Relief shudders through me.
I turn immediately, my breath fogging the air as I look back across the river. From this side, the bridge appears terrifyingly thin and fragile. The convoy crawls over it, so slowly my bones feel like they’re itching to jump from my skin.
And Taliesin is still kneeling, holding the whole thing together by sheer force alone.
“Angharad,” a familiar voice calls from the trees lining the bank behind me.
Instantly, the world around us seems to slow. Heart thumping a painful beat, I slowly turn. Osian stands just beyond the treeline, alone. He wears his Order leathers, his star pin at his throat. And the golden light of his eyes calls to me, like a candle in the dark.
It’s a trick.
“What do you want?” I ask in a steel-hard voice I’ve never used toward him before. “Actually, better question. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m here to tell you something, Angharad,” he says pleadingly. He holds up his hands to show he carries no weapons, like a sword might be the problem instead of…literallyeverything else.
I glance over my shoulder at the convoy. They’re almost three-quarters of the way across now. If I sound the alarm too early, everyone will panic. I can’t risk the bridge cracking beneath hurried steps and sending the whole lot of them into churning darkness.
I turn back to Osian. He hasn’t moved a step, but there’s something strange in his eyes now. A gleam I find wholly unnerving.
“Are you here alone?” I demand.
“Angharad, you must come back with me,” he says, still pleading, his voice soft and almost desperate. “There’s been a horrible misunderstanding. The Order would never harm you. I hope you know that. They’re trying to restore what was lost and fix the broken sky.” His eyes flick to the convoy behind me. “The rebels are the ones who want to control all magic for themselves. Think about it. They have nothing. And with magic in their hands, they can finally rip our kingdom apart. They will rule us all.”
My heart pounds. In all my life—or at least the life that I can remember—Osian has never spoken so softly to me. There’s always been a hard edge to him. I never noticed it before, but I do now.
My own voice hardens. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you here alone?”
His body shudders, like he’s trying to fight the command. Like something in him is straining against it. But he can’t. None of them can.
“No.” The word rips out of him.
And then the world truly stops.
I cast a desperate glance over my shoulder. The wagon is only inches from the riverbank now. As soon as the wheels hit dirt, I know what will happen. Whoever Osian has hiding in the trees will surge forward and go straight for the harp. But if the rebels turn back, they won’t make it to the other side. Taliesin already looks seconds away from collapse, his strength close to breaking point.
I whirl back toward Osian, my heart hammering. “What do you plan to do?”
“Kill the rebels and take the harp,” he answers automatically.
Anger and fear pound through me.
“And me?” I ask, my voice hitching.
“We have chains for you.” A muscle in his jaw twitches. “We’re to take you to Caer Draen dungeons.”
“So you didn’t need to talk to me,” I whisper. “Tell me how you’re here, Osian. Why aren’t you in the lab anymore?”
“They thought you might yield to me, so they sent me with the message I gave you.”
Heat surges up my neck. “So they’re using you against me. Again.” Tears burn at the edge of my vision. “How much of it was real, Osian? Our friendship?”
His gaze drops. “At first, yes, but not as much in the past few years. I was meant to be your emotional anchor to them.”
Something piercing and violent pounds behind my ribs. I can’t listen to any more of this.
Behind me, the wheels grind over the pebbles along the shore, and a fresh spike of panic runs through my heart. If I don’t do something, they’ll all be dead in minutes.
“Leave us be!” I roar at Osian, putting as much command into my voice as I can conjure, wishing for once my magic could control the resurrected.
