Page 192 of A Legacy of the Light

Reyne and I look at each other, dirty and aching from days of little rest, hardly any food, and a difficult journey.

“What the fuck do we do now?” I ask.

“Wait it out, I suppose,” she adds.

“How are you not freaking out right now?”

“What good will it do?” she replies and folds herself onto the floor and gestures for me to sit with her.

“Something isn’t right,” I whisper to her as I cross my legs underneath me.

She lifts my hands to inspect the chains, prodding and poking at the hinges to see if she can find us a way out. “What do you mean?”

“This camp. It’s not what I thought the rebel camps would be like. There are no shadows, none of them are masked, no Brollachan, and people seemed scared as we were led here. That doesn’t suggest Dorche rebel to me.”

“It could be a ruse. Don’t let your guard down, Elsie,” she replies and drops my hands with a sigh. The chains must be secure.

I consider her words. It could be an act. But whenever I have been in danger, or something is close to hurting me, the Craobh reacts. It will pulse, or release a static energy, or just straight up launch hell-creatures across town squares. It does something. But now it sits squashed between the lace of my bra and my breast as silent as the dawn. Surely if I were in danger here it would keep me safe? Granny said it would protect me.

I don’t voice this to Reyne and we sit in silence as the night sweeps in and we’re left to consider what’s going to happen.

◆◆◆

We’re mostly left alone. Guards enter the tent to give us food and water twice a day, but beyond that, Reyne and I pace the three feet of length we have thanks to the chains.

Broderic hasn’t been back, and no one has asked us anything about who we are and why I have the Craobh. The silence sets me on edge. As the hours pass, anxiety tightens my stomach while I go over all the possibilities of what might happen to us. They range from the naive—we’ll be let go—to the most horrific things I can imagine.

“Let me the fuck in, Brodie,” a voice commands, waking us at dawn two days later. A voice that’s familiar.

“Are you ready to face what will happen if you go in there?” Broderic replies softly.

“I . . . just let me fucking see her.”

Reyne’s eyes widen as it clicks into place. As the reality of who is just beyond the canvas, talking with the rebels as if they know who they are, dawns on her.

I stand and reach for her. “Reyne, come here,” I urge her quietly.

She joins me, and I take her hand in mine in the middle of our tent. I brace myself for what’s about to happen. Reyne trembles next to me and I squeeze her tightly.

The flaps of the tent pull back.

Eòghann steps through.

Tension clouds the air as Reyne and Eòghann stare each other down.

Reyne flies at him. “You traitorous, lying piece of shit!” she screams. I catch her around the waist and hold her.

Eòghann searches her face with sorrow and pain lining his.

“I fucking trusted you!” she sobs, falling to her knees.

I go with her, holding my friend steady as her world falls apart. She has given her heart to Eòghann, and he has been lying to her about who he is. Was he using her to get closer to the general and Tavish? I saw how they looked at each other, he couldn’t fake the way his eyes lit up when he saw her.

He drops to his knees before her, his cheeks wet with tears. Broderic stands scowling at the entrance to the tent with his arms crossed.

“It’s not what you think, Reyne,” Eòghann says.

Broderic strides forward and places a firm hand on Eòghann’s shoulder. He looks back at Broderic, who shakes his head subtly in answer to a question silently passed between them.