For a single heartbeat, I think I feel something, a flicker at the edge of my awareness, almost like a hand brushing against mine in the dark. Then it’s gone.
Movement on my left warns me a second before Nella sits beside me.
“I know you’re angry with me.”
I don’t answer.
“I had to dosomething, Alleria. You aren’t yourself anymore. The way you talk about them, defending them like they’re people. That’s not you. The princess I know would never say things like that.”
“The princess you knew didn’t know the truth.”
“That’s what I mean!” She leans closer. “Whatever they showed you, it wasn’t real. The fae manipulate. Everyone knows that.” She reaches for my hand. “When we get you home, you’ll see. The mages will help you, and you’ll be yourself again. This will all seem like a terrible dream.”
“And if there’s nothing to fix? If the mages look inside my head and find nothing but the truth?”
Her face crumples. “Don’t say that.Pleasedon’t say that.”
“I’m tired.” I pull my hand from hers. “I’m going to try and sleep.”
I lie down near the fire with my back to her, and after a while she moves away, but I don’t go to sleep. I wait until the soldier on watch moves to check the horses, until Brennan’s head tips back against the rock, not asleep, but not fully alert either. Then I ease to my feet.
I take one step, then another, and no one stirs.
Three steps.
Four.
The edge of the camp is right there, the darkness beyond thefirelight beckoning me forward.
“Don’t.”
Brennan’s voice comes from behind me, and I freeze.
“That’s twice in one day.”
“I have to try.”
“And I have to stop you.” He takes my arm, and turns me to face him. “I told you running won’t work, and I mean it.”
“Then let me go. Just open your hand and let me walk away.”
“I can’t do that, Alleria.”
“You can. You’re just choosing not to.”
“Come and sit down.”
I don’t move.
“Alleria.”
He waits until I lower myself back to the ground near the fire, then moves to his horse. When he returns, there’s a length of rope in his hands. He crouches in front of me and takes my wrists.
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Then don’t.”
He winds the ropes around my wrists, snug but not so tight they’ll cut off circulation. There’s no way I will be able to slip my hands free.
