down on a table and ambled behind Bastian.
A swoosh whispered in the air as Barden released a dagger from its sheath. Straining against the rope, Bastian made as much space as he could between his wrists. The rope went slack. Bastian shook his hands free, rubbing his wrists. "Thank you." He stood and grabbed the cup, downing the water in one gulp.
"You won't leave, right? We're in this together?" Barden's eyes widened, realizing what he'd just done.
Bastian couldn't imagine what Marden would do to his brother if Bastian escaped. Luckily for Barden, he had no intention of leaving. Without these men, he had no chance of getting back into the castle for Connor, Fotia, and the eggs.
"I'm not going anywhere." It was a promise he would keep.
They passed the time in a suspicious silence. Barden wouldn't answer him. Instead, he glowered at Bastian, as if his gaze alone could keep Bastian from bolting. Barden was a decent fighter, Bastian assumed since he'd won a place in the Black Guard, but Bastian knew he was smarter, and likely stronger. If it came to a fight, Bastian knew he'd win. Bastian didn't want to start anything, but if Barden did, he'd finish it quickly.
The door swung open. Marden strode in, followed by a few other men Bastian vaguely recognized. They'd ambushed him when the fog dissipated, knocked him silly, and dragged him to the castle on a pallet behind a horse that wouldn’t stop shitting.
"Why is he free?" Marden demanded.
Barden uttered a few nonsensical answers, none of which were fully intelligible. Marden cuffed his brother, and then turned to Bastian. "You didn't leave."
"No, I didn't. I'm with you on this. I told you that before. Maybe you'll believe me now." Bastian crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'll believe it when the throne is secured." Marden nodded to the other men. They drew their swords and pointed the tips at Bastian's chest.
He didn't flinch, even though every fiber of his being was telling him to run out the door. He had to trust them if he had any chance of freeing Connor. "When do I get a sword?" he asked, eyeing theirs.
Every blade was newly buffed and sharpened. He couldn't have done better himself. They might not have been the smartest men, but they knew how to keep their swords in fighting condition.
"Well?" He raised one eyebrow at Marden, who nodded at a dark haired man. One sword stood out. The double-edged blade was lightly stained with the blood of fallen enemies.
"Give it to him, Kelton."
Kelton flipped his sword around, handing it to Bastian, handle first. He gripped the hilt in his palm, relishing the feel of it. He'd created this very sword in his free time at the smithy in Hutton's Bridge, brought it with him when he stepped through the fog. Used it to kill the beasts hidden in the fog. They’d held onto the weapon all this time. It was a beautiful blade, far better than the one Elinor had stolen for him before leaving Ashoom.
It was his past, his present, and his future. Bastian's blood boiled, throbbing in his veins. "Are you ready to fight?" he asked the men.
Marden stood next to him, his hand on Bastian's shoulder. "We are." His hand snaked to Bastian's neck. "But if you betray us at any point, I will tear a hole in your chest and rip your innards out with my bare hands."
Bastian eyed Marden's free hand as it clenched and unclenched. He remembered the blow the man had dealt to his genitals not long ago.
He wouldn't betray Marden unless it helped free Connor, and then he'd run as fast as he could.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Bastian followed Marden and the rest of the Black Guard down a dark alley. Although the sun was still up, the tree cover above and the buildings built into the forest shaded their march toward the castle. Nine left from the Black Guard and Bastian. They weren't an army, but if they could displace the healers who'd taken control, Marden hoped some of the soldiers at the castle would defect to their side.
As far as Bastian was concerned all he needed was to get to Connor and the eggs. If they could free them, they wouldn't need anyone else's help. Everyone deferred to the one who controlled the dragon. Bastian had taken the throne without incident once before. Unfortunately this time someone had given them away.
Elinor.
It couldn't be anyone else. Only the three of them knew about the