserved.
It felt selfish to feel relief that Akeeta had not been with them on this leg of the journey, but it was there nonetheless. He could delude himself into thinking she had survived the mountains for just a bit longer.
“So you’ve told us,” Will finally replied, impatience cutting a sharp edge in his voice and sending his bandaged leg bouncing. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He felt Liam shift against him, his bicep twitching, as if he could sense the fight Will was dying to have and was readying to intervene.
“She saidgoodbye,” Aidon snapped in retort.
Silence stretched between them, the sound of the horses’ hooves keeping a steady beat as the prisoner wagon rattled on toward their fate.
“Um,” Liam finally said blankly.
A rough, bitter chuckle escaped Will as he took in the wood-slat roof above them. “I had no idea you were so sentimental, Aidon.”
“Fucking hells,” Aidon swore beneath his breath. “You’re not listening—”
“To your romanticizing of the woman who betrayed us?” Will snarled, leveling him with a glare. “No, I’m not.”
“I’m not romanticizing—”
