Page 121 of The Ashborn

Broan laughed. When the fuck did she get rope? “You’d rather risk falling out of a tree than be on the ground with them?”

“Let’s not pretend we like each other.” Her voice drifted like a whisper curling around his shoulders. It didn’t come from above the tree. It was as if the words traveled on air, circling him in taunting whirs.

A wind mage.

He should have known with the way she commanded her bow. The wind carried it for her. “You surprise me, Tightstrings.” Broan glanced up once more and then back at the Vikings. “I’m not pretending.”

For the first time, he was torn. His father was right. He did like the Elvish—at least some of them. He’d give his loyalty to Connak, the man who led them away from the tyranny of River Storm. He served Tristian. He had character outside the rest of the Elvish clan that Broan respected. And Danek…his brother.

These Vikings, though. They tugged at his fucking heartstrings, too. Broan wanted to scowl. Brush them away. Caring made him too weak.

Or did it?

Broan sat with Lief and asked him to sing a song. He was on a journey now, one he never imagined for his life. He cared about people. As he listened to his blood brother sing a glorious ballad, his mind trailed their quest. The goddess was laughing as she changed him. Broan tried to scowl again, but he couldn’t find enough malice to do it.

—Tristian—

“We will call a council meeting, High Commander. The Still Court is unhappy.” Seredai brought Tristian to the edge of Trinity to tell him this. Her lilac eyes remained still.

Tristian blinked. Whatever the Still Court felt, he couldn’t bother to care. Let Connak handle it. Or Talon. Maybe Niramelle should be in charge. He didn’t have the heart anymore.

“What do you expect me to do?” he asked, his attention fixed on the grasslands stretching toward the Elvish Mountains, their peaks rising like distant castles—castles that made the forest look weak. Sunlight spilled gold across the swaying blades, soft as straw.

“They want retribution for the lives lost,” Seredai said, hands finding her hips.

“I didn’t realize they cared about the lives out here.”

Seredai’s eyes ignited, lilac deepening to a dark violet as the wind teased through her silver hair. “An Elvish life taken is a blemish on the world’s record, especially one that is burned and cannot be used afterwards.”

Tristain snapped his head to Seredai at the thought of this. He parted his mouth to respond, but Seredai waved her hand.

“Do not pretend you are not one of us.”

Pointless politics. Tristian had grown sick of it in Silverthorne, always fighting his comrades to stay at the top so he could get here. He was sick of it then, and he was sick of it now. He would walk away from his title if he could, but his father had to go and die. Now Tislin was gone. His mother, too. And what had they left him? A scar that ripped down his collarbone and a cursed bond that meant he couldn’t die without taking others with him.

Seredai smoothed her hair, composure sliding back into place. “As a child of Silverthorne, you serve the Still Court. Or did you forget the oath you swore when your training ended?”

Tension crept up as a reminder of all he still owed the Still Court. “I didn’t forget.”

“Good. Then collect the girl. She’ll be dealt with.”

Tristain caught her arm as she moved to pass. “Dealt with how?”

“Elira wants her dead,” Seredai said, violet eyes glinting with smug satisfaction. “I could convince her to allow passage to Silverthorne, though. I want to study her.”

Tristian couldn’t let either of those things happen. He knew it deep in his soul, even as the dark thoughts slid through, leaving him wondering if it might finally give him the peace he wanted. He wouldn’t be a ranger in any form, but the Eternal Mother would find use for his soul.

That was grief talking. Tristian had to shake the tension from his neck. He reminded himself of that as he backed away from the master healer. He’d send Connak to collect Kienna and consider the rest later.

Chapter 49

—Kienna—

Kienna thought she had cleared the council. They didn’t call her in over a week, enough time to let her body settle and her blood flow without clotting at the thought of having to address them. She coaxed herself into going for a light obstacle run with Danek on the Shardborn Island, hoping to ease into more fluid motions again after sustaining so many magical blows from Dove Port. When Connak finally summoned her, her heart sank.

“I’ll go with you,” Danek told her when her shoulders slumped.

“It’s okay,” she said, waving him off.