Amanti stepped between us, voice calm but firm. “We’re fighting on enough fronts; let’s not do it with each other. Now that you’re home, we need to talk about what comes next,” Amanti added.
“What comes next,” Aurelia told her with a pointed look at me, “is me leaving.”
“We’ve been over this,” Thorne said before Amanti could answer. “The Obsidians are all over the mountains.”
“I can’t stay here,” she said viciously. “Not with him.”
Her eyes met mine on that last word, and whatever air was left in the room vanished. Every line of her body said she was ready to bolt if someone so much as blinked.
Daegel shifted, uneasy. “No one’s keeping you prisoner, Aurelia. But Thorne’s right. You wouldn’t make it half a day’s walk.”
“I’ve made it farther on worse odds.”
Her voice was flat, and it wasn’t bravado. It was truth. That scared me more than her anger.
Before I could respond, hoofbeats thundered outside—fast, urgent. Everyone froze. Keres was already moving toward the door, hand on the dagger at her belt, when the bird call sounded.
Keres halted, releasing her grip on her blade.
The rest of us exhaled.
Thorne crossed the room in three strides, yanked the latch,and the door swung open to reveal a rider dismounting in a spray of mud.
Slade.
He’d stayed behind to tie up loose ends. I hadn’t expected him for another two days. He looked like he’d ridden through Hel to get here—cloak soaked, blood streaked down one arm, eyes wild with exhaustion.
“You’re supposed to be in Grey Oak,” I said.
“Plans changed.” His mouth was a grim, flat line.
“What happened?” I asked.
“A message from Heliconia was sent to Autumn. Meant for Duron.”
“What message?” I asked.
He glanced past me to Aurelia before handing over a folded piece of parchment. “Read for yourself.”
I scanned the words quickly, my gut tightening at the words meant for a dead king.
“What is it?” Keres asked impatiently.
I cleared my throat and read it aloud: “I have the last living Aine in my possession. If the Summer heir is not surrendered, she dies, and any hope of aid from the Fates dies with her.”
“Lesha,” Aurelia breathed.
She and Amanti shared a look before the princess whipped her gaze back to Slade’s.
“Where?” Aurelia asked sharply.
“A war camp. Somewhere along the northern border.”
“That still leaves miles of ground to cover,” I said.
“Our scouts are working on pinning down the location,” Slade said. “We’ll know more soon.”
Aurelia’s eyes brimmed with moisture that she blinked back. “Alive,” she whispered, and then louder, steadier, glancing to Amanti again, “We have to go get her.”
