Kilkenny crosses his arms. “You’re not a liability, nor is Taig.”
“Kilkenny, if Forayers discover either of us, anyone involved in keeping our secrets would either be hanged or sent to the Wastelands to die. I’d call that a liability.”
He presses his lips into a line. His cheek twitches in either uncertainty or an attempt at restraint.
After a moment, I say, “Taig lost both his parents. I’m all he has left. He’s my responsibility, and his happiness is essential to me.”
“You also lost both your parents. What aboutyourhappiness?”
I huff out a dry laugh. “I was surviving just fine.”
“I didn’t ask about your survival. I asked about your happiness.”
The silence is thick between us for quite some time. I rub my hand over my arm. “If I could go back in time and somehow avoid being brought to Paramount, I would be truly happy. It would be incredible if I could erase the past couple of months.”
A strange expression flickers across his face, but it dies before I can decipher it. His stoic mask slips back into place, and gone is the Kilkenny I’ve gotten to know since leaving Paramount.
Oh …
Erasing the past months would mean I would’ve never met Carys, or Ellynne, Alys, Kilkenny…
“We should get going,” he signs sharply, his lips still a firm line.
“Kilkenny, I didn’t mean?—”
But his back is already to me as he moves with quick steps.
I’m glad that I met you, I want to say, but maybe it’s best that he thinks otherwise.
CHAPTER 67
Durvla
The ocean stretches outbelow us as we navigate the green cliffs of Moicriach. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be this far from home. My heart is constantly in my throat—not just from the fear of our uncertain future, but because we are so unnaturally high up. Even the air is thinner up here, and I try my hardest not to look down at the deep waters reflecting the early morning rays.
Alys has predicted that the Verge is another two days’ ride away at the rate we’ve been going. Every now and then, we make a stop to relieve ourselves, get some nourishment into our bodies, and give the horses a break. To think that Ghendor and Ffion have carried two riders each this far is impressive. Mirren must be more than pleased to have Alys as her rider.
Since the discussion that Kilkenny and I had a couple of days ago, he’s been guarded. At least Osheen has become a little less tense, but unease is already high given our knowledge of Carys’s situation.
It’s hard to swallow the details of the last time I spoke with her—Carys’s torture, in particular. As much as we all wish there was something we could do, right now we’re powerless.
Much like my magical abilities…
There is something else looming inside me. Something cold and worrying. I’m certain that Alys is keeping her knowledge from me, because she hasthatexpression on her face quite often whenever I train with her and Kilkenny.
I’m too afraid to ask and give up my blissful ignorance.
I’ve been riding in front of Kilkenny since my first daywalking incident, just in case it happens again. His hand appears in my view, calling for a stop. I pull on Ghendor’s reins and can’t get off his back fast enough. We’re all exhausted.
There’s no direct source of water for our horses, but as we remove our packs from them, they happily graze on the moist grass.
I’m bone-tired, but I sense there’s something menacing coming. Something that I’m not going to be prepared for because I don’t know the full extent of whatever power I have. I’m a cynic by nature, and as much as I try to shake it, that worry remains like a nagging voice in the back of my mind.
A light sea breeze blows through my braids as I stretch my arms up to the sky, taking the time to breathe. Chiyo approaches me as I’m stretching my legs, pulling my ankle back toward my bum and, naturally, nearly falling over. A smile brightens Chiyo’s face. Alys has had to heal her sunburn so many times, but now a gentle tan graces her skin. The blue is fading from the roots of her hair and silver shines through beautifully in the sunlight.
“How are you doing?” she signs to me. Her signing has gotten more fluent—everyone’s has.
“Fine,” I reply.
