She let out a growl that might have echoed off the mountains. “This is a shit rescue!”
He didn’t have time to worry about Brela escaping as she stormed off. His eyes flashed to the soldiers that remained incapacitated by the fire that still burned a faint green. They wouldn’t wake up in time to help, and now he’d need to protect them on top of keeping the prince out of danger.
Cason forced a breath through his teeth. One versus twenty-three.
Dead. They were dead.
Cason turned to Serill who had gone as pale as his white shirt. “Prince, I need you to grab a horse and ride as fast as you possibly can. Get to the river where we crossed late this morning and then destroy the bridge behind you. I’ll buy you some time.”
Not a lot of time. He’d just wasted his damn reserves trying to fight Brela and her crew. A crew he’d met before in Averlyn at the orphanage. Another trick that slipped past his sun-blessed senses.
Serill shook his head at the order. “You can’t take them on by yourself.”
“I said I’d buy you time, nowgo.”
The prince didn’t budge.
He followed Serill’s glance over his shoulder to Brela and her two friends in silent conversation, jabbing hands at each other. Whatever was happening between the trading of hand signals, they all seemed to be paying attention to each other. But it was Brela’s final signal that had her friends nodding. The man sprinted toward the sleeping soldiers while the woman scooped up her second dagger and followed him.
“What are you still doing here?” Cason growled as Brela stomped next to him.
“Making a deal with you,” she snapped, staring up at him with a snarl. “Give me the gods-damned dagger.”
He almost spit at her. “So you can take it and run?”
“So I can have something to fight with,” she hissed. “Here are the terms. You give me Night Carverpermanently, pardon me and my friends for our actions, and we’ll help you fight the Wraturo.”
Cason ground his teeth. “What happens after?”
“We die, or I walk away from you and those creatures.”
“No,” Cason snapped.
Brela shrugged. “The longer you fight this, the closer they get. I could sit back and watch them kill you and the prince, but I’m willing to strike this deal because I don’t want Night Carver’s first kill to come from someone who doesn’t deserve him.”
He grumbled. “New terms. I pardon your friends,temporarilygive you the dagger, and you stay with us after all of it.”
“Agreed on pardoning my friends. Night Carver is mine, permanently, and you swear that no harm will come to me while I’m with the king,” she growled.
Cason nearly shouted in frustration, the fire in his chest raging. Counting was doing nothing to keep his anger in check. He couldn’t even focus on one thing to count. “Fine. No harm will come to you, I swear.”
Brela didn’t flinch. “Swear on something that matters.”
“My life,” Serill blurted. Before Cason could snap at him, the prince held up his hand. “He swears on my life. And, if it matters, I also swear on his that I won’t let my father hurt you.”
Her pale eyes traced the prince for a moment before returning to Cason, waiting for his answer. Cason stared at her outstretched hand, but hesitated. “We gave you our promise, and now I need yours. Swear on something that matters. Why does this dagger mean so much to you?”
“Cason,” Serill warned.
Brela didn’t flinch. “It belonged to the Veil Scholar, the leader of our people.”
The other woman’s voice shook from a distance. “Brela.”
Cason continued. “No one names a dagger unless they have a claim on it, even your people. Tell me the truth and I’ll give it to you. Why did you name it?”
She stood still, possibly not breathing. After a painfully long few seconds, she whispered. “You still swear to protect me?”
Cason and Serill nodded.
