“Gods, I was hoping we could kill Ludis.” She slumps against the seat.
“I don’t see why that isn’t still an option,” I tell her.
“Alright. We’ve got the support of a goddess and you’ve got death magic. There is no way we can’t figure out a way to prevent Ludis from getting that crown, ensure that Caiden doesn’t get an army, and find out who else is pulling the strings so you can kill them. Is that everything?”
“I think so,” I say.
“And I thought it was going to be a challenge.” She makes a show of stifling a yawn.
I take her hand again and give it a squeeze. “Gods, I missed you.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she says. “Now, tell me every detail about Mara. We’ve got time.”
I take a deep breath, and then I start at the temple. I tell her about how I got my magic and the bargain I made. I tell her about the whispers and the night in the woods. About how Mara would whisper things in my mind. I tell her about Juliette, and how she was turned into a crow. Then I tell her about Nate and Brevan’s sister. I even tell her everything about Brevan.
By the time I’m finished, I lean back against the seat, exhausted. My whole body is tense and sore, my mind a little fuzzy.
Anya moves over to the seat I’m on and pulls me to her. I rest my head on her shoulder. “What if I disappoint Mara? What if I make the wrong decisions?”
“You won’t. You’ve got me, now. And we’re going to figure all this out together.”
Forty-Five
Sabina
We make camp in a wooded area not far from the main road. Anya and I share a pallet covered with furs. She’s asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow but I lay there, listening to the sounds of the camp.
The two of us kept to ourselves all day and I avoided even looking at either Brevan or Caiden. Thankfully, they were busy every time I saw them.
Aside from a short conversation over a dinner of fish that someone caught in the nearby stream, Caiden seems to be avoiding me as well. I have to fight against the mild disappointment that builds like a threatening rainstorm on a festival day. I’ve gotten so used to his company that it feels strange to have that vacancy there.
Boots crunch outside the tent and hurried murmurs are exchanged. I can’t make out the words, but the tone seems urgent. More footsteps, then the sounds of running and shouting.
My pulse kicks up and I sit. Anya turns, but doesn’t wake. No sense dragging her into something if she’s safer in here. I creep to the entry and pull aside one of the tent flaps. The legionaries who were standing at my tent are a few feet away, staring at something I can’t see.
I step into the cold night air and cross my arms over my chest. The guards are so focused on the commotion, they don’t even notice me approach. Several legionnaires are gathered in a group, surrounding something. I take a few more steps, then notice there’s more legionnaires on their knees, bound like prisoners.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
The legionnaire nearest me flinches, as if surprised by me. I press my lips into a tight, annoyed line. If someone attacked us, this man is not going to be much use.
“Your majesty, you should be in your tent,” he says.
“What is happening?” I demand.
“They had elm’s breath in their bags,” the other legionnaire says.
“What?” I take a few steps closer, trying to identify the restrained men.
“Enforcer insisted on checking all the bags personally,” he explains.
I notice Caiden approach the prisoners. Even from this distance, I can see the rage in his expression. He’s giving orders I can’t hear, but when he walks away from the torches that border our camp and into the woods, several legionnaires drag the restrained men behind him.
There’s six in total, stumbling and fighting as they’re prodded forward.
“Servants of death, those,” the guard near me says.
My brow furrows at the unusual choice of words. “What do you mean?”
