As if sensing me watching, Jarek’s attention veers my way. I can’t read his expression from here but seeing me observing doesn’t falter his pace.
“Does he know they left?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“And he was fine with it?” Maybe I’m overreacting.
“He is Abarrane’s second, and he follows orders. His order is to protect you. It seems there are few the king trusts to do that properly.”
Jarek and Eden duck inside another tent.
“Yeah, well, my protector seems preoccupied with something else for the moment,” I mutter. Probably for more than a moment.
“He assumes you will not go anywhere.”
“How could I? Sentries guard the entire camp.” I mark four from this angle, and there are likely two more on the side I can’t see.
“And an entire audience of spectators watched as you slipped a necklace off a woman’s neck.”
Her meaning sinks in. “Are you suggesting I try to sneak out of here?”
“Oh no, I would not dare go against the king’s wishes by suggesting you do anything of the sort.” She pauses. “But if anyone could manage to leave without notice, I imagine it would be you. And if you could not manage it, if the sentries caught you, I assume the punishment doled out by His Highness would be minimal.”
Zander would be pissed, but it’s not like I can’t handle that. I’m schooled in angry Zander. He once ordered my execution, after all.
Now that Gesine has planted that seed, my mind whirls. Is it possible? Could I use these deceptive powers she insists I have, that I’m not entirely sold on, to walk out right under their noses? No, not walk out. Norcaster is too far. Ride out. Me and a thousand-pound horse, like a ghost.
Or a chameleon, blending into its surroundings.
Maybe Korsakov’s pet name for me was more accurate than he could ever have imagined.
“Completely off topic, but I’ve been meaning to give you this.” Gesine fishes into her cloak and pulls out the small burgundy satchel that keeps the dried mushrooms. “I think you can decide when you need them going forward.”
Because I will need to mask the scent of my Ybarisan blood if I go into Norcaster.
She offers a second satchel as well. I know the feel of coins in my palm.
“I should retire to the wagon now. I bid you good night—”
“Wait! Seriously, Gesine …” I falter over my question, lowering to a whisper. “You don’t think it’s too dangerous for me to go there alone? I mean, I can’t even make it rain when it’s already raining.” How am I to protect myself?
She pauses as if to consider my question. “I think every choice you have had to make since the day your father went through the change has led you into danger. But they have also been the right ones, or at least the ones that guided you here, to this moment. And every decision you make going forward will be fraught with peril. But you will not thrive waiting for others to make your choices for you.”
She smiles. “Also, your affinities, caster or elven, are only part of what makes you so special, but when you truly need them, they do not seem to fail you. Good night.” Her gaze flitters around us, and then she whispers, “And good luck.”
My pulse races as the caster vanishes into the forest-green wagon, pulling the door closed to remove herself from all culpability. She’s right. Zander would threaten Abarrane’s blade on her neck for even suggesting I sneak out.
What will he do to me if I succeed?
Frankly, I’m too angry at him for treating me like an idiot, sending me off to my tent in heady anticipation of a night with him when his plans included something vastly different. Beyond that he’s put himself in danger by going without me, he didn’t even give me a chance to go in and see what I could learn about my blood. It’s as if he doesn’t trust my abilities.
I’mthe one who tracked down Gesine!
The tent Jarek and Eden tucked into sits quietly, its door flap secured. If I’m going to attempt anything, it has to be now.
A glow catches my attention. It’s Pan—or rather, Pan’s shining mark—as he scurries across the camp, his arms hugging his body against the cold.
I move toward him, hissing his name.