Shen dropped his voice. “Even ones that are secretly witches in disguise?”
“I don’t believe you.” Rose knelt in the grass and let the goat nuzzle her hand. “There is no way this is a witch.”
Shen gave her a meaningful look as he stood up. “I think we’ve established that you are terrible at spotting witches.”
He tracked through the grass, where rickety stables winked at them through the shifting mist. Storm trotted after him and then so did the baby goat. Rose eyed the other animals grazing along the cliff edge, goats and horses and sheep, all navigating the fog with a sense of ease that she was sorely missing. Shen returned in his bare feet with an impossibly long rope ladder. He dropped into a crouch and began to knot one end to a jagged flagstone atop the cliff.
“I’m afraid witches don’t fly either. Despite what you might be hoping right now.” He winked at Rose over his shoulder, and she couldn’t help but notice how his nearness to Ortha made him seem at once more relaxed.
“I meant what I said. I’m not going down there.”
His gaze shifted to the trees behind her. “Would you prefer to take your chances in the Weeping Forest again? Alone, I might add?”
Reluctantly, Rose crept back toward the edge. This was it—the thing that would break her. Maybe even kill her. She’d survivedcrossing the Ganyeve. Slept in caves covered in witch markings and almost drowned in Balor’s Eye. Discovered she was a witchandmade her way through the Weeping Forest, barely unscathed. But climbing down these sheer, bottomless cliffs in her nightgown was the last straw. “I’ll fall!”
“Then I’ll catch you,” said Shen, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. He looked up at her, the dying sunlight dancing in his dark eyes. “We’ve come all this way, Princess. Do you really want to give up now?”
Rose looked back at Storm grazing happily by the stables. For one desperate moment, she thought about making a run for her, hopping onto the horse’s back and riding as fast as she could through the forest, across the desert, and all the way to Anadawn. All the wayhome.
And yet... Here she was at Ortha, with a chance finally to find out the truth about her mother.
About herself.
She drew in steadying breath. She was Rose Valhart, heir to the throne of Eana. These cliffs were part of her kingdom. And that meant they were part of her. She would stay for one day. And then she would find a way to escape.
“Very well, Shen Lo.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “But if I fall to my death, I promise you my spirit won’t linger in that forest. It will haunt you until the end of your days, and then when you die, I will berate you until the end of time itself.”
“I’m flattered that you want to be with me until the end of time.” Shen smirked as he unfurled the rope ladder and kicked it over the edge. “And I thought you didn’t much like me.”
“Oh, you know what I mean!” Rose slipped her feet into his worn leather boots and laced them up tightly. They were far too big and in poor condition, but there was something strangely comforting about wearing them. In her borrowed cloak and now borrowed boots, she felt a thousand miles from who she was supposed to be.
“Thank you for the boots,” she said after a moment. “That is kind of you.”
Shen was knotting the rope, making sure it was fastened tight. “Well, considering I stole you out of your bed and dragged you across the country, giving you my shoes before we climb down a sheer cliff that will most certainly traumatize you is really the least I can do.”
Rose scowled. “On second thought, never mind.”
Shen swung his legs over the cliff. Gingerly, she did the same. For a fleeting moment, the princess and the bandit sat side by side, their shoulders brushing as they looked out over the edge of the world.
And then, as simply as if he were slipping into a lake, Shen dropped off the cliff.
Rose screamed. “SHEN! The rope!”
His voice floated up from the misty abyss. “The rope is for you, Princess. Make sure you hold on tight.” As if he could see the horror spreading on her face, his chuckle reached her on the wind. “On my honor, I won’t let you fall from these cliffs.”
Rose clung to the ladder with all her strength as she lowered herself down the sheer cliff face. Her hands burned, the rope chafing the skin on her palms, and still she did not—would not—loosen her grip. Beside her, Shen was scaling the rock with remarkable ease, hisfingers barely touching the stone.
As promised, he had managed to remain close by. Sometimes he was to her left, sometimes to her right, and more than once, he’d scrambled down to help her find her footing when the wind toyed with the ladder. When his fingers grazed her bare ankle, Rose felt her heart thump even harder, but she was too focused on not plummeting to her death to linger over why she’d reacted like that.
“I. See. Gravity. Only. Applies. To. One. Of. Us,” she huffed.
Shen threw his head back and laughed. “You’re not the first witch to be jealous of my climbing skills. Wren always—” His eyes widened, and he snapped his mouth shut.
Wren.There was that name again. Rose was sure he had mentioned it in the caves, too. But why on earth was he acting so skittish about it?
“Is Wren your sweetheart?” she needled.
“No way.”Shen pulled a face. “Wren is my best friend. That’s all.”