I nod, not trusting myself to say anything more.
We return to the clearing where the others wait, their expressions carefully neutral, and mount our horses once more, pushing forward toward Thornspire Keep. Ellie rides beside me now rather than behind, our new equilibrium established without words.
The land becomes more challenging. Rocky outcroppings breaking up the landscape, scattered pine trees providing both cover and obstacle. My raven continues scouting ahead, its consciousness merged with mine in the kind of effortless communion that comes from decades of practice.
Duty calls. It always does. But even as my mind shifts back into tactical mode, my thoughts keep going back to her. The way she felt against me. The way she responds to me. The taste of her. The heat between us. I want to ignore it, push it away, but the truth is, I can’t.
Not anymore. Not after what I’ve admitted to myself. Not after what happened between us.
I force myself to focus, to compartmentalize one last time for her sake. For both our sakes.
“We’ll need to tether the horses and continue on foot to minimize detection, once we get closer.” My voice is steady once more, the Vareth’el reasserting control.
Ellie’s voice comes from beside me, soft but firm. “And once we reach the keep? What’s the plan?”
“We need to confirm Sereven’s presence. Then we’ll enter through the western approach.”
“Do you think he knows we’re coming?”
“I have no doubt that he’ll have considered it, but I don’t believe he’ll see it as a true threat. Not so soon after Blackstone Ridge. His arrogance has always been his weakness. We should be able to get inside without notice.”
“But what if heiswaiting for us?” She insists. “What if it’s a trap?”
“Then we adapt.” I meet her gaze. “We’ve faced worse odds.”
The horses slow, as the ground begins to rise, their steady rhythm a reminder of the mission at hand. As we near the outskirts of Thornspire’s land, the ground ahead becomes moreopen. The trees part just enough to offer a small, sheltered dell where we can pause and make our final preparations.
Through my familiar’s eyes, I see the dark silhouette of Thornspire Keep in the distance, its angular towers cutting against the night sky like blades. Sereven is there. I can feel it in my bones, in the shadows that respond to my presence.
“We’ll tether the horses here,” I say, taking in the clearing, its cover perfect for what’s coming next. “Continue on foot to the western approach. Communication by hand signals only.”
They secure the horses where they’ll be hidden from casual discovery, tying them loosely enough to allow flight if necessary. The two extra fighters Varam insisted on will remain behind with them, leaving the remaining four, plus me and Ellie.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ELLIE
What breaks in fire may be reforged, but never into what it was.
Writings of the Veinblood Masters
Dawn is bleedingacross the sky when we reach the forest edge surrounding Thornspire Keep. I crouch beside Sacha in the underbrush, the damp earth soaking through to my knees. Mira and four other fighters surround us, hunched low, weapons ready, but sheathed to prevent light from catching on the metal of their blades.
Ahead of us stands Thornspire Keep. The stone walls rise at least three stories high, broken up by narrow windows that might once have held decorative glass. A single spire rises from the center, the feature that I’m sure gives the keep its name, sharp against the brightening sky like a warning. I bet it was beautiful once, before the Authority stripped it all away.
Guards patrol the outer walls, their crimson cloaks visible even in the gray early morning light. I count eight, each following a set path around the grounds. Their presenceconfirms what Lisandra said. Sereven is here, preparing to direct the assault on Stonehaven from a distance, while people die.
“They look routine,” Sacha whispers, eyes tracking the guard’s movements. “Standard Authority rotations.”
I force myself to breathe. It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve talked about this, I still feel like something is going to go wrong.
“The guard change will happen soon.” Sacha’s eyes don’t leave the keep. “We need to move before the sun rises fully.”
The fighters around us check their weapons one final time. No one speaks above necessary whispers. Despite the exhaustion of riding all night to reach the keep, adrenaline sharpens every sense, all heightened by the danger that surrounds us.
Sacha calls his familiar, shadows coalescing into the raven’s form before it spirals skyward. His eyes turn black and his body goes still. I watch his face, waiting while he surveys the land through its eyes, and wonder if he can sense my fear as clearly as I can sense his determination.