And that was why I couldn’t turn back and leave Rylan to his fate. But as I strapped on my scabbard and sword and walked over to the bucket of water the innkeeper had brought us to quickly wash my face, I had to acknowledge the other fear that pulsed deep within me, which I’d been successful in ignoring until now.
As Eljin had pointed out, Antion was besieged from all sides. Threats against the king were rampant. I was Damian’s best guard, and Eljin was the only other sorcerer in Antion to help Damian protect his palace. And now we were both gone, chasing Rafe back to Dansii.
What if I succeeded in saving Rylan but in the process lost Damian?
After a rushed breakfast of papaya, mango, and some sort of bread made with an assortment of herbs, which the innkeeper’s wife called m’katae, we followed the man and his son out into the lifting gloom to get our horses. Rain still fell, but it was more of a soft, gentle moisture in the air, misty and surprisingly cool on my skin. Our packs were refilled with new provisions, again thanks to the innkeeper’s wife.
The son tightened the girths on the horses and led a bay mare over to me. He was tall and lanky in the way that boys who have grown into the height of a man but not quite the stature yet can be. “Her name is Mira,” he said quietly as he handed me the reins.
Mira wasn’t as tall as the dappled gelding Eljin had already mounted, but I still had to quell a rush of nervousness as I gripped the leather in my hands and looked up into her intelligent brown eyes. “You’re a nice girl, right? Yes, you are. You’re going to be nice to me.” I continued to murmur to her as I put my foot in the stirrup and pulled myself up into the saddle with all the grace of a sack of flour being flung over the horse’s back.
Because there were very few horses in Antion, I’d had very limited contact with them. Towns along the main roads like this one usually had a few, and those who traveled by cart to sell their wares often had one. But no one had owned any in my village growing up. The commanding officer who had drafted us into the army had an enormous roan stallion, but the rest of us had marched behind the horse as we went from town to town, heading toward Tubatse and the palace. That was before Marcel and I distinguished ourselves through our fighting in the test given at Tubatse, allowing us to move to the palace to train and eventually earning our spots on the prince’s guard. Damian also had a horse, and before our “abduction” to Blevon, he’d ridden it quite often, but since being crowned king, he’d had little chance to ride anymore. I wondered if he missed it as I sat awkwardly upon the huge animal, staring down at the ground that was now much too far away from my feet for comfort.
“Ready?” Eljin sat tall on his gelding, obviously at ease, while I clutched the reins with a death grip that drained the blood from my knuckles. Perhaps I’d finally found something that scared me even more than snakes.
“Um …”
“My name is Farid Utsel. You will make sure your king knows?” the innkeeper cut in, looking up at me.
“Yes, Farid. As soon as we return to the palace, we will make sure King Damian knows of your help and sends recompense for your losses,” I assured him.
He nodded, his eyes flicking to his son and then up to the heavy gray dawn. The rain had finally stopped, but the air was still thick with a lingering dampness. It swelled up from the dank soil and pressed in from the jungle that surrounded us, the ever-present green fortress.
“You’d better go. This storm isn’t done yet,” Farid warned us, slapping my mare on the rump.
Mira jumped forward, and I cried out in alarm, instinctively gripping her as tightly as possible with my legs so that I wouldn’t be thrown off.
“Shorten your reins!” I heard Eljin shout from behind me. I looked down at the leather straps that were slapping uselessly against Mira’s neck. The ground rushed past us as she bounced forward out of the inn yard and onto the weedy road. I heard the sound of hooves approaching, and suddenly Eljin was there, alongside