By the time we stopped for lunch, I swore my feet were about to separate themselves from my body. The boots I had been given had never fit well, and every step I took they rubbed in a way that I assumed meant my skin would be nothing more than a bloody mess when I eventually was able to slip them off.
As rations were handed around—some dried bread and meat—I debated slipping off my shoes to get some relief, but I knew then I would never want to start back up again, so my feet remained in their leather cages.
Just like at the barracks, none of the soldiers wanted to sit with me, in fact, most kept their distance. I knew it was partially my fault, as I hadn’t been with them long, and in the time since I had joined, I had mostly been with Otho, learning about becoming a scout. But it was still rough to feel like the outcast.
At least that had been one positive in my childhood—Milo was popular, which automatically benefitted me.
I had barely finished shoveling the rations in my mouth when we were on the move again. I tried to keep up, I really did, but by the time the sun began to sink toward the horizon, the pale pink sky fading to black, I was several paces behind the last soldier.
It was impossible to keep up when every step felt like I was walking on knives, but I knew stopping would only make me appear weak, so I bit my lip and pressed on.
I was so focused on watching the ground as I picked my way over rocks and small holes in the road, that I didn’t notice Otho was right next to me until his deep voice shattered the early evening stillness.
“When night falls and the soldiers all lay down to sleep, leave the camp, enter the woods to the east. Stay there until I come for you. I will handle the rest.”
I nodded, still so unsure about this plan, but excited by the prospect of finally being allowed to be myself.
Otho continued to walk his horse alongside my slow pace for the last stretch before we finally settled for the evening. I briefly wondered about tents, but when the men moved to pass around wrapped bedrolls, I realized we would be sleeping under the sky.
I hadn’t been instructed to bring my own bedroll, something that immediately made me think others would be suspicious, but as I set my bag on the ground and dug in it, no one said anything. I suppose it looked enough like I was searching for a bedroll to allow me to blend in.
Dinner was more meat and bread. I was afraid to ask if this is what we would be eating until arriving at the frontlines, because I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the answer.
The sky darkened further, and I sat on a rock on the edge of camp, watching as the men pulled decks of cards or parchments and pens from their bags. They joked with one another, their laughs echoing into the darkness.
I had never been outside of Ralheim before, but as I looked around, I realized I hadn’t been missing much. As far as I could see, we were surrounded by dead grass, which went on for miles. There were some small hills here and there, and the woods off to the east, which I was to escape into, and nothing more.
How far was Malheim from Ralheim, really?
The sky was completely dark now, and the men gathered around a fire, sharing stories about Ralheim. I had heard most of them before, such as the creation story. But one man told a strange tale about the time he found a magical world other thanhis own. I was listening so intently, I ceased to pay attention to my surroundings.
Until there was a hand covering my mouth.
I froze, a scream building in my throat, but it was no use, the hand pulled me from the stone where I was sitting, into the shadow of the trees.
Once we were out of sight of the camp, the hand released its hold on my mouth, and I opened my mouth to scream.
“Milo, it’s me.”
I spun to find Leif standing there, panting from the effort it must have taken to drag me here, his hair drenched in sweat.
“Leif.” I glanced, back toward the camp, panicked, but no one appeared to notice my absence. Even Otho still remained sitting on the other side of the fire, his attention focused on something I couldn’t see in his hands. “What are you doing?” I hissed, even though my heart fluttered at the idea that he had come to rescue me.
“Rescuing you, now come on, let’s go.” He reached for my hand.
I took a step back. “No, Leif, I don’t need rescuing?—”
“But they’re putting you at the front lines!” His voice rose in pitch, revealing his genuine concern for me.
My heart fluttered, but I shook my head. “I have an agreement with Otho,” I whispered back, checking over my shoulder to ensure the camp still didn’t notice my absence.
“And you trust him?” Leif’s gaze searched my face, his arms resting on my upper biceps.
I looked toward Otho again. Though he was definitely the ever-serious army general now, I still remembered the day in the laundry room, when he had washed my underthings to help me keep my secret. When he had made a joke and we’d had a moment where I felt a warm flush because maybe we had something between us no one else would understand. Then I thought back to training, where he took the time to ensure I wouldsurvive in my new position. My gaze found Leif’s again. “I do, yeah.” I breathed.
Leif’s face fell. “You don’t want to come with me to my coven.”
My heart fractured. On the one hand, what Leif had proposed still sounded amazing, and I was attracted to him and wanted to see where our relationship went, but I couldn’t hide forever. “Leif, I do want to meet your coven someday,” I promised, placing my hand on his arm. “But . . .” I trailed off, at war with myself over telling him my secret. But I knew he would need to find out soon anyway. I searched for Otho one last time before sighing and making my decision. “Leif, you never asked if I had any brothers or sisters.”
