“You don’t need to hate either one, Charlotte.”
Her eyes haven’t left them, and her tone turns musing. “Are they no longer hating eachother?”
My cheeks won’t cool. “I...don’t know.”
Charlotte huffs a breath. “Well, they’re being too bold.”
I look at her before I swing aboard. “They are? How?”
“They’re bothwatchingyou.”
I can’t look. I can’t.
I’m not sure what it says about me that I desperately want to.
“What about the captain?” I tease. “Who’s he watching?”
She huffs a breath—but her eyes snap past me, and Captain Zalemustbe watching, because her cheeks flush as pink as my own must be.
Yesterday, I would’ve agreed with Charlotte. This all would have felt too bold.
Today, I’m not sure I mind.
I bump her with my shoulder. “Let them all watch,” I say. Then I swing aboard the horse, take up my reins, and ride out.
AS WE TRAVELsouth, the snow fades away entirely, leaving lush grass alongside the roadway. A chill still hangs in the air, but it’s not stinging my face anymore. The soldiers have shed some of their outerwear,tucking fur gloves and caps into their saddlebags. As the road becomes less flat, we ride over hills and down through shadowed valleys, always avoiding towns and settlements. Eventually even the grass begins to turn sparse and thin, the ground turning hard enough to make the hoofbeats echo. Ky’s soldiers wordlessly change their patterns, hanging closer as the sunlight begins to fade. No words are spoken, but bows are unhooked from saddles, quivered arrows sitting ready.
Their vigilance is contagious, and Charlotte and I fall silent, our eyes searching the darkness, watching for danger, too.
At twilight, we crest a hill, and there, in the fading light of sunset, I see the distant mountains of Incendar. To our right, the sky is still a vivid red that melts into purple behind the mountain range, with the first scattered stars flecking the sky overhead.
“Oh,” I breathe.
Ky looks at me in surprise. “Have you never been to southern Astranza?”
“Not this far.” I can’t look away from the mountains. I’ve seen paintings, of course, but that’s nothing compared to the massive earthly formations that somehow seem to be right in front of us, yet also a hundred miles away. It feels like something else Dane has kept from me.
I look at Charlotte, and her mouth is hanging open. At least I’m not alone.
Beside Ky, Asher is also staring, but there’s no awe in his expression. Just wariness.
“Have you seen the mountains before?” I say to him.
“From here, yes. Never up close.”
“This is nothing,” says Ky, as we descend into yet another valley. Shadows have grown longer as the sun sets, and the mountains shrink over the crest of the next hill. “Wait until you’re looking up at them.”
Up ahead, one of his soldiers gives a shout, and my breath catches. I look up in alarm. It’s hard to see much detail in the fading light, but it seems like two dozen armed men have appeared fromnowhereto block the road. For an instant, I’m fifteen again, clinging to Asher while bandits attack our carriage procession.
Captain Zale touches his heels to his horse’s flanks, and the animal sprints ahead.
Beside me, Charlotte’s eyes are searching the horizon, too, but her voice is cool, the only sign of her worry. “Are we in danger?” she says.
“No,” says Ky. “They’re mine. Border guard.”
As he says it, Captain Zale reaches the group of armed men. They’re all too far to hear any words exchanged, but they shift to form a line on either side of the path, standing at attention. I expect Ky to hurry the pace, but instead, we stop in the hollow of the valley and he reaches down and untethers Asher’s horse from his saddle. Then he unwraps the reins from where they’re tied by the animal’s head, holding them out.
Asher looks startled.
