“A classic Fliss-and-Will move.” He grins. “If we take Jeremy, we’ll get to the Library by midafternoon. It’s too far to go on foot,even magically assisted. You can get answers about the flowers before heading back to the citadel in time for the wedding.”
My heart catapults toward the sun he blocks.
“You want to sneak out?” I ask, so excited that I almost yell.
He has a reckless glint to his eyes that crinkles the corners.
“I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed in the past week.”
“Let’s do it.”
“That didn’t take much persuading.”
“Would you rather go back inside and play house with our mothers?”
He raises his eyebrows at me like I’ve gone mad. “Absolutely not.”
“Then,” I say, pulling him closer by his collar, “whisk me away.”
In almost no time at all, we’re in the stables with Jeremy saddled up and a satchel of supplies strapped to him. Will conjures some warmer clothes and offers me a fleece-lined jacket and some stretchy trousers more suited for riding than my long skirt. My mother’s warning about the forest gives us a moment of pause, but Will promises he can magically send a message later on, letting our parents know we’re safe. Our near deaths are not something Mum or Ruth should have to consider happening again. It’snotsomething that will happen again.
Will swings onto the saddle in front of me and then turns his head.
“Ready?”
A lump in my throat, I nod, and he leads Jeremy off in a trot toward the forest, toward answers and an entire army of guards out for blood.
Chapter Twenty-Two
We avoid the roads and artfully weave between the trees, the horse’s hooves a drum beat to the dance of my heart against Will’s back. He knows this forest and has more than enough experience eluding the guards. Mum was right, though. There are glimpses of blue and silver lurking among the greenery that we bypass carefully, and just when I don’t think my anxiety can take any more close calls, Will pulls back on the reins and slows Jeremy to a quiet walk.
“What is it?” I ask, hushed.
“The fastest way to the Library is over that bridge.”
From our position within the bark and branches, I peer around Will. Past the scatterings of leaves, the tree line gives way to a wide, fast-flowing river and a sturdy gray-stone bridge with waist-high walls. At first, it looks empty, until the midday sun catches a flash of metal. There are guards ahead.
“They’ve set up a checkpoint here,” Will mutters.
My instinct is to try to ride past them as fast as possible, but my mistakes have been made plain recently. I’ve been rushing in too fast,charging forward and hoping for the best. Each time, someone’s been hurt.I’vebeen hurt.
“We should scout it out,” I say, and Will agrees. He slides off the saddle and helps me down before tying Jeremy around a nearby tree. The horse happily munches on some patchy grass near the roots. If only we could be so easily satisfied.
“I can do a silencing spell, just in case,” Will says. “It’ll hide our footsteps and voices, but we won’t be able to talk to each other until I lift it.”
“Good idea.”
Safe and quiet. That’s how we should approach this.
Will swipes his hand between us like there’s a pane of glass and a tinny high-pitched buzz washes past my ears. Magic shivers down my spine, but my startled gasp is silent, not even a breath of sound. I test it, try to speak, but no noise comes. Weirdly, it feels similar to how the curse locks my throat up. Will must see that in my frown as he gives me a thumbs-up in question. I calm his worries with a nod and motion him mutely toward the river.
When we reach the final row of trees, Will presses his back to a wide trunk and I tiptoe to the next one over, no crunch of leaves under my feet. With my palms against the rough bark, I risk a glance at the bridge.
Thank the gods for Will’s foresight.
I whip back behind the tree, balling my hands into fists. I clench them with all my might and scream. Because I can. Because no noise will come from my mouth to alert the two guards at the base of that bridge. Because, gods, it feels good to do so. My soundless scream is as silent as the fury in my chest. Why is it always him? In the bliss of being with Will, I—oh my gods. I’d actually forgotten about him.
I didn’t think that was possible.
