“It’s one of Pa’s favorites.”
Huh.Emeline had brought him to visit Ewan Lark a handful of times. But Hawthorne hadn’t seen Ewan since … well, since he’d started avoiding Emeline.
“Can we leave?” she whispered.
He nodded. With no shadow skins lurking about, there was no need to stay.
Weaving his fingers through hers, he led her up the steps and out of the house, to where her horse waited.
They rode back side by side and stopped at the city stable. Hawthorne dismounted from Lament as he waited for Emeline to untack her horse; then he walked her home.
She lived in a white row house with terra-cotta roof tiles—a gift from the Wood King—and when they stood before the front door, Emeline turned to him. For a moment, he thought she might invite him in. Feared it, actually. If she did, he wouldn’t say no.
But all she said was, “Good night, Hawthorne.”
Disappearing inside, she shut the door behind her.
THAT NIGHT, HAWTHORNE’ S MINDwas a riot of thoughts. Trying to quiet them, he took Lament on a long ride through the woods. They rode past the Song Mage’s estate. Past the Heartwood. They rode farther than he’d ever ridden since coming back to himself.
They finally stopped on a cliff top overlooking a steep ravine. The lights of the King’s City glowed in the far distance. The night was quiet. The only sounds were his and Lament’s breaths.
Hawthorne wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find here. The only thing waiting for him was himself: a man who wanted what he was afraid to have.
“Moping, are we?”
Hawthorne and Lament both turned their heads to find Sable approaching from behind, sitting astride her own horse.
How had she found him? He didn’t even know where he was going until he got here.
Her horse stopped beside Lament. “Did you find the shadow skin?”
He threw her a look. “Was there one?”
The corner of her mouth turned up, but she said nothing.
The sky lightened. Silence fell on the cliff top as they stared across the ravine, which was turning gold beneath the rising sun.
Hawthorne ran a hand through his hair. “I did a terrible thing to her,” he said. “Who’s to say I won’t do it again?”
Who’s to say she’s not better off with someone else?
“You were an idiot, that’s for sure,” said Sable. “But your intentions were noble. You thought she’d be throwing her life away on you. You did what you did because you felt unworthy of her. Frankly, you’re doing the same thing now.”
“What?” He turned to find her golden gaze piercing him. “How?”
“You took her choice away by cutting her off from her memories, and you’re taking her choice away again by cuttingyourselfoff from her. So if you want to be better, all you have to do is stop being that guy.”
Sable turned her horse away from the cliff edge, heading back.
“Trust her,” she said, before disappearing into the woods. “Let her make the choice. But you’ll have to hurry. The Frost King leaves at dawn.”
Hawthorne glanced at the sky, which was pink with the sunrise.
Shit.
HAWTHORNE AND LAMENT RACEDback through the woods. Straight to the palace. But not even an ember mare could outrun the sun.
They were too late. The Frost King had already left.
