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“We came on foot,” Grae said.
“On foot?” Malou’s cloudy gray eyes widened. “You were planning on crossing the Stormcrest Rangeson foot?”
“Yes.” Grae narrowed his gaze at me. “We were eager to catch up to Calla.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I’d told him not to follow me. Their grueling trek this far was their own damn fault.
“I’m not walking across the ranges when we have the offer of a ride,” I gritted out.
Pushing Grae felt like walking a knife’s edge, and I knew one more little nudge and he’d relent. I glanced back at Galen den’ Mora. It was filled with warm beds, good food, and curiosities from every stretch of Aotreas. Hiking to Olmdere would be exhausting and take ten times as long.
“May I speak with you privately?” Grae rumbled.
“No, you may not,” I snapped back.
“They’re definitely married,” Malou murmured to Mina.
“Fine,” Grae relented, not breaking my stare. “We’ll ride with you out of Nesra’s Pass and then we’ll break off on our own tomorrow.” He was about to take a step when he begrudgingly added, “Thank you.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling, and Grae’s eyes darkened. If only King Nero could see his son thanking a group of humans. I couldn’t help but drop my eyes to the muscle that popped from Grae’s jaw when he was angry. Goddess, that muscle had a magic all its own. How could I want to run from him and have his lips on mine all at the same time?
The general store owner stumbled out onto the street, looking at the blood-stained road with an unsettling indifference. These sights were probably common in Nesra’s Pass.
“Ye better get on before more come,” he shouted. “Snow’s coming and the high roads will be blocked.” He looked at the group of them—a strange mixture of artists and warriors—and quizzically back at the wagon. “I never saw anything. Get on before you make me a liar.”
“Thank you,” Ora said, placing their hand on their chest with a bow. “Let’s go.”
My mind kept turning back to the bodies buried in a shallow roadside grave. They’d kicked some rubble over them and moved on and it was still more kindness than those bastards deserved. A terrible thought echoed through me: they were Olmderians. Those Rooks, cursed by Sawyn’s magic or no, were citizens of my kingdom. I was meant to be going to Olmdere to save it, but so far I’d only added to the body count.
We rode three more hours, the path a straight shot into the mountains. It took me an hour before I realized that no one drove the oxen. With towering cliffsides on either side of the road, the magical beasts were able to navigate the road unguided, their stamina seemingly endless.
Images of those cloaked bodies plagued me the rest of the ride. How many had I killed? I’d gotten my knife in most of them, but it was probably Grae and the others who ended all but the one I’d thrown the knife into. I shuddered, thinking of the fury on his blood-splattered face the moment I heard that growl and knew he was there.
I sat with the Wolves in stilted silence. We needed to speak with each other, but couldn’t do it in front of the others. I dutifully avoided Grae’s eyes from where he sat across from me. Mina and Malou fell into easy conversation with Sadie and Hector, both parties seemingly excited to have someone new to converse with. I sat listening as dread pooled in my gut. The lies came so easily to them: now that the borders were open to Olmdere, the mostcreativebusinesses would be the first to get in, and those businesses tended to need people skilled with a sword. I hated that cover. It made us no better than the Rooks, but it was conceivable enough to mask our more wolflike traits.
Sadie and Hector already knew how to sign, dropping in andout of Mina’s language with ease. Shame heated my cheeks. I’d prided myself on knowing every language on the continent, but this one had been left out.
“A sorceress Queen,” Malou huffed, brushing her thick brown hair over her shoulder and putting her slippered feet on the table. “How many hundreds of years since the last one of those?”
“The Wolves have gotten lazy,” Navin said. Sadie’s eyes darted to him. “Sawyn was around for decades before she took that throne. Why hadn’t the Marriels sent out their armies to defeat her sooner? Where were the other kingdoms?”
“What good are kings and queens if they don’t protect their people?” Malou asked.
“Yeah,” Hector added halfheartedly.
Sadie took out the throwing knife from her belt and flicked it back and forth.
“Why aren’t we sorcerers?” I asked, drawing everyone’s gazes. “I mean, sorcerers are created by death magic... we’ve killed, too.”
“Their killings were cold and calculated—a clear and unprovoked choice,” Hector said. “They welcome dark magic. It bleeds them of all feeling until they can only care for themselves.”
I shook my head. “It seems a small difference.”
“That pain you’re feeling right now is the difference,” Grae murmured, finally making me look at him. “You can turn toward that darkness or push away from it. The pain you feel about it is what keeps you whole.”
Sadie twirled her blade. “Who did Sawyn kill to turn her?”
“A great many people,” Hector said. “Though I don’t know the first. Probably some poor farm boy from whatever village she sprouted up from.”
