I don’t give him one. “Thank you,” I say softly in Emberish.
The words hit him like a blow anyway, because it seems to knock the wind right out of him. He deflates— or maybe he sags.
But it’s only for a second, because his face shifts into that perfect soldier neutrality again.
“You’re welcome.” He hesitates. “It’ll be a long day if we’re to make it to Gaulter by sundown. The terrain is rough as we get closer to the mountains, and if there’s been rain, it will slow us down. We might need another night on the road.”
I’m frowning, trying to parse out the unfamiliar words among the ones Idoknow. But after last night, there’s no way I’m asking him to translatenow.
Tycho can surely tell, because he hesitates, studying me. A prideful part of me wants to turn away. Any softness has already been erased from his expression, and anything he says is likely to be just as abrasive.
But his brown eyes are full of sunlight, and I still haven’t let him go. A hint of contrition flickers through his gaze, and then he switches to Syssalah to repeat every word. He’s very fluent, but his accent is always thicker when we’re in Emberfall. The low timbre of his voice is pulling at memories, making heat crawl up my neck.
My mouth opens, but I have no idea what I’m going to say. A pulse in my chest makes me wish we were alone. I’d grab hold of his armorand drag him into the woods and we could resolve everything right now.
Before I can say a thing, he pulls free of my grip. Then he claps me on the shoulder like I’m just another soldier and turns away. “Mount up,” he says in Emberish. “We’re burning daylight.”
It’s like a bucket of ice- cold water, shocking and sudden. For an instant, I can’t tell if I’m grateful or annoyed. Either way, it’s clear that the order wasn’t just for me, because the other soldiers are swinging aboard their horses, preparing to ride out.
So I take hold of Teddy’s reins and do the same.
We take the same riding positions as we did yesterday, with Malin at the front, followed by me and Sephran, with Leo riding at the back. Again, Tycho takes outrider, and sometimes he’s so far that he’s a blur on the horizon. I wonder if that’s deliberate, as if he’d completely abandon our group if he had the option. I know he’s used to making this journey on his own, and the only person who doesn’t seem affected by the tension is Leo.
Regardless, Malin continues setting a hard pace, making conversation impossible— though I don’t really mind today. I’m not used to this much riding, and every muscle on my frame aches. As the day wears on, the midsummer sun beats down, and I begin to hate the armor. Combined with my lack of sleep and my uncertainty about Tycho, it doesn’t take any time at all for my mood to turn to shit.
By midday, Malin calls for a break, and I’m grateful. A sick, cloying scent has been following us for miles, making me wonder if an animal died nearby. It’s probably rotting in the sun. The horses’ flanks are all damp, and Teddy thrusts his muzzle into the water as soon as I give him a loose rein. I swing off his back to scoop a handful of water to splash over the back of my neck.
Sephran appears beside me. His freckled cheeks are flushed from the heat, his sandy hair threaded with sweat. “Tahlas?” he says, which meansgoodin Syssalah. It’s one of the first words I taught him and Leo, and it’s become a common back- and- forth between us. We have a variety of responses now.
Tahlas. Men tahlas. Nah tahlas.
Good. Very good. No good.
Just now, none of those seem to fit. I grunt noncommittally and scoop another handful of cold water to splash over my neck. I’m used to the heat of the forge, but this is altogether different.
Leo appears on my other side. He’s also flushed and sweating. “Nah tahlas,” he says, scrunching up his face at either the heat or the smell. He takes a handful of water and pours it directly over his head. “Ugh. Did a whole herd of deer die out here?”
Malin must be on the other side of Sephran’s horse because I see another equine muzzle splash into the stream. “Tycho is checking it out,” he says, though his voice doesn’t reveal any strain. “We’ll break for half an hour.”
“Yes,sir,” Sephran says, his tone brisk. Somehow he manages to sound both respectful and mocking.
It’s clear Leo hears the tone in his voice, because he looks uncertain for a moment, but when Sephran flicks his eyes skyward, Leo grins. Malin can’t see either one of their expressions, but I think I hear him sigh.
I don’t want to add to the weird undercurrent of tension between them, so I draw Teddy away from the stream. As soon as I do, however, I realize that Tycho still hasn’t turned to head toward us. He’s a hundred yards away, still heading northwest.
Sephran sees me looking, and the grin vanishes from his face. He snorts under his breath and mutters, “If he wants to be alone so badly, just let him go. He can ride the rest of the way by himself.”
I consider all the times Tycho mentioned his solitary rides, but I can’t see him abandoning our small team. He’s been tense and prickly since we left, but it feels like something he wouldn’t do.
My frown deepens. “Tycho not leave us,” I say.
Sephran scoffs. “I feel like he’s leaving even when he’s here.”
Well, that stings— because it’s true.
From behind us, Malin snaps, “Enough.”
Sephran scowls. “Yes,sir.”
