“Yes, but that’s dangerous enough,” Judd puts in.
I shake my head, growing more and more nervous that they’ll take this out of my hands and do something unforgivable. “If we kill her for knowing, we’re no better than Midas. It’s what he would do if he found out Rissa knew,” I argue, my conviction bleeding through my throat to coat my words. “She’s done nothing wrong. The only thing she’s guilty of is being in the same room when I gold-touched Captain Fane. She doesn’t deserve to be killed because of that.”
Osrik opens his mouth to argue again, but a shake of Slade’s head has him snapping it shut, a glower lowering his heavy brow.
I turn to look at Slade. “You won’t hurt her. Promise me.”
His hesitancy has my tension rising and my ribbons ruffling out behind me, but he tips his head. “I give you my word. In fact, I’ll even extend an offer to her and to the other saddle she wants to escape with.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we leave, both women can come with us. It’ll be grueling travel, but they’ll be safe. It’s not completely selfless, of course,” he explains. “It would also mean that I could keep an eye on her and ensure she didn’t speak your secret.”
My lips part in surprise at the offer, and I lower myself back down on my seat. “You’d let Rissa and Polly go with you?”
“Go with us,” he corrects, black eyes boring into mine. “If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of your damned mind.”
A soft smile tilts my lips, and I have to stop myself from reaching up to smooth away the frown puckering his brow. His shoulders have gone stiff, as if he’s anticipating me telling him I’m not leaving.
“I’m ready to leave as soon as we find Digby.”
Relief washes over his expression. Beneath the table, his hand comes down to rest against my thigh, warmth spreading from his comforting touch. “Good.”
“It has to be secret,” I warn him. “Midas can’t know.”
“Midas can go fuck himself,” he retorts hotly.
This male.
“I’m serious, Slade. I don’t want you two waging war. Not over me. No one deserves to die.”
“That fucker does,” Osrik cuts in. “I can’t wait for Midas’s smug head to get chopped off from his neck.”
“I’d like his limbs to get cut off one by one and for him to bleed out slowly,” Judd puts in cheerfully.
“Or Rip could just rot him from the inside out,” Lu offers with a contemplative tap against the piercing of twisted wood above her upper lip, its ruby end glittering like a slitted pupil.
The Wrath nod in satisfactory contemplation while I gape, seriously questioning their sanity. “You three have issues.”
They don’t disagree.
With a chuckle, Slade shakes his head before looking back at me. “It’s late. If you’re going back to the castle tonight, you should leave soon.”
I can hear the other option hanging in the air—if I go back. “As much as I want to, I can’t stay. I can’t risk Digby’s life. Whatever I do is a direct consequence to him, if he really is in Ranhold.”
Please be in Ranhold.
Slade nods, though I don’t miss the disappointment that flashes through his eyes before he looks at Lu. “Can you take her back?”
“You got it, Commander,” she says, hopping to her feet. “Ready, Gildy?”
I don’t want to leave. Going back to the castle feels a bit like walking into a trap, the clamps of iron teeth ready to shackle my feet in place with its piercing hold. But I don’t say that, because I know as well as Slade that I really do have to return. I have to keep up the facade until Lu can find Digby.
Slade gets up, his hand taking mine as he follows beside me out of the tent.
“I’ll walk you to the camp boundary. Then I’ll let Lu take you so that she doesn’t strain her magic. I want to make sure you have no problems getting back inside,” he tells me while we begin to make our way through the snow. A fog has settled around us, socked in with milky condensation, giving the camp an eerie glow that hugs the campfires.
With Slade on one side and Lu on the other, I feel protected, reinforced just by their presence. “Thank you,” I tell them, watching my boots sink into every slogged step.
Slade tosses me a look. “For what?”
“Everything.” That one simple word encompasses a vastness I can’t quite express. I can tell they’re waiting for me to elaborate, so I say, “You’re all just so willing to help me. Even though I’m nothing to you.”