Zander gestures toward the tree stump centered in the tent, his voice calm. “Abarrane, take a seat. We will discuss plans while Gesine heals your leg—”
“I will heal on my own,” she spits.
“You can barely stand. And that was not a suggestion.” He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. The icy command is enough.
And he’s right. The obstinate warrior sways slightly, her complexion sickly.
Abarrane eases herself onto the stump, sparing a warning glare at Gesine as the caster kneels before her.
But Gesine’s attention is on Zander, waiting.
He nods once, and she settles her hands on Abarrane’s wounded thigh, her eyes closing.
Abarrane’s chest heaves with a sigh, as if even a second of unwanted magic is already providing much-needed relief from her silent agony.
“We will go to Venhorn,” Zander announces. “All of us.”
All of us, meaning Zander is keeping his promise to get us there. Despite everything, my heart skips a beat. He’s not abandoning me … yet.
Abarrane’s mouth opens, but she falters on her words. Clearly she wasn’t expecting these plans, and by the way her face pinches, she isn’t impressed by them. “You mean to scurry away and hide from your brother?”
A muscle in Zander’s jaw ticks. “When have you ever known me to scurry and hide?”
Technically, we just did, but I bite my tongue. Now is not the time to poke holes in his claims.
Abarrane smooths her expression. When she speaks again, it is more conciliatory. “Why Venhorn?”
Zander paces again. “Because we know the terrain well, and the caves can provide us suitable protection from any army hunting. And, according to Prince Tyree, Ybarisan soldiers have concealed themselves somewhere in those mountains with their vials of poison to distribute across Islor. We need to find them.”
Her laugh is mirthless. “I spent hours familiarizing him to my blade, and I obtained nothing but blatant lies. You trust that lech to tell you the truth?”
“He did not tell me anything. He told Romeria the day she went to him in the dungeon.”
“When he shattered her face against the bars?” Cold eyes flash to me, and I’m sure she’s picturing herself doing the same. And enjoying it. “You told me that visit was fruitless.”
“I lied,” he says without hesitation. “I did not know who to trust with the information, so I trusted no one. But those lies end now. You are my loyal advisor, and if you are to follow me down this path, you deserve to know what cause you are fighting for. You deserve to know what Romeria truly is.”
My stomach sinks with cold realization. He said to keep that secret to ourselves, that telling Abarrane would be too risky. Based on her reception of me so far, I’d argue he was right.
But something has changed.
Zander turns to face me, firm resolution in his jaw. “The woman who stands before you is not from Islor or Ybaris or any other realm we have ever heard of, and she was sent here to wreak havoc on our world.”