So Radven doesn’t like Talon. Interesting.
But Talon was already moving toward Octavian, and the rest of his crew was close behind.
“We’re here to help,” Talon said, this time speaking directly to his old friend. “Let us help.”
The change in Octavian was subtle, but remarkable nonetheless.
As he looked at his old friend, at the people beyond who had dedicated their lives to watching for the return of the Lion Warrior and taking up his mantle while he was banished…something shifted in him. Hebecamethat hero of their legends.
He drew himself up, his jaw rising, his grip tightening on his sword. It was like their faith in him restored that piece of himself, and I felt my breath catch as he rolled his shoulders back and stepped forward.
In that moment, he might as well have had a glowing light around him and an entire chorus of angels behind him, singing his praises. There was such power, such magnetism in his verybeingthat I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.
“My brothers and I will go,” he told Talon, and even his deep voice sounded different, like it was echoing through my very bones. “But I leave another task to you and your people.” He looked to the carnage around us. “Save everyone you can.”
Talon nodded, and though he was clearly disappointed to be left out of the fight, he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back to his crew and said, “You heard him. Start looking for survivors.”
As the group scattered, though—a couple of them moving to usher the children to safety—Talon remained next to Octavian. Despite their long history, even he looked slightly awed by his friend’spresence.
“Whoever it is has shrouded themselves in darkness,” he said quietly to Octavian. “But from what my birds have seen, I believe it’s Mordren.”
Octavian’s mouth was a grim, flat line as he nodded. He’d already guessed as much. “Just him?”
“He’s the only one we’ve seen.” He gestured in the direction from which we’d come only this morning. “He’s to the south. At the edge of the forest. Among the shadows beneath a wild oak. The tree has a large branch on its left side that split off after a lightning strike.” He paused, then added, “Some of my birds will follow you. They can get a message back to me if need be.”
Octavian nodded, and without even a word between them, all three brothers turned to go.
“Wait!”
I was surprised to hear the word slip out of my mouth, and when they all turned back to look at me, I didn’t know what to say.
Let me go with you.Or even justDon’t run off and get yourselves killed.
But all of it felt ridiculous when I looked at the three faces before me: grim and determined, fierce and noble and deadly—these men were willing to go kill, to riskdeath, not just for revenge, or because it was the right thing to do, but because the alternative never even occurred to them. They saw no other choice because therewasno other choice, not for them.
“Good luck,” I said softly, and even though those words felt small and inconsequential in this moment, they were all I had to give them.
And I soaked in the looks on their faces one last time—Octavian, daring and heroic; Radven, deadly and lethal; and Alastor, hard and unyielding—before they turned as one and stepped into the chaos of the night.
42
The Rogue
RADVEN
Pluckoffthepetals
Slice off the wing
Peel off the skin
From the pitiful thing
The song had come up from my bones, from somewhere so deep I couldn’t remember where I’d first heard it.
Carve out the poison
Sever each piece
