I don’t realize how low I’m hunched over my saddle until I feel Kaelen’s hand touch my arm.
“Where did you go?”
Straightening, I scrub at my face with the heel of my hand. “Nowhere I want to be.”
Helets it go, although I can tell by his troubled eyes that he’s not happy about it. A muscle clenches in his jaw, but he nods and changes the subject. “What should we tell them about last night?”
“What?” In my shock, I raise my voice so much that Andras turns in his saddle to look back at us.
I flap a dismissive hand in the Sylvan’s direction and repeat my question in a whisper.“What?”
Kaelen’s wicked grin makes me blush. “Not that. What should we tell them about what happened in the fields?”
“Oh. Well, everything.” I feel my face heat again when I consider the implications ofeverything.“Not the kissing part, naturally. But the amulet pulling us into the field, the crops … We can’t succeed if we keep secrets from the rest of the company, can we?”
A shadow crosses behind his eyes. “You’d think so, but I’m betting everyone else in our group has secrets of their own. We just found out that Elianna has been lying to us—at least by omission—all along. And Chitai still hasn’t told us the story of why she was in Pallanhold at exactly the right time to be sent on this quest. Even Andras—look how long he held back the details of his involvement with the amulet. Trick …”
“What about Trick?” I hear the defensiveness in my voice even as I ask.
He snorts. “I don’t trust a word out of his mouth. No offense meant to you. Probably even Sergeant Neville has secrets. Who knows what the king commanded before sending him with us? Neville is one of the king’s longest-serving, most trusted guards. You don’t survive in Pallan’s service without seeing and doing some unpleasant things.”
His cynicism shocks me until I think about it, and then I realize it doesn’t. He’s right about Chitai and Elianna. Andras, certainly. Trick, well … Kaelen has reasons to be suspicious there, too. But Sergeant Neville?
“Surely not Bern?”
Kaelen smiles and shakes his head. “No, not Bern. I think he will be loyal to you until the end of his days.”
This answer baffles me, so I ignore it and ride on in silence. With so much to think about, and memories of last night and Kaelen constantlyintruding—his hands, his mouth, his body—the day passes in a haze. We see a few travelers on the road, but they’re always coming from the east, heading west.
There’s little news, and all of it is bad. The Zhagarn are advancing. People are being burned out of their homes and villages. All signs point to even less snowfall in the mountains than last winter, and we were already in near-drought conditions.
With nature out of balance, from the thirsty seedlings buried in the soil, to the lessening snow in the mountains, to the absence of stars in the sky, how long will it be until all of Altarra turns into the blighted wastes of the Degradation?
When we finally break for camp, dusk is fading. Trick walks his horse over to mine, and we spend time in silence tending to our mounts. I keep waiting for him to say something about last night—about Kaelen and me. But the silence grows denser and more impenetrable with every minute it persists. Eventually, I decide that waiting for him is more painful than breaking the silence myself, so I speak up.
“Trick, how is it that the thieves have a Guild? Theft is against the law in Pyrrh.”
He looks startled but answers me readily enough. “It’s not official, of course. But we have the same hierarchical structure, with Guild bosses and the like. Those of us lower down the ladder pay dues upward.”
“Are you in the Guild? It’s just … you said you were high in the ranks, but Elianna says you’re not, and I don’t care. I really don’t. Our friendship has nothing to do with your status in an … an illegal guild.”
When he looks away from me, as if ashamed to meet my eyes, I reach out to touch his arm. “Listen to me. It doesn’t matter. Whatever happened or didn’t happen, whatever your status with the Guild, you’ll always be my friend. The past is just that. From now on, let’s move forward without carrying those burdens in our hearts. I love you, my friend.”
Now he meets my gaze, and there’s a trace of amusement in his brown eyes. “But only your friend, right?” He winks at me, but then his face turns serious. “I can only hope that fancy prince is good enough for you. I’ll make sure he meets the pointy end of my daggers if he’s not. And I love you, too, my friend. Forever and always.”
Ihug him, and I know we’re fine. We’ll always be fine. He grins, kisses the top of my head, and then walks with me to the wagon to retrieve our cooking supplies. He lifts a heavy pot filled with bags of grain and dried beans, his arm muscles straining his sleeves.
I realize, not for the first time, that Trick is a very handsome man and wonder absently why I never thought about him romantically.
Then I think about my overpowering attraction to Kaelen, and the truth strikes: Trick feels more like a brother to me.
We carry everything to the fire in silence while I muse on this epiphany, and then he pulls me aside. “Please let me find us a way out of this. The first key nearly got us killed. Who knows what kind of danger surrounds the second?”
“I told you, Trick. Ichoosethis. This quest? It’s for all of Altarra. It’s important. And … I’m important to it. I’m staying.”
His hands clench into fists. “We’ll die if we stay. Also, Ican’tbe trapped this way. The binding … You know about my father.”
“The drunkard who locked you in a closet so many times when you were only a tiny boy, may he rot in the afterlife?” As always, pain and rage shoot through me at the thought of it.
