“No. We can’t go back yet.”
Heads snapped toward Brela.
“Bre,” Elias said, gesturing to the papers. “We got the king his information. We can go home.”
Brela shook her head. “I drew a picture, El, I didn’t get any real information. The king is too clever to accept this. We didn’t actually see what they were doing at the wall.”
When no one responded, she glanced to the prince. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me the king didn’t always intend to go back on his deal or ask Cason to kill me when he got the chance.” Serill let out a breath and lowered his head. “Exactly. I can’t leave without details.” She tapped her drawing. “Realproof of what these things are doing and how close that wall is to breaking.”
“You’re suggesting goingintothe Anfroy camp to steal the plans?” Cason asked. “Why can’t we just see it and get out?”
Brela shrugged. “We need something tangible to give the king.”
The fire wielder shook his head. “I can’t risk Serill’s life by sneaking into a military operation that Anfroy is trying to keep secret.”
“And I’m not staking my freedom on a drawing,” she growled back.
Cason pinched his lips closed.
“What if we’re too late?” Farrah asked. She wrung her hands together, voice quiet. “The prince has a point about getting word to his father. We have enough information to convince him to act. We have locations of Anfroy and Rooke military operations and details about where the wall is breaking. The other kingdoms need to be prepared if that wall breaks.Innocent livesare going to be threatened if they aren’t warned.”
Brela fought to keep her composure. To keep her hands from trembling as Farrah gave her an apologetic glance.
She was right, of course. It wasn’t just Brela’s life on the line, nor her freedom.
Freedom. She’d been so close.
But had she really? Ovir had made sure she’d neverreallybe that close to freedom. He’d let her move out, but she was never going to be out of his grip. She’d known that all along.
What the king had offered was just a false hope she’d clung to in a moment of weakness. A deal to protect herself and her friends, because he never intended for her to survive. Thankfully, the king’s fire breathing dragon currently didn’t want to kill her.
In the end, she still had the Veil Scholar’s dagger. She still had her family.
Hadn’t she already accepted that for those things, she’d be Ovir’s chained weapon for the rest of her life? Hadn’t she already given up?
And it wasn’t just the lives of the Veil Worshippers that were threatened if the wall came down, but the people in other kingdoms. The children in the orphanage, the forgotten and unprotected villages like Averlyn, the innocents who escaped to Itherel and Dycorus all those years ago…
Her hand clutched at her heart, desperate to hold the pain inside. “You’re right, we need to go back,” she whispered. Gods, it hurt. Like part of her soul had been ripped out of her chest. Her voice cracked again, but she could only muster two words. “You’re right.”
Gaping silence, then…
“I’ll go with you.”
Brela turned slowly, meeting Cason’s steel blue eyes.
“We split up,” he said, quieter this time. “You and I go into the camps and get the details. We have the benefit of looking Anfroidian. Serill, Farrah, and Elias go back to Rooke and send word to the king. At best, we’re a few days behind, but those days might make a difference.”
Elias grimaced. “Crossing the Magtonas this far north with five people is dangerous enough, but three and two? Asking for trouble, no matter how skilled we are.”
“There’s no other way to get a message to Aelstow from here,” Serill mumbled.
Farrah sat straighter, her eyes glittering with excitement. “Maybe not directly.”
Brela raised a brow. “What are you scheming, love?”
The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, crystal songbird, no bigger than her pinky finger. “Think Oni would send a message for us?”
“Where’d you get that?” Serill asked.
