“I thought you said he could go fuck his ships?”
Exactly that, actually. But I’m mid-swing in thisfuck you, fuck me, fuck everythingroutine and it seems a shame to back down now.
“Only a fool would be too proud to demand what OrlaithearnedOcruth and Rouste by stepping on that ship.”
“Silver lining,” I mutter. “Should we talk about how this entire situation could have been avoided had you simply been honest with her?”
He growls, the sound so deep and wild even the wind stops whistling, and a deeper silence settles over the camp.
Time to stop nipping at the beast.
I rub at my scratchy, sleep-deprived eyes as we round the large, black barn at the edge of camp that’s seen better days—the sharp smell of manure souring the air.
“I already put the word out about the ships, just in case Cainon decided to pull back. We leaving, then? I’ll need to grab some shit. My sword’s in the cabin.”
Rhordyn tugs the wooden door open, releasing a warm glow, the stablemen already feeding horses and mucking pens. They bow as we pass, though Rhordyn only stops once we reach Eyzar’s stall at the end.
He spins, digs through his pocket, and hands me a small, flattened scroll—black seal intact.
“What’s this?”
“One of my sprites returned with this uncracked. Seems Zali’s gone rogue.”
My spine stiffens.
I set the lantern on a table and hold his shadowed stare, knowing full well the sprites refuse to fly too close to the Alps these days.
“The Stretch?”
Rhordyn nods.
A snarl rips free.
She needed to see for herself. She could’ve fucking told us first.
“You want me to take it to her?”
Silence stews between us while he watches me, jaw set, as though he’s biting into the throat of his own deliberation. “I don’t trust anyone else.”
I stuff the scroll in my pocket.
Rhordyn nods, then gets to work tacking the massive black stallion that looks as restless as his master. Every now and then, the beast paws the straw, puffing plumes of steam from flared nostrils.
Like Rhor, his eyes are black and astute.
Unnerving.
I can tell Rhordyn’s mind is far from here as he buckles the saddle. It’s not until he’s led the beast into the crisp morning air and is climbing atop its back that I let my musings spill.
“I did warn you this would happen.”
He snarls, and Eyzar paws his agitation deep into the mud. He does a tight spin, ready to run.
“The wheels are in motion, Rhor. We both know where this ends. It was over before it started.”
More blood drips from his hand. “What if it’schanged?”
I frown. “What?”
