Page 67 of Fallen Crown

We secure everything on our backs and bikes, and then we’re single file up the path. Rain falls at a consistent sprinkle, but I can see from the bikes ahead that it’s becoming muddier, and the mud is beginning to stick to places on the bikes. The rain isn’t strong enough to wash any of it away; it’s merely creating more of a mess.

Maren is just ahead of me, and her back tire is saggy.

“Tucker,” I call out. “I think you’ve got a flat.”

Wren and Riker, who are leading, stop with us. Tucker crouches down to peer at her tire, and she sighs.

“It’s flat. I’ve got the tools to fix it. You three go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Riker and Wren climb back on their bikes, but I’d rather stay. She glances in my direction and then says, “Riker, tell Brice to stick with the team.”

“Come on, Your Highness,” Riker says. “Maren has this covered.”

“You sure?” I ask her, even though her dismissal was rude, at best. Whatever I’ve said to create this distance between us, I’d really like to undo it.

“Yeah,” she says.

I climb on my bike and let out a deep breath. Leaving her doesn’t feel right, but it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want any of us around. Maybe she just needs some space. The constant filming makes it tough to truly be yourself. None of us have gotten to the point where we’ve forgotten Iris is there.

I follow Riker and Wren, and our bikes get progressively more gummed up. Iris followed me, but when Riker has to stop to clear out his chain, I glance behind us.

“At what point are we supposed to expect her to catch up?” I ask.

Wren checks her watch and frowns. “Maybe I should double back to check on her.”

“No,” I say. “If anyone is, I’ll do it. We’ll meet about a kilometer from the next checkpoint. Does that work?”

“We don’t normally split up that much,” Riker says with a grimace.

“This mud is only going to get worse,” I say. “Better to have at least half the team through it before we’re all pushing our bikes instead of riding them.”

“You don’t have a map or compass,” Wren says.

“Tucker checked the map earlier, and I was looking over her shoulder. Seemed like a straight shot down this road. Then we switch to water of some sort.” Or I think so.

Riker has the map out. “You’re right. We’ll meet at the river.”

They both get on their bikes and pedal onward, and I’m surprised when the vehicle with Iris in it doesn’t turn around to follow me. But the path is narrow, and it’s probably easier to stay the course.

Returning to Tucker is slow going, but when I arrive, she’s struggling to get the new tube in the tire, and there’s blood dripping from her hand.

I drop my bike and crouch at her side as the rain increases a notch. “What happened?”

“Sliced my finger,” she says, showing me the gash.

My first aid kit is in my bag, and I ease it off my back and dig around until I find it.

“Then I couldn’t get the tube in and the tire back on without making my cut worse.”

“Should have let me stay,” I say with a hint of a smile as I clean her wound with an alcohol swab.

She winces at the contact and glances up at me. “An ‘I told you so’ was exactly what I was hoping for.”

“That’s surprising,” I say. “I would have thought it would be the last thing you’d have wanted. Not to worry.” I tap my temple. “I’m locking that in for future reference.”

“Where’s your appendage?” She gazes over my shoulder.

“Would you believe Iris and her camera ditched me to follow Wren and Riker? I feel betrayed.”