you. And I’m not going to do that by sitting around at the local inn.”
I opened my mouth, closed it again, and let out a grunt of frustration. I needed words.
Gabe gave me a smug look. “I did, however, have time to swing past the town and pick up certain essential supplies.” He rummaged through a small pack he carried on his back alongside his bow and quiver and produced a parchment and pen, complete with a small, stoppered inkwell.
I took them from him, but then hesitated, trying to think of the most efficient way to express myself.
“You can write, can’t you?” A shadow of concern crossed Gabe’s face. “The curse doesn’t prevent it? I did wonder since you didn’t seem to have any writing tools with you at the haven.”
I took several steps over toward a large rock with a small flat section that only required me to stoop a little. Placing the paper against the stone, I pressed the pen down.
“But you don’t?” Gabe frowned over my shoulder.
I hesitated again before scratching out a longer reply.
I bit my lip, annoyed with myself. Too much detail. This was the problem with writing. I wanted to say too much, and then it ended up taking forever to write. Usually the other person got impatient and had already moved on to say something else by the time I got my full reply out. It was impossible to have any sort of normal conversation.
Gabe, however, had remained silent while I took the time to write out the longer reply, turning to survey the forest, and only turning back when my pen stopped moving. He took in the lines I had written at a glance and nodded his head. His eyes fixed on me.
“But something tells me that’s not all. Let me guess. You don’t like to talk to people this way because they might ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
I flushed, surprise overtaking my anger. Was I that transparent?
His expression told me he disapproved of my secrecy, but I wasn’t wrong. I knew that for certain. Looking pointedly at him, I turned to look in the direction of the Keep, and then back at him before leaning to write again.
“All the more reason he needs to be stopped,” Gabe said. “But I don’t get the impression Cora is the type to go charging off, so I don’t think you would have any need to…” His voice trailed off as he examined my face.
I didn’t write anything, but I saw a question bloom across his features.
“That girl. The one at the castle—Cora’s sister. What was her name?”
Shame pulsed through me, and my hand shook slightly as I pressed my pen to the paper again.
“You told her what was going on, didn’t you?” Gabe asked. “And she ran off to the castle, to…what? Find some way to free you?”
I paused in my writing to fight back tears. I refused to cry in front of Gabe.
My pen pressed too hard against the paper, almost tearing it, and I paused before continuing.
Gabe placed a gentle hand on my arm.
“You were lonely and trapped and given the opportunity to speak to your friend again. You didn’t do anything wrong, Addie.”
I shook my head. I had known Audrey’s impulsive nature—Gabe reminded me of her—and I should have known better. It was my moment of weakness, but Audrey had been paying for it for six months. Because there was no way she would have gone so long without communicating with Wren and Juniper. Not by choice.