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I’m coming,she told him in that same nonlanguage his soul had used with hers. Then she lowered her Truth-lens and forced out the command, “Go.”

TWENTY-ONE

They had Cam.

It was the only reason Vivia did not fight: they had Cam, and there was a knife at his throat.

“You would hurt a boy to get to me,” she said, voice surprisingly steady, as if she’d pulled on Vaness’s iron mask. “That is a new depth of craven, Yoris.”

The Master Huntsman gave a croaking laugh. “I would use anyone if they’re a traitor to the throne. Even you.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, gaze roving up and down Vivia. “Well, ‘traitor’ is the nicest word they’re calling you these days.”

Vivia smiled, a cold thing that did not bare teeth and did not reach her eyes. She had never liked the Nihar family’s Master Huntsman. He hated anyone who was not Nubrevnan, anyone who was not male. “Hoping to get that reward?” she asked. “I heard it was up to two thousand martens now, though I promise he’ll never pay.”

Another croaking laugh and Yoris limped her way. He’d always claimed his scars came from a fight with a sea fox, but Vivia had always found the idea laughable. People did not survive fights with sea foxes.

They also did not survive fights with her, and her magic itched to be set free. She ached to use the waves battering against the cliff, but with that knife against Cam’s throat—she couldn’t risk it.

“Rewards are trivial,” Yoris said once he’d stopped before her. “What I’m hoping for is to please my king. Now if you’d be so kind as to give me your hands.”

Vivia’s mouth twitched, but she obeyed. Not that the ropes Yoris bound around her wrists would stop her magic—which he seemed to realize, for once they were knotted with painful tightness, he said, “Now here’s how this will go, Princess. You are gonna walk in the middle of our line. Your boy here will be just behind, a knife at his back and crossbows aimed at both of you. If there’s any sign of trouble, we’ll drug you. I’ve got a nice sleeping dart ready. Do you understand?”

“You can try that.” Her eyes locked on his. “But I have a ship filled with a loyal crew and loyal witches. You won’t get far.”

“You meanhada ship.” Yoris winked. His scar gleamed. “They’ve been dealt with, just like we’re dealing with you, and no one will be coming to your aid.”

Vivia did not react. Somehow, though the water shouted at her to be used and though her stomach had fallen all the way to her toes, she let nothing reach her face. “Did you kill them?”

Yoris grinned. “Only the ones who wouldn’t bend. Now walk.” He pointed toward the forest with his three-fingered hand. “And remember that crossbow aimed at your head.”

Vivia walked. Not because she wanted to but because she saw no other choice. Every escape she imagined ended in bloodshed. Every attack she plotted ended with Cam dead upon the bone earth. So she did as she’d been ordered, and she walked. All through the night, with Cam just behind her. Mile after mile, with her blood simmering into rage.No regrets, keep moving,she told herself, but the usual refrain did nothing. She was furious in a way that made her eyes cross and her heart thud against her ribs. Yoris would pay for this. Dalmotti would pay.

They hiked for hours, the world silent save for the sea’s breeze and rhythmic waves, until they were too far inland to hear even that. Yoris was the first to finally speak, his voice rough despite a guzzle of water from a flask at his hip—water he did not share. “You aren’t going to offer me anything, Highness? Try to top your father’s reward or convince me that he’s the traitor?”

“No.” Vivia’s voice was rough too, and hell-waters, she would have killed for a drink. “We both know it would only be a waste of my breath. You’ve made up your mind about me, and well… everything I thought about you has been proven true.”

“Heisthe traitor, though,” Cam said, softly at first. Then a bit louder. “Serafinisthe traitor. The crown belongs to Vivia, not the King Regent.”

“Is that so?” Yoris slowed to a stop, forcing everyone to halt as well. They were beside a low ditch through which water once ran. Now it was only a scar upon the yellow earth. “Forgive me if I don’t believe the boy whose loyalty changes like the tide—oh yes, did you think I wouldn’t remember you? I recognize you from Merik’s crew, even if you had ship’s-boy braids then.”

“It ain’t like that,” Cam began, but Vivia shook her head.

“Don’t bother fighting him, Cam. His mind is made up, and we can’t change it.”

Yoris sneered. First at Vivia, then at Cam. His scars scrunched into wicked lines. “Seems to me an innocent person would want to defend her name.”

“Seems to me you’ve spent too long in this dead world to know much about people.” Vivia matched his sneer. “Or much about what happens in the capital. Where’s my crew?”

His face briefly smoothed with surprise. Then somehow he scowled even more deeply, even more disdainfully. “You’ll see them soon enough, Highness. The ones that’re still alive.”

Oh, she would make him pay. If he’d truly hurt anyone, he would lose more than just his fingers. “How soon?” she ground out.

“When we reach the Gift.”

“The Gift?”

“Noden’s Gift,” Cam said before Yoris could open his mouth. “The place I told you about with the ship—”

Yoris grabbed him by the collar. Shockingly fast, shockingly deft. “You told people about the Gift? You told the traitor about the Gift?”