“You’re up early,” she said without looking at me.
“So are you,” I replied.
She studied me over the edge of her dagger, eyes and scars half-hidden beneath the fall of her hair. “You look terrible.”
I snorted. “Thanks. I didn’t sleep much,” I admitted.
“I didn’t think you would,” she said, turning back to her blade. Her tone wasn’t cruel. Just knowing. Of course she knew. Rydian’s biggest secret, the one they’d all been waiting for him to tell me.
The fire crackled and sputtered, throwing a spark of orange between us. For a moment, her expression softened. “You don’t have to carry all of it alone, you know. The rest of us are here too.”
“I know.”
She looked up sharply. “Do you? Because I know I can be…”
“Scary?”
“Unapproachable,” she said, glaring.
I grinned. “Go on.”
“We all understand what’s at stake. We’ve always understood,” she added in a low voice. “But you’re just now finding out. It makes sense that you need some time to process. So, I’m here if you want to talk.”
I swallowed. “I’m not great at that—talking, I mean. But I’m working on it.”
That earned a faint smirk. “Probably for the best. Slade talks enough for all of us combined.”
I almost smiled. “He does, doesn’t he?”
She sheathed her dagger and stood, brushing dirt from her trousers. “Eirnan’s men will be back soon. If the tunnels are what he said, we’ll need to be ready to move. Tonight’s frost will likely be a freeze, and we’d do better inside a cave.”
A freeze. The phrase landed like an omen. Each one carried Heliconia closer.
I nodded. “Let’s hope he’s found us a way in.”
Keres hesitated, then said more quietly, “This thing weighing on you… set it down before we march. There’s too much at stake to fight yourself and her at the same time.”
I looked at her, surprised by the softness in her voice. “I’ll try.”
She gave a curt nod, the moment gone as quickly as it came, and stalked off toward the supply tents where a couple of Withered had begun gathering items for breakfast.
I stayed where I was, watching the sun creep through the trees. Frost glittered on every branch, turning the world into a prism of glass. The light didn’t melt anything—it only made the cold beautiful.
Around camp, more of the Withered were stirring, their murmurs rising like a prayer. Rydian did not emerge from his tent. I wondered if he ever returned to it last night.
Vanya brought me a bowl of stew, steaming and deliciously warm in my palms. She ushered me into the war tent, insisting I stay warm while I filled my belly.
“Thank you,” I told her gratefully. “This is delicious.”
She dipped her chin.
“You never told me what happened to you,” I said between bites. “The night I left Grey Oak, I mean.”
“After I delivered your note to Eirnan, I waited in the forest outside the city until after the attack,” she said. “Any Withered who made it to the meeting point joined us and fled. The ones who were lost… It was terrible leaving them behind, but we had no choice.”
“I’m sorry for those losses,” I said and meant it.
She shook her head. “Don’t be. You gave us the chance to stand up against what was done to us. And now we are free.”
