“Gesine?” I ask.
“Trying to heal Zorya. She took an arrow.” Zander grimaces at the cut across my chest. “They used your blade on you.”
By sheer luck, or to intentionally disarm me. That last assailant seemed suspicious. Unfortunately for him, the slice did nothing to stifle my caster affinities.
“If you don’t need us here, we will bring the horses to the wagon—” Jarek pauses midsentence, listening. “Do you hear that?” He frowns. “Is there someone buried in there?”
My hope surges. “Help him!”
The three Islorians rush toward the pile of rock.
“Over there!” Zander points to an enormous boulder, and as one, they heave, their powerful bodies straining from the effort. Finally, it rolls.
And out pops Pan, crawling through a tunnel on all fours. He clambers to his feet with a bewildered expression. Aside from a scrape across his forehead, he appears unharmed.
I struggle to stand, using a nearby tree for support. “How are you okay?”
He takes in the debris with wide eyes before shrugging. “The boulders formed a little tunnel where I could crawl through.” He lifts my ring and dagger.
“I hear thanks are in order for your heroism.” Zander holds out his hand. “I will take those.”
“Yes, right. Here you go. I mean, Your Highness.” Pan gives my belongings to Zander and then bobs and bows awkwardly, reminding me of a duck.
Zander presses his lips together to keep from laughing as he strolls toward me. “What did I say about keeping this on you at all times?” He wipes the bloody blade against his pants before tucking the dagger into my holster. “And this.” Collecting my hand in his, he slips the ring on my finger. “Try not to lose this again.”
Flutters stir in my chest as his thumb strokes my palm, but I tell myself it was an accident. It meant nothing. “I didn’t think you’d be able to find us.”
“I wasn’t sure I would. Not until I heard the screams. But before that, I will admit, I was panicking.”
Because he thought he’d lost his key caster, that little voice reminds me. You two are nothing more now. My disappointment flares with the reminder. But I mustn’t be blinded by my lingering feelings and his gentleness, that I know my worth to him.
“What happened here, boy?” Jarek asks.
“I don’t know, exactly.” Pan scratches his curly brown mop. “One minute, my lady was screaming, and the next, the ground was moving and the whole gosh darn thing was coming down.”
Jarek’s expression is calculating as his attention flips from me to the mountain of rock, back to me and the ring. As if he’s piecing together things he shouldn’t be. Couldn’t be.
“Get the horses to Abarrane,” Zander commands.
Another beat passes and then Jarek mutters, “Aye,” and takes off.
“Zander, he—”
“Do not worry about Jarek. Let’s get you to Gesine.”
I reach for his shoulder, intent on using him as a prop, but he gathers me in his arms instead, much like he did the day Tyree smashed my face against the bars.
“Ready?” he asks softly.
Despite my better judgment, I settle my cheek against his shoulder, reveling in this tender moment, however fleeting it may be.
Behind us, Pan hangs back, his furtive glance on the trees in the opposite direction. Now that I’m safe, he’s remembering that he’s not.
“No one’s going to hurt you,” I assure him.
His big brown eyes flip to Zander, full of doubt.
Zander surveys my neck. “That first scream I heard, it wasn’t you, was it.”