Page 21 of Tortured

I lift the dragon stone from my neck. I take Kelyn’s hand and drop the stone into his palm, letting the chain dangle between my fingers one last time.

This is my last link to her. Giving this stone up is like giving Niawen up.

Forever.

Kelyn opens his mouth, but my hand shoots up. “Not a word. The devil knows too much already.”

“I understand.” Kelyn smashes me into an embrace after pocketing the stone. “I love you, little brother.”

“Likewise, Kelyn. Likewise.”

My mother sobs in the background, shredding my heart into pieces. We went through so much to heal her, to save her, and now I’ll never see her again after this day.

“Let’s get you geared up. I’m thinking some blades. A couple of swords and a knife or two.”

I grin at Kelyn, and we walk off to the armory while mother shouts with a broken voice directions at a maid to prepare a backpack of provisions.

I follow Kelyn down the rows in the armory. He stops in front of a rack. “Here. I know you like them.” He gestures to the twin swords hanging in their scabbard on the wall.

“Those are your blades.”

Kelyn takes them down and hands them to me. “And now they’re yours. They’ll fit right underneath your pack so you can draw them from the tops of your shoulders without removing anything.”

He helps me strap them on. His eyes redden more by the second.

“Cut it out.” I pick out a knife and shove it into my boot.

Kelyn holds out another knife as I straighten. “I’m not ever going to see you again, am I?”

I shake my head as I take the blade and strap it to my thigh. “Not in this lifetime.”

“One more for in your pack?” Kelyn hands me a hunting knife.

“I look fit to meet an assassin now, don’t I?”

Kelyn ruffles my hair and sniffs. “Show no mercy.”

“Never, bro. Never.” No mercy is our motto. We never show mercy in our sparring matches.

“You’ll make a great king someday,” I say as I follow him out to the main hall with the knife in hand.

Mother gasps when she sees me. Father’s brow furrows. A servant takes my hunting knife from me, puts it into my pack, and slides it onto my back.

“This is it.” I embrace Mother and leave her in Father’s arms, her sobs following me as I depart.

Be brave, I tell myself. Be brave.

Chapter 11

Since mountains completely circle the highlands, the usual way out is to travel the King’s Highway and pass through the lower gap, a valley between the mountains separating the lowlands from the highlands.

But nothing is usual about my situation. And I want to steer the assassins hunting me away from other people, so I travel south from my father’s capital, toward jagged mountain peaks.

There is a narrow pass to the sea on the other side. A mountain separating me from Caedryn sounds good.

As I hike a worn cart trail, I breathe in as much of the crisp atmosphere that I can, knowing I’ll never see the land of my birth again. I burn the memory of every rock and creek into my mind, and embrace the sun’s rays on my face and shoulders every night.

That’s right, Caedryn hums in my head. Hold on to every last treasure.

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