The implied sentiment was clear: at least tell me you have a plan.
I dared the smallest of smiles. “While everyone else stays in West Pass Watch, I’m going to hike down the mountain and into the wraithland. I need to see that lake. I need to touch it. Maybe I’ll find that it’s exactly like the rest of the wraithland. But maybe I’ll discover something beyond that—something that changes everything. Maybe there’s something I can do to halt the approach, not just mitigate the effects. If I can stop it, don’t I have an obligation to try?”
Black Knife’s gaze wandered into the forest beyond me. “I hear myself in your words. Asking you again to reconsider would be horribly hypocritical of me.”
“I’m glad you finally realized that.” My tone was light, but I was relieved he’d said it. I didn’t need his approval, but it was nice that he understood.
He turned back to me. “What is your magical ability? To heat things? The stone on that wall had been melted.”
I closed my eyes. Talking about my magic out loud was too much. Especially with Black Knife. Naming my ability would shatter this tentative truce. He would never be able to overlook what I was. When I was a child, I’d believed I’d brought things to life. The truth was that I could animate objects, and command them, but there was no real life involved.
Still, it was a dangerous power. “What happens to flashers, Black Knife?”
He seemed to deflate. “They’re taken to the wraithland to be killed in the very thing they helped create.”
“Oh.”
“It used to be a longer journey, and the Indigo Kingdom passed them off to Liadia and kingdoms beyond in order to reach their punishment. Now it takes just a few days to reach the wraithland. They’re deposited at West Pass Watch and sent in along with glowmen.”
I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut.
“They can’t use their magic to escape because they’re given an injection. It keeps them barely conscious, unable to focus enough to use their power.”
And when they were delivered to the wraithland, the glowmen would tear them apart. The beasts would devour them. The air would suffocate them.
“I wish I hadn’t investigated. It was easier not knowing.” He shivered, and he sounded—upset? Hurt? Confused?
“Are you still capturing flashers?”
“No,” he whispered. “I haven’t been. It’s why I couldn’t take you in that night, and why I wanted you with me after.”
“Even though the man—”
He nodded, shifting toward me, and our shoulders brushed. “Even though.”
His shoulder against mine was a faint, barely there warmth. I didn’t move away. “Why are you here?” I asked.
“I like sitting in trees.” There was tension in his voice, and weariness.
“Admit it.” I leaned away from him, keeping my tone hard as our eyes locked. “You’re following me.”
He laughed and ducked his face. “Very well. I’m following you.”
“Why?”
“You keep getting away from me. That never happens.”
“I don’t think you’re even trying to catch me anymore.”
His chuckle came again, warm and muffled, but real enough that something inside me melted. “I’m still trying,” he said.
“And as part of this never-ending quest, are you going to follow me into the wraithland?”
His posture shifted—shoulders down and slightly turned—and he glanced west, as though conflicted. “I can’t.”
Disappointment rippled through me. I hadn’t realized I’d hoped he would come along. So we could argue more? Fight? “You have important things to do in Skyvale. Thieves to catch. Wraith beasts to kill. I know.” And what else? Who was he when he wasn’t Black Knife? “The caravan is scheduled to stay at West Pass Watch for two weeks. That gives me a week to get to the lake, and a week to get back. I’ll return to Skyvale the same way I left: as a guard.”
“It’s probably the first honest work you’ve done.”
“It’s not completely honest. Where do you think I got this sword?”
“Will.” He dropped back his head in exasperation, and a tiny sliver of his throat peeked between his shirt collar and mask. “Well, you’d better come back alive, and in your right mind, because when you do, I’ll be waiting for you.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “To arrest me?”
“No. To—” He hesitated. As soft as a breath, he closed his hand over my arm. “To welcome you home.”
Trees shivered in the wind, sending spirals of leaves hissing downward. I looked at his gloved hand, unmoving over my sleeve. Why was he touching me like that? What was he thinking? He’d followed me out here from Skyvale and now . . .
I held very still so that he would, too. “Skyvale isn’t my home.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll wait for you anyway.” He squeezed my arm, just lightly, and withdrew. “Please be careful—”
A shriek and howl interrupted him. Screams sounded from the caravan. Without another word to Black Knife, I leapt to the ground and ran.