“The elixir creatures?” Felix asked. “Yeah, likely.”
What did Fallowmoor look like, then? Was it like Bedwyck? Was there anything left? Why were they so concerned about a doorway to the Hollow Dark? This was a far bigger problem.
“I need my dagger.” It wouldn’t do him much good with his hands bound, but it was Lottie’s and knowing it was in Felix’s grasp was maddening. If the gods had any sense of justice, it should have burned him alive the second he touched it.
“Absolutely not.” Felix turned and strode back toward the road.
“I can’t even protect myself if more come,” August pushed.
Felix called over his shoulder, “Guess you should probably stay close then.”
They had just made it to the main road when Marlow stopped and flung up a hand, motioning for them to wait.
“Hear that?”
Felix’s face set in concentration as he listened.
August heard it then, the muffled beat of hooves on dirt. “Horses.”
“A ride,” Felix added with a smile. He pulled a pouch from his belt and reloaded his gun. “Aesling, get down and stay out of sight. The last thing I need is for someone to recognize you and realize you’re not actually dead.”
Dead?The word crashed through August like a thunderclap.
Did everyone think he was dead? Did his mother? The idea was a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He wasn’t sure if his mother wanted him thrown into prison or locked back in the castle, but if she thought him dead, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking anymore. He didn’t have to keep hiding.
Another thought crept in, a toxin corrupting the brief respite. Did she even care? Had she grieved him? If he went home, would she be happy to see him, or irritated that he was still breathing?
“August!” Felix snapped, pulling his attention back. “Do I have to force you every time? I’m starting to think you enjoy it.”
August glowered, then stepped off the road to the edge of the forest, hiding behind the thick trunk of an oak, close enough to see what was happening. The air was heavy with the dampness of imminent rain and the scent of mud and pine sap.
Marlow stayed in the centre of the road while Felix disappeared past the tree line further down the road.
Lottie joined August a moment later, leaning against the tree beside him. She brushed her hand over the dull grey fabric of her dress.
“Whoever’s in that carriage could help you,” she said, turning to face him. “Tell them who you are and have them take you home.”
It was a too-familiar suggestion.Go home. However horrible Mother may be, things are worse out here.
But Lottie didn’t get to tell him which was worse. She had no idea what it was like growing up in a home that felt like a prison, terrified that if his secret was found out, he’d be tossed into an actual one. He finally had his freedom, and he wasn’t ready to give that up.
He could run. Take off in the other direction. But Felix only needed line of sight to stop him.
A troubled frown etched itself onto Lottie’s face. “You’ll be safe at home.”
“I’m not going home,” he whispered.
“You can’t just—”
“I’m sick of this conversation, Lottie. Drop it.” The words came out harsher than he’d expected, sharp as a blade.
She pressed her lips into a flat line, sent him a glare that could have burned the entire forest to the ground, then stormed off.
Guilt flickered in his chest. She was only trying to help.
It was fine. She’d come back, like she always did. He’d apologise, like he always did, and she’d forgive him because she was a better sister than he deserved.
The carriage came into sight, a sleek black body pulled by two sturdy black horses and flanked by two Watch officers.
