“I don’t believe you’ll kill me,” said Robert.
“I won’t have to,” said Tristam. “The Council will gladly execute you for me. But if you give us useful information, we might be able to speak on your behalf. I can’t promise you any specific terms to your sentence, but I can promise you far better than what you’ll receive if I turn you in without an admission of guilt. Just tell me which house employs you and whom the message was for.”
Kyra heard footsteps outside a few moments before Tristam did. They exchanged a glance, and she slipped out. Flick waited a short distance from the cave mouth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She could have sworn he looked guilty.
“My friends can help,” he said. “And they’re right behind me.”
“I see.” Kyra took a few steps closer, wondering at Flick’s manner. “That’s good news, in’t it?” She stopped as Adele, Pashla, and Mela and a man she didn’t recognize came into view. “Flick, that’s—”
At that moment, Tristam stepped out of the cave. He took one look at the newcomers and reached for his sword.
“There’s no need, Tristam,” said Flick. “These are the friends I mentioned.”
Tristam had gone rigid. He drew breath sharply to speak, then looked back at the cave mouth. His voice was low when he spoke again, but no less angry. “You didn’t mention that your friends were Demon Riders.”
“I know,” said Flick. He spoke carefully, though there was no hint of apology in his manner. “They’re good to help, but you don’t have to accept it.”
Kyra looked from Flick to Tristam and back again, trying to ignore a feeling of betrayal that was trickling into her consciousness. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more, that Flick had obviously hidden this plan from her, or that he’d been the one to think of it when Kyra shared their blood.
Pashla nodded to Kyra in greeting, then looked at Tristam. “I didn’t know the knight would be here,” she said to Adele.
“I have a name,” said Tristam, his voice taut.
“Tristam of Brancel,” Pashla said lightly. While her tone didn’t exactly convey disrespect, neither did she assign much importance to the utterance. The tension in the circle was palpable, and Kyra couldn’t quell the feeling that things were about to unravel. She didn’t know what Flick’s game was, and the thought of her old friend doing anything behind her back bothered her more than she cared to admit.
It was Adele who spoke first. “Flick tells me that we need this prisoner if we want to stop Forge from sending soldiers into the forest. We will guard him for you. You have our word that he will not escape,” she said.
“Your word?” said Tristam. “And what’s that worth?” Kyra had to look away at the raw animosity in his voice. If she’d had any doubt as to how he felt about her kin…
“We’re skilled at watching prisoners, and we’re skilled fighters,” said Pashla. “This, you should know, since you’ve been one of our captives, and you’ve seen how easily we can kill your kind.”
Kyra looked to Pashla in disbelief. Was she deliberately goading Tristam, or did she simply not realize what effect her words would have?
Tristam took a step toward Pashla, drawing his sword. “I stood by while you murdered two of my comrades. I will not stand by while you mock their deaths.”
“No!” Kyra reached for him as Pashla took a step back. The Demon Riders to either side of her untied their belts.
“Stop now!” Flick could be deafening when he wanted to be, and his shout reverberated through the trees. Everybody froze, and he planted himself between Tristam and Pashla. “We’ve got the same goals here and enough at stake so that we can’t afford to fall apart amongst ourselves.”