There are general grunts of agreement. Bellanca sparks a little brighter, too.
“I should be going with you,” Carver says, staring broodingly at nothing at all.
That would be ideal, but that’s not possible anymore. Just one more thing we can lay at Piers’s feet. If Piers had chosen to support us, he would have headed all martial operations during any absence of Griffin’s. Now that responsibility falls to Carver, which means he can’t come with us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the dark-haired swordsman, my brother by marriage and by choice. Carver has the kind of quick wit, razor-sharp smile, fighting talent, and teasing manner that make people want to stand out in his eyes and shine. Unfortunately, Carver’s eyes also have an increasingly hard and unpredictable edge to them that makes those same people wonder what in the Underworld he’s really thinking. If you don’t know him already, it’s getting harder to tell if he’s joking with you or about to run you through. Not surprisingly, the new recruits are nervous around him, and nobody wants a bunch of jumpy men and women with weapons.
Which is just another reason that neither Flynn nor Kato can come with us. Flynn is a solid, unflappable presence for the troops to look up to, and Kato has a gift for inspiring ease and camaraderie, something we sorely need when faced with integrating two forces that recently saw each other as enemies and still aren’t quite sure how to interact.
Bellanca can just be Bellanca. If anything, the troops will be reassured that we have intense Fire Magic on our side.
Not having a better option, Griffin and I choose a day to leave, get ready, and then strike out on our own for the first time ever.
It feels strange to set out on a journey without our usual group, and its newest member almost refused to stay behind. Bellanca’s determination is admirable, if exasperating. She trailed us for an hour until I ultimately told her about Griffin’s magic rope, pulled it from his saddlebag, and then threatened to turn around and tie her to Carver until we got back. I wouldn’t actually do it, but she’s not the one who can detect lies.
Snarling, sparking, and spitting mad, the red-haired ex-princess cursed us both for idiots, wheeled her horse around, and then went back on her own. Threatening her with Carver worked like a charm.
Finally alone on the road, I don’t know if we made the right decision or not.
Apparently, Griffin doesn’t, either. He glances at me from under lowered brows, concern etching small lines around his mouth. “Maybe we should have let Bellanca come, or taken Kato or Flynn after all. I’m not sure it’s wise to be out here on our own.”
His thoughts echo mine, and the fact that we’re so in tune warms me. That we both wonder if we made a mistake is less heartening.
I know what he’s thinking, because I’m thinking it, too. I have no combat magic stored up, my lightning comes and goes in unpredictable explosions I have no control over, and half the time these days, I’m dragging physically, either tired or sick.
Griffin tugs gently on Brown Horse’s reins, taking the road forking to the right. Panotii takes his cues from Brown Horse and follows. It’s the road to Fisa. There should be warning signs.Continue at your own peril. Danger. Are yousurethis is the road you want? This way lies Andromeda, the Great and Terrible. TURN BACK!
“What choice did we have?” I ask. “This potion could change everything. Having lightning I can control could stop an entire army in its tracks. It could stop Mother.”
Griffin looks pensive. “I know. I just hate going alone.”
I reach over and squeeze his forearm. “Carver’s head seems to be screwed on backward lately, but we can’t deprive him of his rightful place or take away something he’s actually very good at. And with the army growing so fast, we need Kato and Flynn where they are, helping Carver.”
“And you think Bellanca will scare off the hermit.” It’s not exactly a question, but Griffin doesn’t seem entirely convinced.
“Partially.” I bite my lip. “I also think she’s a good influence on Carver.”
Griffin looks at me, his eyes cool and hard under the overcast sky. A chill caterpillars down my back at his flinty expression, even though I know his lack of warmth isn’t directed at me. He’s worried about his brother. “How so?”
“She’s the only one who tells him the truth about himself anymore.”
Griffin turns back to the road. I think we both know it’s time to intervene with Carver. But Griffin isn’t acting like his usual self, either. Since that day with Piers, I’ve seen him avoid things he never would have before.
“Doing this means crossing into Fisa alone and unprotected,” he eventually says. “And going back onto the Ice Plains.”
“We’re not alone or unprotected. We have each other,” I argue. “And you know we can’t bring anyone new into this, not when the basic usefulness of my magic is in question. The information is too sensitive to trust anyone with it. Gods, we couldn’t even trust—”Piers. Even unspoken, it’s like I shout the name out loud.
Stealing a look at Griffin, I see that his face has taken on the blankness of emotional denial while still managing to seethe with anger. His expression more or less defiantly screamsI’m fine, perfectly fine, and don’t you dare tell me that I’m not, because I bloody well am!
Frowning, I face forward again. “Right now, Beta Team is more useful to us where they are, and the Ice Plains don’t scare me anymore.”
“But Fisa does.” It’s a statement. No question necessary.
But he’s not exactly right. “It’s not Fisa that scares me. It’s just land, filled with people who will probably welcome us. It’s Mother who petrifies me.”
Griffin grunts, his countenance darkening even further.
As always when I think or talk about Mother, anxiety takes root in my belly, growing like a rotten but deeply entrenched vine. I’ve been conditioned—like a dog. Mother equals fear. Fear equals cold sweats and nausea.
