Cal and Max ride ahead of Mirren and I, the sounds of their spirited bickering floating back to us on a light breeze. The day has dawned bright and warm, though a cold bite lingers at its edges, the last vestiges of spring. It will only get colder as we go further north, the coastal balm of Nadjaa entirely absent in Yen Girene.
Mirren rides atop Dahiitii and she coos at the mare as we cross a particularly rocky stretch of road. She’s tied her hair into two thick plaits that spill over her shoulders and is tucked into her new cloak, the same shade as her eyes. I chose it the first day we arrived in Nadjaa, imagining it would wrap around her in a way I would never be able to. Now that my arms have held her, all I wish to do is tear the stupid cloak off and relish in her lush curves.
Despite my longings, the morning’s ride passes quickly. We take turns telling stories and I listen with rapt attention when she speaks, greedy for all parts of her that are unknown to me, hoarding them like supplies going into a long winter. Her eyes sparkle with laughter when I recount the time Cal and I got caught stealing sweets from Evie’s window and she guffaws loudly as I describe Cal’s screams of terror when Evie chased us. Mirren’s laughter is bright in the sunshine, and though I told myself I won’t think of it, I wonder if the number of times I will hear it is measured.
We break for a meal at midday in a large grove next to a stream. After we devour a few of Rhonwen’s pastries that are, somehow, still deliciously hot, Max and Cal prudently find somewhere else to be. I get down on my knees before Mirren and worship her once more, her taste in my mouth, her power rolling over my skin as she cries out to the open sky.
Later, when the dust of the road has all but swept her scent away from me, the air grows heavy with the weight of tomorrow. Mirren must sense it as well, because after awhile she falls silent, the thunder of horses’ hooves and the rush of wind in our ears the only sound. I’ve prepared as much as I can for what awaits us in Yen Girene—strategized for every variable, researched every angle—but I can’t shake the disquieted feeling in my stomach or the echo of Avedis’ words. A prophecy brought me to Mirren and led me to Denver’s location. It would be foolish to discount that we are being moved like chess pieces on a gameboard by forces we don’t entirely understand.
And my father, making a grab for power just as the old magic wakes, cannot be a coincidence. He has not made it to Yen Girene, of that I can at least be sure. The walls of the old fortress haven’t been breached since before the curse and it would have echoed across Ferusa if they had been now. But there is no question the Praeceptor now knows I live and that I’ve been helping Denver build the free city, the antithesis of everything Cullen stands for.
I can only hope that when he makes his move, it’s after Denver and Mirren are back in Similis. At least the Boundary can keep them safe.
Until you blew a hole in it.
I shove the thought away. Hole or not, the Boundary is their only chance of escaping my father’s wrath.
By the time night falls and we make camp, the uncertainty of the day has me grasping for any small bit of control. I watch the girls head toward the water’s edge, to clean and fill the canteens and then pull Cal aside. Even in the middle of nowhere after a hard days’ ride, there isn’t a hair out of place on his head and I can’t help but begrudgingly admire it.
Cal scrutinizes my face, raising his eyebrows. “This doesn’t bode well,” he remarks dryly, crossing his arms and spreading his feet apart as if readying himself for an attack.
“Cal, I need you to promise me something before we go in to Yen Girene.”
He rubs the back of his neck gingerly. “I don’t suppose it’s going to be something easy like ‘promise to be funny and carelessly handsome, Calloway,’ hm?”
“I need you to promise, that no matter what, you will get Mirren out and back to Similis.”
The line between his brows deepens and his freckles appear stark in the shadows of the setting sun. “Of course, I’ll keep Mirren safe,” he assures me as if this is a given. I love him all the more for it.
“I don’t mean…” I take a steadying breath. “What I mean is…if something happens tomorrow—if something doesn’t go to plan, you leave me when I tell you and get Mirren out of there.”
“Anni—” Cal’s eyes widen in alarm, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.
“Promise me. Promise you’ll leave me if you have to. That you’ll make her your priority.”
Cal shakes his head forcefully, anger and shock passing over his face in equal measure. “I’m not agreeing to leave you behind, Shaw! You’re my best friend, my soul brother. Mirren is strong. She doesn’t need your martyr bullshit.”
“This isn’t…that,” I snarl, stepping toward him. My stomach is tightly coiled, the terror inside me poised to spring forward at any moment.
To Calloway’s credit, he doesn’t even flinch. I am known to him, none of my anger or fear or shame unexpected; something that makes me feel both loved and maliciously annoyed. “Then tell me what it is. Tell me it isn’t the usual charade of you thinking everyone around you is worth more than you are. Tell me this isn’t just another outlet for your death wish.”
His words spear me with their truth, piercing the gaping holes in my soul where resentment and self-hatred breed. He’s right. Only a month prior, I sacrificed myself in pieces and in wholes, because I didn’t feel I deserved to live. But then I met Mirren and she touched the blackest parts of me. They aren’t gone—they never will be—but they are brighter, somehow. Cleaner.
I meet his gaze head on. “This isn’t about self-sacrifice. It’s about self-preservation.”
Cal only waits.
“I can’t live with myself if something happens to her.” And then I tell him the honest truth of it, “there…there won’t be anything left.”
Cal stares at me, his gaze hard. After a painful pause, he nods reluctantly. “Okay,” he agrees, voice rough with grief. It isn’t fair, what I’ve asked him, but he’s the only one I trust to protect the most vulnerable parts of myself. Though I love Max, she is too willful. She will die before leaving anyone behind. But Cal, Cal knows there are more important things than being alive.
“Is there something you’re not telling me? What do you think is going to happen, Anni?”
I shake my head, disconsolate. “I don’t know. I just…something feels wrong, Cal. Like we’re going to defeat the dragon in its cave, only to have the entire mountain collapse on us.” I roll my shoulders, as if I’ll be able to ease the weight of dread that piles down on them. “All the way to Similis,” I repeat, glowering at Cal until he nods. “She won’t be safe until she’s behind the Boundary. Even if we don’t manage to rescue Denver and you have to shove her through the gates, get her to Similis. Away from all this.”
Away from me.
The words still echo hours later, when I lie tangled with Mirren beneath our thick bed roll, her bare skin warm and tempting. They echo as I kiss every part of her, the rounded lines and soft planes, and they echo as I consume every piece of her power and then gift it back in a rush of crashing waves.
