I let out a breath. “I do want to be helpful.” I hesitated, deliberating whether it was political suicide, but I understood now that Ariana demanded honesty in those around her. “I’ve never been to war before.”
Ariana licked her lips and dropped her voice. “We are all part of a whole here. No one can do it all, not even our queen. Some of us are eyes and ears, or a hand to strike. She is the brain, to decide and direct. Find your place here and you will do well enough. It’s what we’ve all had to do.”
What Ariana didn’t know was Iwasdifferent than the rest of them. It felt that way, at least. More was resting on my shoulders—I was the only one who saw the full scale of this war.
Or almost the only one. Draw entered the tent. We met eyes and he sat in what seemed an accustomed place. I had told him plenty by this point about what I knew of Landsome’s future and myself, but I was also holding back. I had been careful not to approach any topic that might lead us to discuss his future.
“It took me time to learn as well,” Ariana continued. “The queen has been generous in supporting this path.”
The ghostwriter always pushed Ironclaw and Parable forward to manage these kinds of violent situations, but it was becoming clear Ariana deserved to be featured alongside them. While I had assumed she should naturally partner up, she knew her story better than I.
What would theLandsome Roadsreadership make of a female leader with this kind of military clout? Would I have enjoyed the ghostwriter’s war campaigns if the leadership had been varied? I was conflicted. Military fantasy wasn’t my favorite thing to read. Still, it wasn’t so much an issue that there was a war to be fought—stakes were essential to the pacing of a story—but that the switch had been so disingenuous. Book five hadn’t been written about a group of people thrown into a terrible situation and relying on each other to get out, but of banner descriptions and muddy marches through bogs.
People were at the heart of a story.
I couldn’t choose Ariana’s story for her, but I could make sure she told her own.
And if I had been underestimating her, could the same be true for Draw?
Ironclaw came through the tent opening, his handsome face haughty as he took in the contents of the room. He seemed to think we were acceptable enough for he held the flaps open for Queen Elthra to pass through, followed by Sir Aaron Key who stood behind her when she sat.
Her first question was blunt. “Do we know the identity of the soldier?”
“One of the soldiers identified him,” Jerrald said. “It was young Manse Peters.”
“Manse Peters,” the queen tested his name.
I doubted she knew the young commoner, but she seemed determined to sit with the result of his life.
She was more in control than on the road, likely had time to recover from the shock of coming upon a dead body, but the event had clearly stuck with her. She was pale, unnerved. Forceful in a way that wasn’t entirely reassuring. Someone had died because she convinced them that their life was worth her honor. I couldn’t imagine how she sat with those thoughts.
“We continue making for Spectral Peak at dawn,” she said. “What are the dangers on the road ahead?”
Draw lay a map on the table, the edges browned and cracked. “The trails continue to narrow through the cliffs. It’s unlikely we be attacked though—the terrain is rocky for the Dark Mage’s forces too.”
“Perhaps single bowmen and women,” Jerrald said.
“Then we send our own up the cliff tops to provide coverage.” The queen darted a glance at Ariana who gave the smallest, covert nod. Now that I knew what to look for, the signs were everywhere. Of course Ariana lent more to the queen than the tightening of a corset.
“And what of when we arrive? Amédée won’t have his army spread on the beaches, waiting for us. Early reports indicate he’s withdrawn to Spectral Peak.”
Was it really time to start discussing all of this? When I woke up that morning, I was under the impression we had days, a week, of peace. This was all too soon. If every hour brought us closer to the Dark Mage, that meant every hour brought us to Draw’s death. Images flashed in my mind. Cold layered over his naked, bruised skin, ropes cutting his wrists. A knife shearing his dark hair, nicking his scalp carelessly. The Dark Mage blistering the skin of his face with the easy twist of one hand.
The queen spoke and I flinched. “You’re the witch’s apprentice. What of the prophecies?”
I straightened in my chair but struggled to find words. My mind was panicked, clogged with what could happen if I didn’t fix all this. The only piece of information I could think of was Ironclaw’s coming betrayal. I darted a glance at him. Should I lobby for him to go on ahead? Get him far away from his cousin? Or was that what would tip him over the edge?
Everyone was still staring at me.
I blinked and opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Ariana prompted me. “Did the witch say anything about how we get to the island?”
My brain finally connected, could think of anything other than death. How did the queen and her forces reach the island?
Yes. Sailboats.“There’s a village just south along the coast. They resent the Dark Mage’s presence in the region. You’ll find support and transport there.”
“Boat crossings are at risk of fire by arrow, either from hidden boats while we cross the straight or when we approach the shore of Spectral Peak,” Jerrald said.
