some things. The path isn’t long or arduous. We should be able to reach the temple in a few hours.”
“I’ll roust out Ambrose while you do that,” I said. This time I’d be prepared and grab a ladder along the way.
“I’ll help you,” Sondra offered, sounding resigned as she stood. “Ejarat only knows how long it will take, though.”
“No time at all,” Ambrose declared, breezing through the double doors that opened of their own accord, the surprised guards still reaching for the handles. “Really, Conrí. You should know I’m never late. And I love horses. I live to ride. Get your facts straight.”
I shook my head, catching Lia’s amused smile. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
* * *
In less than half an hour, we’d mounted and were riding out. Lia had planned that outfit with this in mind, it turned out—no surprise there—and wore close-fitting silk pants under the robe, in a matching copper color. She’d traded the heels for soft black leather boots that hugged her calves and chimed with copper chains. She also wore a matching black glove on her good hand, which held the reins, while she tucked the twig hand into a loose pocket, the orchid above it lush in similar shades of copper and purple.
Though a crowd had gathered to see us off, showering us with flower petals, once we left the palace grounds, we turned onto a quiet trail through the forest that went inland. “This is the Pilgrims’ Path to the temple,” Lia explained as we rode side by side.
Ambrose and Ibolya rode behind us, chatting amiably about flower varieties, by the sound of it. Sondra brought up the rear, sulking because Ambrose had dodged teaching her to use the stolen walking stick, which she’d brought along, thinking to have the wizard’s undivided attention for a few hours. Vesno, naturally, raced ahead—periodically returning to check on our sadly slow progress.
“Does that mean no parade party?” I asked.
She slid me a tolerant smile. “It does. The journey is intended to be a time of reflection, an opportunity to meditate on Calanthe’s verdant beauty and to commune with Her.”
“Ah. Is that a hint for me to be quiet?”
“No.” A faint line drew her brows together. “I have no intention of communing with Calanthe before I have to.”
“That bad?”
She blew out a breath, glancing at me with a rueful grimace. “That might be overstating things. I’m keeping the communication minimal, regardless.”
I considered that. Lia was no coward, and she’d never shirked from a perceived duty. “I know it’s not because you’re afraid or lazy,” I said, deciding going with that thought was a start anyway.
“But I am afraid,” she replied softly enough that she couldn’t be overheard.
“What are you afraid of, exactly?”
She frowned at me. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I shook my head. “When I’m worked up and worrying about some battle or something, I—”
“You?” she interrupted. “The great and terrible Conrí, worried and afraid?” A teasing smile danced on her pretty lips, but I gazed back at her somberly.
“More than you know, Lia,” I answered. I didn’t say that the most afraid I’d ever been, though, was when I realized Anure had taken her. “Anyway, I ask myself, what exactly am I afraid of? What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
She chewed her lower lip, sharp teeth flashing in lethal contrast to the soft pink. “The worst that can happen is Calanthe will shrug off My grip, rise from the sea—killing us and the entire population of the island in the process—and rampage around the world in an unstoppable destructive frenzy.”
“Well, we won’t care about that part if we’re dead, right?” I pointed out.
She laughed, catching it back as if she hadn’t meant to. “I suppose that’s true. Grim, but true.”
“And if you don’t attempt this thing at the temple, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Tipping her chin as if I’d scored a point, she took a long breath. “The same.”
“There you are.”
She slid me a look. “My feral wolf: warrior king and philosopher.”
I snorted. “Do you really allow asylum seekers to keep everything they bring with them to Calanthe? No tithing or required gifts?”
“There’s a change of subject,” she noted, arching a brow.
“Did you still want to talk worst-case scenarios?”
“No,” she agreed fervently. “And yes, that is My law. Why do you ask?”
“Eh—Percy and I had a disagreement. I ended it by commandeering the Last Resort.”
“Oh yes. He came to Me about that.”
“He did? That was fast.” The little shit must’ve found her while I