Page 117 of A Courage of the Chosen

I pause, and when I look at her, words fail me.

She flicks her attention in his direction before it settles back on me. “You’re more than my best friend, you know that. But he’s my brother. My twin. We’re connected in a way I can’t ever begin to explain to you. He needs someone to choose him. He’s had so little good in his life, and he’s come alive around you, more than I’ve ever seen. If you’re not in it the same way he is, you need to let him know that.”

I have nothing to say to her. No sentiment of reassurance. Because when he finds out, he’ll be the one to walk away from me, not the other way around.

It will break us both, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

We focus on our task again as the rest of camp is packed away and we’re back on the road.

“Are you doing okay?” I send the question down the bridge to Callahan, as we ease the horses onto the stone path that’s seen better days. After our conversation yesterday, he’s been in less of a mood, but I don’t need our bond to know that it’s hard for him to shake off what’s going on. I carry the same solemnness as him.

It takes Callahan a moment to reply. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re still sort of quiet . . .”

He stayed close last night while we slept side by side, but there wasn’t any of the affection he usually shows me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt that he withheld it. I’ve grown used to the comfort of his arm around my waist and the heat of his body plastered against mine. When I woke this morning, his back was facing me.

He shifts on top of his horse, flexing his neck one way and then the other. “I’m just processing.”

I let it go, knowing it’s not fair to push him any harder on it when I’ve asked him to trust in me and what I’m working through. It still stings though, and the ache forming in my heart becomes fiercer with the growing distance between us.

◆◆◆

The further we travel, the tighter I hold onto Mabel’s reins. The forest hasn’t let up in its intensity, and every noise in the thicket has me on high alert. In my impatience to get out of the palace, I didn’t account for the way my memories would assault me with each pace we gallop forward.

I spend the hours waiting for us to be ambushed by Brollachan again, wondering which one of us will be the next victim of their brutality. We at least brought more healing supplies this time.

The deeper we go, the more pointed my anxiety becomes, until it’s the fifteenth member of our party, and when we stop for camp on our third day of travel, Rach drags me off to one side.

“Okay, what’s going on with you? You’ve been pale all day and have barely said a word. Is it because of what I said to you yesterday?”

“No, I appreciate where you’re coming from with that. I just can’t shake the sense that we’re being watched. I’m waiting for the moment we’ll be surrounded by shadows again. And I can’t help but think we made a lucky escape last time,” I admit.

Rach places her hands on my shoulders, and presses her fingers into me, as though she knows the small twinge of pain will ground me in the here and now instead of being lost to the past.

“Firstly, we’re not on the same roads we took last time, and we have more guards. Secondly, we didn’t make a lucky escape. You sacrificed yourself for us, and we’re all alive because of you.” Her tone softens, and the gratefulness in the depths of her gray eyes makes me shift in her grip.

“I still don’t regret that. I’d do it again if I needed to.”

“And that’s why we’re going to be okay. We’ll make it to Ruival, get the answers we need, and find out what has Brodie shivering whenever he mentions the Druids. In a few days, we’ll be back in the palace, stuffing our faces with those tarts you can’t get enough of.”

I huff a laugh as Rach pulls me into a quick embrace. “Okay?” Her eyebrows rise high on her forehead as she waits for my reply.

I nod stiffly.

As we rejoin the group, we catch the tail end of a conversation, discussing how we should reach Klunnoch soon, the tiny town at the base of the mountain that used to send provisions up to the Druids in Ruival. According to the guards chattering between themselves, no food or medicine has gone up that path in thousands of years.

It’ll take us just over a full day to trek the peak, even longer if the weather isn’t on our side, but the fizzing anticipation simmers in my gut.

Finally, we’re almost there, and I might get some answers this time.

◆◆◆

The forest gives way to knee-high grass, stopping abruptly at an invisible barrier that prevents it from growing any further and claiming the slopes. The field stretches out as it climbs part way up the mountains, acting as a buffer between the thick tree-line and the rocky Jura.

They rise like giants in a permanent standoff with Elfayne’s wilderness, a silent battle that’s been waged for millennia. The sight is staggering.

I drag in a breath that’s not tinged with mossy-undertones for the first time in three days, and it’s so crisp it borders on painful as my lungs expand.