Then Lorian had sat next to us, and I hadn’t bothered asking Marth anything else.
Rythos had an easy charm that could’ve been annoying, but he was the one who constantly coaxed a smile out of me when I would drift into the fog of fear and dread. His wide grin made me want to smile back, no matter how lost in worry I was.
Cavis was a quiet man, prone to staring dreamily into the distance—likely thinking of his family. The only time he truly came alive was when he spoke of his wife and their daughter.
And Galon? He was the oldest. Intensely loyal to Lorian, and continually evaluating potential threats, his gaze forever scanning the forest. He’d explained his power last night—he had an affinity for water. The day he’d dried my clothes, he’d pulled each drop from the fabric with just a thought.
Putting my safety in their hands was difficult. Even if I’d likely be dead by now if I were alone. With no other choice, I rode with them each day, slept next to the fire each night, and practiced my magic at every opportunity.
So far, that practice had been in vain.
In spite of the uselessness of my power, I was almost…enjoying myself. Of course, I still wanted to stab Lorian—enough that Galon had taken to searching me for weapons each night before we went to sleep.
These men might be untrustworthy, but for now, at least, I could be myself. I didn’t have to hide the spark of power that wanted to jump out into the world. It was as if I’d been holding my breath for all these years, and with one long exhale, I could breathe freely once more.
It wouldn’t last for long. As soon as I got to the city, I’d be hiding once more. The thought made a hot ache sweep up my throat. But for now, at least, I had a taste of what life would have been like if I didn’t carry this secret.
And that taste was delicious.
“What are you thinking?” Lorian’s voice was low, almost intimate, and I barely suppressed a shiver as his warm breath caressed the shell of my ear. I stiffened and shot him a glare.
The obstinate man merely tightened his arm around my waist.
My thoughts were still my own. And Lorian was entitled to none of them. “I’m thinking about my magic.”
“Good. Perhaps if you think hard enough, you’ll figure out how to wield it.”
I tensed. “Your teaching methods leave much to be desired.”
“I take offense to that.” Amusement curled through his voice.
“You told me everything I knew was a lie, refused to tell me why, and threw rocks at me!”
Each practice session had been a repeat of that first day. And each time I asked just what he’d been referring to when he’d called me ignorant, he’d shrugged and suggested he’d maybe be willing to tell me once I was useful for more than just decorative purposes.
His body moved behind me as he shrugged those enormous shoulders. “You’re not trying hard enough.”
I had to learn how to wield my power. Because I knew Lorian well enough to know that if he didn’t think I was ready, he would camp in the forest near the city walls until he decided I could be trusted at the gate. The sooner I could use my power, the sooner we could go our separate ways.
A cool breeze was coming from the north, bringing with it the smell of rain and newly cut pine. The sun had gone down, and I shivered, sucking the cold air into my lungs. “We’ll need to find shelter soon.”
“We’re stopping at the next village for the night.”
My mouth went dry. Villages meant people who would be on the lookout for anyone they could hand over to the king’s guards. Even the most kindly innkeeper could be bought for a hundred gold coins.
“Is that safe?”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
He said it casually, and I just shook my head with a laugh. Sure, I was trusting him with my safety to a point. But if he thought I would just blindly believe his word, he was insane.
I could practically hear the brute grinding his teeth at my instant dismissal. But if he thought I was going to forget about him leaving me to either freeze or burn to death, he could think again.
I pulled the hood of Galon’s cloak over my head as the village came into view. Night was already falling, and my stomach had awoken at the thought of a proper meal. My body longed for a real bed, even if it was only for one night.
Rythos disappeared to see if the closest inn had rooms available.
My heart pounded like a drum. My vision narrowed. I watched every face, paying careful attention to anyone who looked at our party for too long.
And yet, no one seemed to notice us. Their gazes flicked past us, and a few gave us a nod of greeting. But no one called for the authorities.
“You don’t need to be afraid.”
“I’m not.”
Lorian snorted.
“Why would I be afraid, when I have so many big, strong men to protect me?” I simpered when I could unclench my jaw.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Was that what you were doing in my village when I saw you at the Gifting ceremony?” I asked. “Staying at the inn?”
A long silence followed, as if he was debating whether to answer. Finally, he nodded. “Your priestess insisted on even more blather than most.”
Rythos returned. His expression was morose when he rode back toward us. “Only two rooms available,” he said with a deep sigh. “It’ll be bedrolls on the floor for us.” He gestured to the other men.
“We’ll arm-wrestle for the bed,” Lorian said, and Rythos just rolled his eyes.
“Why waste the time when you’ll trounce every one of us?”
What exactly were they talking about? “Surely if we’re all spread over two rooms, it won’t be that bad.”
Galon scowled at me. “You can’t sleep in the same room as us.”
“Why?”
He just gave me a look that said he was doubting my intelligence.
“I’ve slept next to you big lumps every night on our journey. Why would being confined within four walls make it any different?”
Rythos shook his head. “That’s not how they think in towns closer to the city. You’d get a reputation…”
I shook my head at him. “I’m a criminal who will be on the run for the rest of her life. Such ideas are useless.”
Lorian tightened his arm around my waist in the infuriating way he did when he had a decree to make. “Regardless, it would draw attention. The men will share, and you will have your own room.”
If they wanted to suffer, then who was I to stop them? Besides, maybe some privacy would be a good thing. I could reevaluate if working with the mercenaries was in my best interest. And if it wasn’t? An inn was a good place to separate.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
The inn was located on the outskirts of town—the peeling white paint seeming to glow in the moonlight. The two-storied building boasted a thatched roof, a crumbling picket fence, and a huge wooden door with a brass knocker.
A drunk stumbled out of that door, laughing uproariously, and I flicked my gaze to the surprisingly large stable situated next to the inn.