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.
“You won’t lose your head,” Wren said with more certainty than she felt. She was staring at his helmet, which he’d removed and rested against their packs.
“No—it’s not that.” He frowned, expression thoughtful. “We can’t take him to the Breachfort, Wren.”
She’d been expecting this from the moment they’d set out together. But after the regent had been exposed, she’d thought he might see reason.
“We need to report”—she waved a hand—“all this. We can’t fight them by ourselves.”
Julian tilted his head at her. “What happened to the girl who was convinced we could cross the Breach and rescue a kidnapped prince all on our own?”
“This is different,” she said defensively. He sounded disappointed in her, and she hated how much she cared about that.
“How?” he demanded.
“Back then I thought I knew everything there was to know about the undead. I have since been proven wrong—repeatedly. We’re in over our heads. The Breachfort will help us.”
Julian stared broodingly into the fire. “I’m not so sure they will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Not only are they the same people who have refused to help us Breachsiders for the past two decades, but I think you’re forgetting how this all started.”
“I believe it started when you attacked the Wall and kidnapped a prince?”
“It started before that, Wren. We were tipped off. Didn’t you ever wonder how we turned up out of nowhere, perfectly positioned to kidnap him? We were told exactly where to be and when.”
Wren did recall some strange details from that day—the blockage on the road, for starters, and the way she had so easily gotten the prince alone. “You’re saying there’s an informant?”
Julian nodded. “Inside the prince’s own retinue. He won’t be safe there.”
Wren looked down at Leo, then back up at Julian. “What would you suggest, then?” she asked warily.
“I say we circle back north,” he replied, speaking carefully. “They’ll assume we’re riding to the Breachfort, won’t they? So heading in the opposite direction will be the last thing they’ll expect.”
“North,” Wren said flatly. “You mean, toward the Iron Citadel?”