The door creaked open. At such a vague message, Thia hoped it was Callista back to give her any more (literally anything would be helpful) information. But Thran stood in the entrance, dripping with rain, a bedraggled Mavrel perched on his shoulder.
“Lass,” he said to Thia. “You’re alright.”
Oskaren raised an eyebrow. “Your concern over my injuries is touching.”
To Thia’s surprise, the older man didn’t ignore her or flinch away. Instead, he met the girl’s gaze and said stoically, “I didn’t think you wanted my concern.”
Oskaren took a moment to recover, then cleared her throat and said, “Right.” Thia appraised the older man, holding out her arm for Mavrel when he returned a tentative smile. The bird enthusiastically hopped onto the presented limb and nuzzled her cheek with his feathered one.
Thran’s expression hardened as he registered the words on the floor behind her. “So you’ve found a way,” he said, voice catching. “Good.”
Darkness hovered in the sky beyond him, night turning a stony sky pitch black. All there was to do now was wait for dawn.
In the morning, they consumed the last of their food supply. Thia scarfed a handful of nuts, thinking longingly of stovetops and ovens. She hoped this was the last time she’d have to miss home.
They packed up their things, Oskaren doing the same. Thia paused, her own bed half rolled, half splayed across the dirty floor. Now was the time. “Oskaren.”
“What?”
“You can’t come with us.”
Her mouth flattened. “Try and stop me.”
Thia tried to present a logical argument, thinking a plea to feelings would most likely lead to further mockery. “If you come, you’ll be recognized and arrested before you even enter the city. And then I will never get home.” Okay, the last sentence was a plea to feeling.
As expected, it fell on unaffected ears. The girl just laughed. “I’m coming.” Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her sword where it was sheathed at her side. “My vengeance awaits.”
Thia opened her mouth to argue, but noticed the shadow creeping up on the other girl. Dess had drawn his own sword and was looking at her rather pointedly.
Thia shifted slightly, so that he was directly behind Oskaren, out of his sister’s line of sight. “Maybe you can get Callista to help you another time,” she said. “Please don’t ruin this for me.”
Oskaren smirked. “What you fail to understand yet again, Faelyn, is that I don’t care a wit about you.”
“I think you’re wrong,” she said.Come on, Dess.“I think you’re not as heartless as you claim. Heartless people can’t feel angry. Betrayed. Bitter. Heartless people can’tfeel.”
Dess raised his sword. Thia’s heart quickened. Oskaren opened her mouth to retort.
Clunk.
Dess brought the hilt of his sword onto Oskaren’s head.
The girl’s eyes rolled back, her smirk going slack as she dropped to the ground, unconscious.
Dess watched her fall, mouth twisted with unease, but he smoothed it out at Thia’s attention. “I told you it’d come to this.” The tone was light, but falsely so. He sheathed his sword and pulled a rope from his pack. “Help me?”
Thia did, and together they tied the unconscious Oskaren to a post.
“I suppose that was necessary,” Thran commented, Thia didn’t think with judgment.
“She would never have allowed us to go without her,” Dess said, sounding like he was convincing himself just as much. “And then we’d all be in prison.”
Thran nodded once, accepting it, though his face was carefully neutral.
The rest of their things were packed in no time, and Thia, Dess, and Thran exited the barn for the fields beyond. The rain had stopped, leaving a hazy sky in its wake as the sun climbed over the horizon. Thia spared one glance over her shoulder, feeling a bit guilty for leaving Oskaren in a heap.It was for Sorscha,she told herself. It was for Oskaren’s own good.
Another thought occurred to Thia. If the plan worked, this would be the last time she saw the girl. She didn’t want to think about the way her chest squeezed and told herself it was fear for what was to come. She shut the door behind her, Mavrel settling onto her shoulder as she left the barn behind.
They trekked through the fields, making good time. It was still several hours to noon by the time they reached the gates of Cyning, which became one hour by the time they actually entered the city.
