I snort a humorless laugh and shrug. After a stretch of time, I say, “I wish he’d trust me more.”
“He does trust you. He’s just bullheaded. Perhaps more so than I.”
“Impossible,” I say with a small smirk.
She laughs, her eyes growing endearingly small the way her brother’s do. I wrap my arms tighter around myself. “I know there’s something that’s been bothering him, but I want him to offer it willingly. If that makes sense?”
She nods. “I’m not saying he’s right,” she begins. “But this is how Tiernan copes. He keeps secrets. Don’t forget that he didn’t even write home forten years. I still have no idea what happened in that time. So, it’s not you, Durvla. He … needs to work through things, I guess.”
I sigh. Perhaps she’s right, but we all have things to work through. He expects me to share my feelings, and yet he continuously pulls away from me. My heart aches.
“We should really get some rest,” Chiyo tells me. She jabs her thumb over her shoulder. “Shall we head back? I can throw a shuriken Tiernan’s way to keep him back if you’d like. I promise I’ll only nick him a little.”
It pulls a wavering smile from me, but I simply shake my head and get to my feet again.
My anxiety returns as we start the walk toward the camp; I’ll have to face Tiernan.
Once we get back, my eyes wander past Osheen, Alys, and Sloan chatting, to Tiernan sitting alone. He’s focused on the flames as if he expects to find answers in them. When he glances up, he holds my gaze. But, unable to see the pain in his dark eyes and still not know why it’s there, I look away.
If he wants to be secretive, then I have nothing to say to him.
Chapter 33
AvoidingTiernan is impossible when I’m stuck riding with him. As frustrated as I am with how things are between us, I don’t want to draw attention to the situation more than we already have. We’re nearly three weeks into our travels, and based on the map, we’re supposed to be near Siad Nahar by now. Yet we seem to be walking to no avail, and things are stressed enough for everyone without the petty issues between Tiernan and me worsening things.
The mountains are like a labyrinth. Somehow, the path we drew on the map doesn’t align with the path we’re taking. We stop more often than usual to calibrate and figure things out, but where we’d hoped to find a trail into what should be Siad Nahar, there are mountains too tall to scale.
We camp again. Ava, Chiyo, and Tiernan pore over the maps while Sloan and Isobel engage in a weapons-onlyspar—as declared by Ava—beside the campfire.
Chiyo and Ava chat with comfortable familiarity, Chiyo placing a hand on Ava’s knee as she says something. To my surprise, Ava smiles with warmth I didn’t even know she was capable of, then addresses whatever Tiernan says. It tugs a smilefrom me as well, as I peel pieces from a twig just to keep my hands busy.
I miss the everyday life at the Verge. At Cluain Baile. I miss Taig so much it hurts. With that thought, my gaze roams past Alys, who’s brewing tea at the campfire, to Osheen sitting by himself.
He looks so forlorn. He’s not given us another reason to mistrust him, but I’m still sore about what he did. I understand he’d been trying to save his family; Iywan’s threat to hang them if Osheen didn’t do his bidding must have been horrifying. Still, I cannot shake the thought that he would’ve allowed the Verge to be infiltrated.
Osheen’s auburn hair appears bright red in the sun as he meets my gaze from across the campsite. For once, I don’t turn away from him. His face remains earnest for a moment before he offers me a tentative smile. I don’t reciprocate.
Isobel and Sloan stop sparring at last. Sloan puts their sword away and rubs their stub as if it’s gotten sore, and Isobel claps them on the back. Then Ava steps up, leaving Chiyo and Tiernan behind. She points to Sloan, challenging them, and they smile briefly. Pulling their sword from the scabbard at their hip again, Sloan gets into a fighting stance. Ava mirrors and immediately lunges.
Both warriors arequick, their swords catching sunbeams with each swing. The pair seem equally matched, but Sloan strikes with wilder swings, countering Ava’s precise, deadly attacks. The point of Ava’s sword ends up against Sloan’s chest. Sloan seems unsurprised but nevertheless impressed. With a satisfied smirk, Ava steps back and lowers her sword as Sloan gives her a small bow and steps aside.
Sheathing her sword, Ava glances around, then points at me. When I continue to gawk at her, she waves me toward her, aggression in the gesture. Having gained everyone’s attention,my pulse quickens. I carefully get to my feet, brushing my hands over the seat of my trousers.
Tiernan moves closer as I approach Ava. He seems ready to object, but refrains.
I don’t even have the time to get fight-ready before Ava swings at me with such force that wind rushes over my head as I duck. When I stand upright again, I step and punch, but she simply leans to the side, avoiding it with such ease that my next punch is strictly out of annoyance. Her perpetual look of boredom grows substantially.
After a while of me punching and her dodging with embarrassing composure, I’m tired, frustrated, and nearly ready to call it quits. Then, instead of blocking yet again, she throws a punch, and I summon a wall of darkness that stops her strike.
With a mild grimace of pain, she shakes out her hand and I lower the shadows. “Nowyou’re using your head,” she signs.
“I— I’m sorry,what?” Confusion furrows my brows. “I thought there was a no magic rule?”
Ava rolls her eyes. “There are no rules in warfare. Except: save your ass. I said weapons only. Your powersareyour weapons.” Her leg comes flying at me, and I throw up another shadow shield, though this one causes me to fall onto my bottom. The shield dissipates, and Ava lunges at me, but I immediately push my palm out toward her, releasing dark vines of vapors that coil around her arms. Clenching my fists, I tug at the vines and they tighten, anchoring her arms to her body as she struggles.
A child’s voice resounds in my head.Mama, please don’t go.
Sweetling, I have to. But I promise I’ll return soon. Alys’s voice.
