Bonesmith (House of the Dead, #1)(102)

That being said, they needed to get a jump on things, and as Julian was leading the way, she offered to ride with the prince for the first leg of their trek.

“Are you sure you two don’t want to ride together?” Leo asked innocently, and Julian cast a curious—maybe even suspicious—look over his shoulder. “Since you’re, ah, better acquainted and all?”

Julian flushed.

Leo grinned.

Wren punched him on the shoulder, and he laughed.





THIRTY-SIX


Their journey away from Caston went much faster than their journey toward it, thanks to the horses, of course, but also the lack of detours like being set upon in the woods or falling into the Breach.

Leo did have a moment of panic when he realized what route they were taking, however.

“Wait—we’re cutting through the Haunted Territory?” he’d demanded before leveling Wren a curious, appraising sort of look. He didn’t fully understand her apparent control over the undead, though he had witnessed it with those iron revenants.

“It’ll be fine,” Wren had promised, and he’d taken her at her word, though his shrewd expression told her she’d have to explain herself eventually.

When hours passed without any undead crossing their path, he relaxed a little, though their absence actually made Wren feel more tense. Had the queen summoned them to her side? Were they gathering to mount some sort of attack? Or was it something to do with Wren herself? Did she repel them, or did they sense her desire to be left alone and obeyed her even without words?

Julian had pushed them hard to the tree line, and now they traveled along its edges. He looked at Wren. “Is it safe, do you think?”

He obviously wanted to disappear into the forest before the sun rose in case any Red Guard managed to follow their trail. He seemed okay, despite everything that had just happened and all he had discovered. He looked different, though, with his helmet back on. More like the enemy she had fought against, not the ally she’d come to fight with. She focused on the dent, on the proof of passing time and shifting allegiances.

She hadn’t been able to overhear the conversation between him and his uncle in that room, but maybe Leo would tell her about it. Or maybe she should let Julian share, if he wanted to. Whatever the case, he appeared more determined than ever to get the prince away from the man.

“As safe as anywhere,” she said, looking around. “I don’t sense anything, which either means there’s nothing nearby or I’ve lost whatever boost of power that well gave me.”

“Boost of power?” came Leo’s voice, slightly slurred and reverberating into Wren’s back. He’d fallen asleep hours ago.

She jumped, startled. “I’ll explain later,” she muttered.

Brow furrowed in thought, Julian edged his horse closer. He leaned forward in the saddle, reaching for Wren—or rather, for one of the throwing blades she kept in her bandolier. After testing the weight—bone was lighter than iron—he turned and flung it end over end somewhere into the trees. It landed with an echoing thump.

He tilted his head at her. “Can you find it?”

He was trying to test her range, and it was as good an idea as any. She would normally lose track of a bone weapon if it was farther than ten feet or so.

But not only could she sense the knife—easily twenty feet away—but with her hand outstretched, she summoned it back, yanking it from the wood and catching it deftly as it whipped through the air.

“Impressive,” Julian said. “I think we’re good to stop here for now.”



* * *



Rather than seek out another watchtower, which would keep them protected but also trap them should any Red Guard or undead descend—to say nothing of the danger the horses would be in—they camped in a hollow ditch beneath a massive fallen tree, the roots providing cover for themselves and the horses.

Julian got the fire going while Wren cobbled together a meal with whatever rations she could find in the saddlebags. Leo, meanwhile, wrapped himself in a blanket and curled up next to the flames.

Julian raised his brows. “Don’t strain yourself, Your Highness.”

Leo cracked a single eyelid. “I don’t intend to.”

“Clearly not. We’re all tired; the least you could do is help.”

“While you two were chumming around for the past week,” Leo drawled, eyes closed again, “I was alone. There was no one to watch my back, so I didn’t sleep. I didn’t rest.”

Julian caught Wren’s gaze over the fire, and she had to admit that while their travel was far from uneventful, they’d had each other. She’d hardly call it “chumming around,” but she saw his point. Especially when you took the kissing into consideration.

“So, excuse me for taking advantage of the current circumstances. And believe me,” Leo added, shifting into a more comfortable position, “I’ll be plenty helpful when we arrive at the Breachfort—if you want to keep your head, that is.”

Wren rolled her eyes, but he wasn’t wrong. They’d need Leo’s testimony to keep Julian from a prison cell. Or worse.

As Leo nodded off, she and Julian ate together in silence.

“Speaking of the Breachfort,” he said after a while, using a stick to poke the flames.