Sephran’s not an idiot, and his face falls as he realizes he’s said something wrong. He turns murderous eyes on Malin, who bursts out laughing.
“It’s a prank,” Tycho murmurs to me, already gathering up his reins again. He calls something to Sephran, which must be a translation, because the soldier steers his horse over to punch his friend in the shoulder.
Malin is grinning at me. “I teach him, too.”
Despite everything, that makes me smile. I lift a hand, too. “Goodbye,” I emphasize in Syssalah. “Not you, Malin,” I say, because I know he’ll understand me. “Youcan suck a piece of horseshit yourself.”
He laughs, and I expect Tycho to laugh, too, but he clucks to his horse again and turns away. I remember the way he was ready to draw blades last night, and I wonder if he thought the prank was real, if he was worried Malin and Sephran truly meant me harm. There’s an odd hum of apprehension clinging to him, and I’m not sure how to ask. When Mercy starts walking, my horse starts alongside without any urging from me.
At my side, Tycho is quiet, so I glance over. The sun has risen enoughfor me to see his features more clearly now, the brown of his eyes, the few days of blond beard growth sparking along his jaw. I wonder if he still feels guilty about the attack, or if he’s just exhausted—or if Prince Rhen said something while they were riding. His hand with my horse’s rein rests on his knee, and I could reach out and touch him. My fingers long for it.
But we’ve got a hundred soldiers watching us depart. I consider what he said aboutdiscretionwhen we were sitting in the field, so I don’t.
“The soldiers weren’t nervous,” I say quietly. “But you are.”
“I’m not nervous.”
There’s an edge in his voice, and I think of how he was when hefirstfound me waiting near the horses last night. He acts like the soldiers are the ones looking for a fight, but I’m not sure that’s true. I thinkheis.
I look over at him. “You’re something.”
He frowns. “The soldiers aren’t nervous because they think it was a random attack. Or that the scravers followed us as some kind of retaliation for what happened in Briarlock. Either way, they think we were victorious. That we chased them off.”
“And we did.”
“Maybe. But they don’t know the scravers were looking for a magesmith. We have no idea how many there are, or if more will come looking.” His tone turns darker. “If they come looking forme, I could be responsible for an attack on all the people living at Ironrose. There are families. Children—”
“Tycho! You are notresponsible—”
“But I am!”
“How? How on earth are you responsible for this?”
He blows out an angry breath between his teeth. “Because I’m the one who made a promise to Nakiis. Youknowthat.”
“I do know that,” I snap, because my own temper has a limit, and I seriously can’t take one more second of this. “I also know you made that promise to save theking.”
Tycho’s frame is tight, his eyes locked on the horizon. “Enough, Jax.”
“And you didn’t steal the king’s magic,” I growl, fighting to keep my voice low. “He gave it to you.”
“He didn’t know what it would do.”
“I don’t care. You weren’t born a magesmith; he made you one. And because of that, you were able to make that bargain to save his life. He should be here, by your side,defendingyou. Instead, he’s sending you off to live in exile. I almost watched you die last night, and now you think it’s all your fault? Bullshit.”
Tycho sets his jaw and doesn’t look at me. I wish I had the skills to ride on my own so he weren’t leading me like a child on a pony. I have half a mind to yank the rein out of his hand and give it a shot anyway.
But I don’t. We ride on in silence.
Great. I suppose he got the fight he wanted.
I glance over my shoulder at the soldiers we’re leaving behind. I’ve lost Sephran and Malin to the crowd, and now it’s just a sea of gold-and-red livery.
The air between me and Tycho crackles with tension. I won’t take back what I said, but I can’t take the silence for long.
“Where did you say you were taking me?” I finally say.
“The Shield House.” His voice is just as cool as mine is. “It’s beside the forge, not too far from the stables. It used to be an armory, but when the king had army barracks built beyond Ironrose, it was repurposed. Now it houses many of the forge workers and the groundskeepers.” He pauses. “And you.”
