“It already has.”
I couldn’t stand there a moment longer. The strings of hysteria tugged at my lungs. I wanted to run away from Ian and Nyx, away from all of these choices I was never meant to make.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t hold yourself responsible for what he’s become. That you won’t try to save him even if it means betraying everyone else.”
My mind flashed to that day in the training room, to Darren and me and the darkness that followed. “Run away with me.” I’d been willing to do it then.
No.
I was done listening to this two-faced traitor that I had once called a friend. He didn’t know me, and he didn’t know Darren.
“You are wrong.”
Ian had never seen that broken prince on the cliffs. He didn’t know about the little boy and his father, or the nights after Derrick died and the way my husband had held me to keep me from madness.
Ian only saw an entitled king who was following in his brother’s footsteps.
“Darren will surrender,” I hissed, “and I’ll save everyone. Every. Last. One. Of. Them.”
The mage crossed his arms and glared at me. “You’re not just lying to me, Ryiah. You are lying to yourself.”
“What a shame it’s Quinn’s decision and not yours.”
“I’ll talk him around.”
Go ahead and try.
“You are with me or against me, Ian.” My words were cold. “But you will not stop me.”
The mage marched off back to camp without looking back.
*
“Nyx gave the rest of the regiment a choice, even the ones that didn’t know.” Alex’s voice boomed in my ears as his horse continued to climb the rocky expanse.
We had ridden for four days.
Narrow mountain trails in the heart of the Iron Range and the elevation were part of the trek. We couldn’t rely on the King’s Road if we were to catch the Crown’s Army by surprise and the result was heavy tension among the party the further we climbed. None of us were immune to the dangers that lay ahead. The moment we reached the border, we would be in a race for our lives.
Only Alex—sweet, charming, somewhat oblivious Alex—seemed not to take note. My brother had spent most of the hours seeing to my treatment and answering my questions along the way as everyone else carried on in silence. Perhaps he was the wisest; anxiety only led to mistakes.
“The ones that didn’t know were smart enough not to put up a fight.” Ella pulled up beside us on her mare. We were passing through a narrow canyon and her voice echoed along the walls. “A few fled, but most took up the cause, and the ones that did… well, we knew it was only a matter of time before the Crown found out either way. Alex and I left that very same day.”
Almost all the villagers northwest of the keep were gone. The few that we passed stood out like the straggled remains of a husk. The buildings and farms were empty. Even the livestock were missing. “They took what they could and joined our cause. Even the ones that didn’t know about us, they had friends and family at the keep. Nyx sent a couple of envoys to warn the others and give them the same choice.” Alex pointed to the road leading east. “The ones closer to Montfort are more loyal to the Crown. I’m sure they chose to remain.”
“They did.” Jeremiah spoke up quietly to our right. Unlike Ian, the others were still willing to talk to me. “We lost a few of our men that delivered the message. The local command dispatched a couple of his knights to hunt them down on behalf of the Crown. Only half of ours made it back.”
My stomach churned. I didn’t want to talk about the villagers any longer.
Even into the beginning of spring, the north was rock encrusted in ice. Everything was sharp and slick. Barren twigs snapped under the horses’ hooves the higher we climbed, and our voices got lost to the wind. The sixth day, I was closer to the border than I’d ever been during my patrols in the keep’s regiment. It was cold.
Since the rebels hadn’t been in immediate danger, they’d had time to pack supplies. But Alex and Ella had taken off right away for the capital. Their pack was much like my own, and none of us had brought gear for the climate ahead. Each night the three of us took turns casting heat to keep our tent warm, always choosing a protruding ridge to shield us from the worst of the northern winds. The others lent us what they could, some furs and durable wool, but it never seemed enough.
Toward the end of the week, I was ready to collapse. My fever was gone, but what ailments I’d lost had been replaced with a fear of black frost and survival ahead.