Tibris would likely have much, much more magic. We all knew the gods kept the majority of our power. Without Tibris’s sacrifice, would our father still be alive?
Fury warred with the terror, and I jolted back into motion. I needed to get back to Galon. Marth’s comment about holding up under torture made much more sense now. What would Lorian do to me if he knew what I’d seen?
I crawled back down the hill. Galon was already calling for me. Brushing off my hands on the underside of my shirt, I sauntered back toward him.
“Sorry, took a while.”
He turned red. I no longer cared about potential embarrassment. I was too busy turning away to pace.
This whole time, Lorian had kept the upper hand in all our negotiations. He knew I still had my power, that the king’s guards were hunting me, that I hadn’t seen twenty-five winters.
Now, I had information on him.
Just how useful was that information? Was it useful enough to bargain with the king for my own safety?
My stomach roiled at the thought, but I shoved the guilt down deep.
The fae. I didn’t know how they’d managed to get into our borders, but they were a threat to everyone in this kingdom. Buried beneath my rage and shock was a sliver of grief I couldn’t seem to kill, no matter how much I tried.
I liked Rythos, with his charming smile and small acts of kindness. I liked Marth, with his lewd humor and devotion to Lorian—even if that devotion had allowed them all to know just how many men I’d killed.
I liked Cavis, with his dreamy eyes and stories of his wife and baby. And I liked Galon, who’d saved my life and never once asked for his cloak back.
I didn’t like Lorian, but I could at least see the wisdom of keeping him alive.
They returned, and I attempted to look bored. Lorian took one look at me and snarled, his gaze taking in the dirt on my knees and the scraped hands I tucked behind my back.
He obviously knew I’d been up to something.
Surprisingly, he didn’t say a word. That, more than anything, was what made true fear shudder through my body.
I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
CHAPTER TEN
“Again,” Galon said.
I sucked in a breath and hit the folded-up bedroll once more. Galon thrust his hand out toward me, and I slid to the side, knocking his hand away with my forearm before striking with my elbow.
According to the mercenaries, Tibris had laid a decent foundation with my training. But that foundation had no roof, and the walls were falling down around me.
Whatever that meant.
Galon’s answer to my weaknesses was drills. Constant, never-ending drills.
Apparently, half of staying alive came down to reflexes. People who could defend themselves automatically—their body responding to an attack the same way it had a thousand times before—were much more likely to survive.
When I was finished warming up, and I’d completed Galon’s drills, the men took turns attacking me in new and creative ways. Each of them had something to offer, although Galon was in charge of my physical training.
I tripped Marth and kicked him in the ribs. Since I didn’t really want to hurt him, I kept the kick light. Galon scowled at me. “You don’t just hit once. You hit them until they stop moving,” Galon said.
I winced, but he was right. Once I lost the element of surprise, I was in big trouble. The only reason I’d managed to stay alive so far was because men continued to underestimate me.
Long may it last.
Lorian stood from where he’d been leaning against a tree trunk, watching everything through narrowed eyes.
“We need to leave,” he said.
I panted out a breath, grateful for the reprieve. Although I didn’t enjoy the fact that it had come from Lorian.
“You’re riding with me,” Lorian said. The expression on his face dared me to argue. If I protested, he’d throw me over his shoulder and dump me on his horse, making it clear that no matter how much I trained, I was useless compared to him.
I itched with the need to stop time and mount one of the other men’s horses.
Curling my lip at him, I stalked toward his horse. “Hello, darling,” I crooned, patting him on the neck. He lipped at my hand, and I laughed. Lorian still hadn’t told me his horse’s name. It was yet another way to annoy me.
I no longer felt like the days were disappearing beneath me. Now, they’d slowed to a crawl as our horses trod on, day after day.
Even though the thought of the city sometimes made my mouth turn dry and my stomach churn, I still longed for it. Right now, I was stuck with no way back, only forward, and the sooner I got to the city, the sooner I could find a ship and a new life.