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I considered it. A safer ascent would be ideal, but I didn’t relish the idea of a narrow valley. It would give an enemy plenty of high ground to rain down arrows on our march.
“I can scout it for you,” Tykas offered, glancing at me. “If Osiel shows me the way.”
Oz narrowed his eyes. “I’ll scout it myself.”
Tykas shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, well. Theron always has the scouts go in pairs. So I figured...”
If he was trying to win over my cousin, he was going about it all wrong by pointing out that Oz didn’t know something that he did.
Zora jumped in. “I can show you.”
The expression on Oz’s face almost made me laugh. He looked as if he’d eaten a sourmelon.
“Uh, thanks, Zora. I mean, Varzora.”
She smiled, her cheeks turning pink. “You can call me ‘Zora,’ everyone does.” They stared at each other for a long moment before she turned to me, avoiding her brother’s objections. “Then it’s settled. Tykas and I will scout the trail and see if it’s safe. The army can rest before we prepare to leave.”
“I don’t know—“ Oz began, and I cut him off.
“Report back by nightfall. We’ll make camp in the forest and rest the army. That way, we can switch back to a daylight march.” Night marches made sense in the desert, avoiding the heat of the day. The elves could see well in the darkness, but the remnants couldn’t and I didn’t want to risk them falling off a cliff. Leading an army of multiple peoples offered challenges I hadn’t expected, but it was becoming easier every day. Now that we were out of the desert, I hoped the tension within the group would ease.
Tykas’ eyes lit up with anticipation. He leaped onto the vanira and offered his hand to Zora; she accepted, allowing him to help her up. Her cheeks were rosier than normal, and she didn’t meet his eye, even as he reached around her waist to grip the reins. I looked between Tykas and Zora, wondering if something was developing between them.
Oz frowned and opened his mouth to protest again, but stopped. “Be safe,” he said after a moment.
“See you soon,” Zora chirped.
I clapped my hand on his shoulder as the pair rode off, already chatting. “She’s a grown woman, Oz. She knows how to make her own choices.”
He sighed and nodded. “Sometimes I forget that I’m her brother and not her parent.” He glanced up at Zora, who was looking back at him as if asking permission to leave.
“Go,” he said gruffly. “And be careful.”
Zora smiled and then turned to Tykas with a nod before the vanira set off into the distance. Oz watched them until they were out of sight before turning back to me.
“You’re sure about Tykas?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t let her go with him if I wasn’t.”
He blew out a breath. “And you’re not just trying to fill the hole Calyx left?”
An ache filled my chest as memories of Calyx surfaced. He had seen the empire for what it was before I had, wanting to help liberate the enslaved. It was the path I should have chosen earlier, rather than resigning myself to my fate under Rhazien’s thumb.
I shook my head. “No, Tykas is braver than I am. I had to be dragged kicking and screaming to do what was right. He chose it in front of his brother and an army.” I patted his shoulder. “Zora could do much worse.”
He sighed. “You noticed that too?”
“Of course.” I snorted. “He’s not like the other snakes. He’s a good man, but he lacks any capacity to hide his thoughts. Honestly, it’s a miracle he survived his siblings.”
Oz chuckled before bidding me farewell, slipping back into the line of soldiers heading toward the grassy foothills.
The decision to stay for a whole day felt right. The Spider Path was not kind to those who couldn’t see in the dark. And after our nightmarish ordeal with the sand wyrm, caution seemed the better part of valor.
As the encampment grew, it buzzed with life. Soldiers milled about, laughing now that we’d left the heat and weren’t in reach of any more sand wyrms. Kael walked up to me, her eyes impossibly green in the light of the rising sun.
“How are they holding up?” She asked, nodding towards a group of soldiers sharpening their weapons.
“Better now that we have access to a river.” I watched as a rebel dunked a Kyrie Remnant—her skin an interesting mix of ebony and ivory—in the river, her shrieks of rage drawing laughter from the watching soldiers as she chased after her cackling friend.
