They all fall silent.
“Maybe Alette should decide,” Sylvian says.
And for the first time, I feel every pair of eyes on me.
It’s unbearable.
So I blurt, “Why don’t you all just take turns being in charge? Like a schedule. First Oberon, then Ashton, then Sylvian, then Cassius.”
Oberon’s lip curls. “What? And just stop in the middle of a battle to switch leaders? It won’t work.”
“He’s right,” Cassius sounds exhausted. “We need one level-headed person to lead.”
“You mean you?” Ashton asks, brows drawn up.
Cassius shrugs. “Got a better idea?”
After a long pause, Sylvian says, “Why not Alette?”
My heart stops beating. “What?”
All eyes are on me again.
“Why not?” Sylvian presses again.
“Well–” Oberon begins, but says nothing more.
“She’s not really…” Cassius continues, but gets nowhere.
“Will any of us follow the lead of the other?” Sylvian asks.
There’s a resounding “no” from all of them.
“Then I guess it’s settled,” Sylvian says, grinning.
The decision is made, just like that. I stare at the flames, stunned. Me? Lead the mission? They’re insane. But I nod, because arguing would only make it worse.
Cassius looks at me. “What’s your first order, then?”
I hesitate. My mind is blank. But then I remember the aching cold, the empty belly, the terror waiting just beyond the fire’s light.
“We collect more wood, and then when we have enough to last the night, we eat,” I say.
“Fire needs fuel,” Oberon says, giving everyone a look, like he’s reminding us that it won’t be his fault if the fire goes out.
No one laughs. They just get up and start gathering more wood. For a brief, surreal moment, the four most powerful men I’ve ever met are working together, sort of, because I told them to.
It’s not the victory I dreamed of, but I’ll take it.
As the fire grows, the cold recedes, and the dark seems a little less threatening. We eat some of our food, dried fruit and strips of salted meat, nothing fancy, but it tastes like a feast. There’s no bickering, just an uneasy truce for the night.
Even though I’m not ready for sleep, I set up my blankets and curl up as close to the fire as I dare, using my cloak as a pillow. The dagger is in my sheath at my side, no longer glowing.
The fire crackles, and I let myself imagine that I might actually make it out of this place alive. That I might walk away from this place and be returned to the human lands, where I can see Goose and my family’s farm. Where I can walk the lands and think of my mother and father. I try to forget my grandparents and the reality of my life on that farm, but it’s hard to ignore.
I lay with the dagger strapped to my side, even though I still swear I can sense it humming, maybe vibrating, just a little bit.
Sylvian unrolls his bedding, a patchwork of green and brown that blends in with the moss. He spreads it near the warmth, sits cross-legged, and stares into the flames. Cassius does the same, but he sits a little further away, a big dry rock under his blanket, back straight as a spear. Ashton plops down right next to me and starts digging through his pack for more food, while I try to pretend he’s not too close for comfort. Oberon sits on his blankets with his arms crossed, as if he feels that sitting on the ground is beneath him.
