Never once.
Until now.
Kestra halted our horse, her entire body suddenly as rigid as a board. Without a word, she slid off the horse from one side and I dismounted from the other, though that was far too elegant a word for my sloppy half-fall to the ground. Open road stretched out in both directions, leaving us completely exposed. Above every other emotion currently twisting inside me, our open position made me nervous.
Kestra remained exactly where she was, forcing me to limp around the horse. She faced me with fisted hands on her hips, ready to run if necessary. As if, in my current state, I had any chance of catching her.
I was still at a distance from her when I stopped, and kept my hand far from my sword. "You lied to us--to me--about who you really are."
She didn't flinch. "You have orders regarding who I really am."
"I would never hurt you, Kes."
"Are you sure? Eventually, Tenger will find out the truth. What happens when he commands you to execute the Endrean girl? Me."
I'd already considered this possibility when she was a Dallisor. My answer wouldn't change now. "I would go to my death before causing yours."
"You said that all Endreans eventually go bad. What if it's only a matter of time before I become just like Endrick?"
Most Antorans believed this wasn't a question of "what if," but a question of "when." The Halderians had nearly been wiped out by the Endreans. They would never trust one again. The Coracks were so certain of the Endreans' corruption that our orders were uncompromising, unforgiving. I was left to stand across from a girl who made my heart race, wondering if one day she'd put a knife through it.
Anxious to find any way to save Kestra, I remembered a theory about the Endreans. We had no evidence to support it, but it was her best chance to survive. Probably her only chance. "You have no magic now, so let it be. Maybe the lure of power becomes too great, or magic depletes the soul. Or maybe the water in the Blue Caves somehow taints the magic. I don't know why, but it always corrupts."
She wasn't convinced. "And if I never obtain my magic, would you still trust me to join the Coracks, to fight at your side?"
Now I took a single step forward, ignoring the pinch in my lungs. "Kestra Dallisor earned my trust. Kestra the Endrean will not lose it."
She shifted away, putting more distance between us than before. "I doubt your captain will see things the same way."
He wouldn't, nor would most Coracks. Even if Tenger allowed her to join us, Kestra would charge into battle, never knowing if her greater enemy was ahead of her, or at her back.
My failure to answer seemed to deepen her sadness. It was thick in her voice when she said, "This is why I've said there's no future for us. Surely you understand that now."
"No, I don't understand! Forget what Tenger believes! I don't know your future, or mine. But I know who you are today, and how I feel about you. Whatever your name, or your past, or whoever you will be tomorrow, I still want to be ... yours." With that, I stepped forward again, and this time she didn't back away.
Kestra's smile came slowly, but it was real and it was for me. She started to speak when a loud cry overhead rang through the night air.
She was the first to recognize it. "Condors." Kestra grabbed my arm, yanking me face-first to the ground. A shock of pain lit across my injured back and ribs, and flashes of light appeared in my vision.
Wind from the condors' wings rushed past us, their screeches boring through me like a drill. I covered my ears, still fighting the echoes of pain reverberating through my body. Kestra probably didn't realize how hard she had pulled me down.
"These condors don't have riders," she said. "That's better, but we have to stay low."
The horse we had used to escape bolted away upon hearing the next screech. Kestra called after it, but to no avail.
"Keep your head down," she told me. "These condors notice faces, and movement."
I probably couldn't have looked up anyway, and I certainly didn't feel like moving, or breathing for that matter. Had we crashed onto solid rock?
A tremulous, high-pitched neigh rang through the air, overpowered by the condors' screech. The powerful flap of wings rushed more wind over me, and then it was silent.
"I think they took the horse," Kestra mumbled. I opened my eyes to see her beside me, visibly trembling.
Tenger had once described to us being in a battle where condors had plucked grown men from the ground, flying them off to their doom or to the bowels of a dungeon to be tortured for information. But clearly they were strong enough to carry a horse as well. Hardly comforting news.
"Henry Dallisor reported us to Endrick, who sent his condors for us," she said. "Endrick expected we'd be on that horse."
"At least they're gone."
But her eyes only widened. "The Dominion doesn't give up, Simon."
Neither did I. Holding my breath against the pain, I forced myself to my knees. It was too dark to see much, but I already knew our options were spare. The road we were on cut across a slope. Below us was tired grassland and thin bushes. Farther uphill, where the slope began to flatten out, was All Spirits Forest. Kestra had seen it too.
"Don't you dare." I was firm on this. "If Dallisor blood would've gotten you killed in there, imagine what would happen to an Endrean."
"We're no better out here! By now, Endrick will realize we weren't on that horse. Something else is coming."
In answer to her warning, the road began vibrating beneath us, a low hum that was quickly growing louder. Coming closer.
Kestra turned sharply. "Oropods!"
Dust was kicking up on the road, though with the hills between us and Highwyn, I couldn't see anything yet. It amazed me how on only two legs an oropod managed to turn up more dust than a half dozen horses. I guessed at least six of the lizardlike creatures were headed our way, and each of their riders would be well armed. At the rate the dust was rising, I guessed we had less than five minutes.
Desperately, I looked uphill again. How many times had I been warned not to go into that forest? Tenger had even forbidden it to the Coracks, unless there was no other choice.
There was no other choice.
Kestra helped me to my feet, and together we began clambering up the slope, slipping on dewy grasses or tripping over embedded rocks. We weren't yet halfway up when the first oropod reached the road directly below us. Every rider had a revolver that shot off fire pellets. I'd seen them many times before in skirmishes with Dominion soldiers. When the pellets connected with metal, they exploded in seconds. But at night, when they carried a visible glow, the Coracks had a way of dealing with them. One I rather enjoyed.
"Keep running," I told Kestra, then pulled out my sword, angling it over one shoulder.
When the spray of pellets came close, I swung out my sword, hitting them back toward the rider, where they exploded on contact, killing him. His oropod started to run free, but its reins were caught by a second rider who had arrived. It must not have known this man, because the oropod immediately bit into his arm with fangs that punctured deep into the flesh. By then, five other riders had arrived and it took all of them to rescue their companion. That gave us time we desperately needed. I'd sacrificed my ribs for that swing. Breathing hurt. Running was torture.
Kestra ran back down to me, taking my sword in her hands. "Come on." After a short run, we were beyond the reach of fire pellets, but not the oropods.
The riders wouldn't want to enter the forest, any more than I did. The remaining five slid out of their saddles, briefly conferring. Then I heard the order to their oropods: "Kill."
Kestra redoubled her efforts to pull me uphill. I did what I could for myself, but remained on my feet more from sheer willpower than physical strength. My legs were no sturdier than saplings, and my lungs couldn't draw a full breath. Since swinging the sword, my vision had blurred, making me stumble with every step. Oropods were pursuing us with jaws open wide and eager fangs. So maybe it wasn't willpower moving me
uphill, as much as it was an overwhelming desire to not be eaten.
"Keep going!" Kestra stopped and I turned long enough to see her swipe at an oropod, but I was too dizzy to see what she did next. Seconds later, I heard the animal's shriek of rage. When Kestra took my hand again, hers was wet. Blood? Her blood or the oropod's?
Then her arm went around my shoulders, bracing me and pushing me uphill again, toward the fringes of the forest. With the rising moon ahead of us, long shadows fell at our feet, spiny gray fingers cast by the burned, blackened trees. They sent a chill through me every time I crossed through one, as if each shadow stole a piece of my soul for itself. It was impossible to believe that this was the safest of our options.
On its first brush through one of those shadows, an oropod that had been following us arched high onto its hind legs, pulling back its front claws as if burned. Spitting with anger, it stopped on the exact line of the shadow, refusing to cross through it. None of them would.
I suggested we stop at the shadows. If the oropods wouldn't enter, why should we? But Kestra was still pushing us into the trees and I knew why. The soldiers were not finished.
At least one had followed us up the slope. A fire pellet hit the blade of my knife. Before I could react, it exploded against my thigh, searing my nerves. I didn't know how close Kestra was, if she had been caught in the blast too. But there was no time to think of it. Spotty lights filled my vision, brighter and brighter until everything suddenly went dark.
My body crumpled to the ground.
I awoke to the impossible. If anything I remembered from before I passed out had been real, then how could I be free of pain now? My eye that had been nearly swollen shut felt normal. I was breathing easily, without effort or thought. I felt strong and perfectly warm.
Also, I was sitting in a pool of warm water.
Where was Kestra?
My head had been resting on a mound of dirt at the edge of the pool. I raised it to look around. It was shortly past dawn, and I was somewhere inside All Spirits Forest. That much was obvious. No place like this existed anywhere else in Antora, maybe nowhere in all the world.
The trees here were thick, or had been years ago. Now all that remained were branchless black logs that stayed upright only from a memory of their past glory. The ground was scorched too, the earth refusing to regrow even a single blade of grass.
When the tide turned against the Halderians during the War of Devastation, many of them had fled into these woods to hide. Ignoring their pleas for mercy, Endrick used magic to build invisible barriers, locking in all those who had come here to hide. Then he burned the entire forest, a final act of brutality before the Dominion claimed victory in the war.
Since the war's end, nothing had changed here, nor would it ever. The spirits of those who had died still roamed the woods, forever unable to leave their borders, but eager for vengeance upon anyone with the enemy's blood, should they dare to enter the realm.
I sat fully up, alarmed. Maybe I was accepted here, but where was Kestra?
She must have survived long enough to bring me to this pool. I called her name and started from the water before I heard her voice behind me.
"You look better."
Startled, I splashed backward, then turned to see her.
Kestra stood in front of me, cleaned up from the mud from last night, but still looking more like an abandoned orphan than nobility of the Dominion. Her dress was stained with dirt and had been cut in jagged tears just below her knees. Her hair was tangled and hung loose on her shoulders. But her smile was genuine, and her natural beauty made the ruby necklace around her neck sparkle brighter. That necklace was her final link to the Dallisors.
"You're all right." I wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm cold, but I'm all right."
"It's warm in here." I grinned and held out a hand for her.
But she only shook her head. "I can't, Simon. You know why."
I remembered now. There was magic in these waters. There had to be, for nothing else could have healed me overnight. Something in her Endrean blood either couldn't, or shouldn't, access the magic.
"How'd you know about this place?" I asked.
"I didn't. I stumbled upon it, almost literally, last night. I thought I'd use the water for a drink and to clean us both up. But the magic started working on you almost immediately."
"And how are you alive ... in here?"
"I don't know that either. I feel the spirits around me. They're curious, and divided on what to do with me. There's definitely an agitation from my presence, so if you're able to walk, I think I've tested their patience long enough."
Without a second's delay, I stood and left the water, to my surprise, drying off immediately. My clothes were burned in places and torn in others, but no worse than Kestra's. From here, I could see her shivering, unable to benefit from the water's power. Hopefully, walking would warm her, especially after we got out of the forest and into the sun. Here, the shadows ruled, memories of those who failed to get out.
I took Kestra's hand, lacing our fingers together, and hopefully sending the message that I wanted to stay with her, no matter the consequences. We faced some difficult choices ahead, and not only because she was Endrean. If everything I suspected was true, we had only touched the surface of the problems waiting for us.
She allowed me to hold her hand, but the walls she kept around herself had risen again, thick and formidable, as if she'd said too much last night and regretted it. Getting anything more from her would've been hopeless, except I had a plan. There was one thing she cared about more than her secrets.
Darrow.
I fine-tuned this idea for almost an hour of walking until we saw the first break in the trees through which we could leave the forest. By then, her shivering had stopped, and hopefully her defenses had softened. On our final step from the forest, I said, "I propose a game. I'll make a guess. If I'm correct, I get to make the next guess. As soon as I'm wrong, the game ends."
She glanced sideways at me, unimpressed. "Why should I play?"
"Because if I guess wrong, you win, and you'll want the reward." I squeezed her hand, knowing full well that losing this game would get me into serious trouble with the Coracks. "We have a chance to get to Silven before Tenger does. If you win, I'll release Darrow to you, without any further conditions."
Kestra stopped, tears welling in her eyes. "You'd do this for me?"
My smile widened. "If I lose. But I warn you, I'm a good player."
She nodded and took a deep breath. "All right, go ahead."
"Darrow is a Halderian."
She shrugged, obviously relieved that the first guess was relatively mild. "To have gotten close enough to pull off my rescue, Darrow must be part of their clan. I think he intended to explain everything at the inn, before we returned to Woodcourt. Darrow must've arranged for the Halderians to meet us there. They'd give me the key to the diary and then once we were at Woodcourt, Darrow could have sat with me to read it. But when you and Trina brought me to the inn instead, Thorne became suspicious. That's why they attacked."
That was my theory too, more or less. A harder guess now. "The Halderians kidnapped you because you're Endrean."
She stopped walking, weighing her answer. "I don't know that."
"You said they tried to kill you. No one would hate an Endrean more than the Halderians."
Her fingers stiffened in my hand, as if she was trying not to make this a fight. "Yes, they made their feelings perfectly clear. But they only told me I wasn't a Dallisor."
I tilted my head, trying to work that out. "You've known that for three years?"
"I didn't believe them! I thought they were trying to divide me from my family. When I asked Darrow about it, he became angry, and I never asked again. But what does it matter if they want to kill me for being a Dallisor, or for being Endrean? Either way, I get the same welcome party."
We began walki
ng again, finally getting enough distance from the forest to see the first blades of grass. I no longer had her hand. This game would only get more difficult, for both of us. Knots were forming in my stomach, warning I was about to stumble upon a guess that would separate us forever.
"Guess number three: Darrow saved your life. Which is why it's important for you to save him now."
"That matters, of course." She looked over at me. "You must release Darrow."
"Why?"
She shook her head. "If you don't know, then--"
"What is Darrow's importance?" As soon as I spoke, the details came together in my mind. "Darrow is a Halderian. You think he might be able to claim the Olden Blade."
She smiled, looking almost pleased that I had guessed it. "He's strong, and he has honor and courage. He would be an ideal Infidante."
"But Tenger has the Blade. I know how cruel he was to you before, but I've fought alongside him many times. There's a reason he's our captain."
"And there's a reason Darrow was able to rescue me from the Halderians. I only ask that he be given the chance to claim the dagger before Tenger puts his choice forward."
"Tenger won't let you decide who becomes the Infidante." The instant I spoke the words, my heart thudded against my chest. Kestra was just as strong-willed as Tenger, maybe more. "No ... it's just the opposite, isn't it? You won't let Tenger choose the Infidante."
"I can't control him."
"But for a few minutes, you did have control of the Olden Blade."
"In the pit? I gave the dagger away." Kestra's voice had risen in pitch. She was nervous. Agitated. I was close to something.
I continued, "I watched you search. You found the burlap sack almost immediately, but you hid it beneath your foot, only pretending to continue searching."
"Because I didn't want to give it to Tenger."
"That's not the point. You never looked in the sack. You just kept it beneath your foot. Why would you do that, unless you already knew what was inside?"
"Is that a question or a guess?"
"It's a fact." I felt bolder now. "You knew what was inside the sack because you put it there. That's why it looked new."
"Ridiculous! How could I get past the guards long enough to plant a dagger in the pit, then return to my room without a speck of mud on me?"