But we had gotten too close to the edge. I could not give away this secret, and he would not give in until he had what he wanted.
Our story was never going to end any other way.
I scooted back against the side of the wagon. Waiting for him to say something and knowing he wouldn't, because nothing he'd say could fix this. A pit had opened inside me, one that I doubted would ever be filled again.
So this was what it felt like when a heart shattered.
If Tenger knew I'd kissed her, if he knew I'd kissed her like that, I'd be expelled from the Coracks. Tenger would say there was no way I could have such strong feelings for Kestra and still be loyal to his orders. Maybe that was true.
Further complicating things was the way our kiss had ended. Kestra was at the far side of the wagon now, staring at me as if I should have some brilliant solution to the hundreds of problems she had created. Maybe if I understood a fraction of the way her brain worked, I'd know what to say. Why did she have to complicate everything? Why did she have to be so complicated, a jumble of lines that intersected and diverged and encircled each other with no discernible reason?
She obviously felt confused, and I couldn't blame her for that. For her, every cubit of Antora had become a land mine. Everyone she met for the rest of her life would be treated with suspicion, because they all had a good reason to seek her out.
So did I, but for very different reasons. Kestra had become like fire to me. I needed her, I was drawn to her, but being this close was burning me. This must be why Gerald had warned me not to fall in love with her. But I doubted I had any choice. Not anymore.
Why did it have to be this way? Couldn't I love her and remain dedicated to the Coracks? Couldn't Kestra become part of the search for the Infidante?
No, not part of the search. Kestra had claimed that responsibility solely for herself. No one else knew where the Olden Blade was, a fact more dangerous than her bloodline. Surely she knew that the future of our entire country was at stake. Why was she doing this?
Suddenly, I began to understand that jumble of lines intersecting and twisting within her. I couldn't stretch them out straight enough to answer any of these knotted questions. I didn't even know where to start.
Across the wagon, Kestra still hadn't said a word. Finally, I whispered, "Talk to me, please."
Before she could speak, the wagon halted. I lifted a finger, warning her to remain silent. Then I listened, hoping to pick up any clue as to where we were or why we had stopped so abruptly.
It was probably nothing. Maybe the driver had simply arrived at his destination or was taking a break to stretch his legs. But it was strangely quiet outside, and my instincts warned me to be careful.
I parted the back flap of the canvas to look out but as soon as my hand was spotted, someone grabbed it and yanked me from the wagon, over the backboard, and dropped me on the ground like a hot coal.
Before I could warn Kestra to run, someone introduced his boot to my ribs, a younger man. At least it wasn't a Dominion soldier's iron-toed boot.
The older man who had been the driver snarled, "Stowing away in my wagon, you thief! You'd better hope there's something in here to pay me for the ride!" He put a boot on my chest, then bent down and pulled the satchel from my shoulder.
I shook my head. "Don't!" But the boot punched down on me again.
The driver stuck his finger through Garr's ring that had been in the bottom of the satchel and showed it to his companion. "Look at what I found! This should fetch a fine price at market."
"Remove that from your finger or I will cut it off!" Kestra yelled as she jumped from the wagon, holding my sword.
The younger man chuckled as he swaggered toward her. "Aren't you a pretty thing? Be careful, or you might hurt yourself."
Her grin darkened. "It won't be me who gets hurt." She lifted the sword with a confidence that would unnerve the bravest warrior and charged over to the man. The tip of it must have connected somewhere, because a second later, I heard him stifle a cry.
"That's a scratch." Kestra nodded at the driver, who had almost frozen in place since she emerged. "You'll get worse if you don't put that ring back inside the satchel and return it to my friend. Now!"
Instead of cooperating, the driver put his boot back on my chest. I didn't know why he bothered. They'd already done enough damage there.
"I've seen your face before," the driver said. "On my tablet, I think."
Kestra didn't blink. "That girl you saw on the tablet doesn't exist. But I do, and my sword is just as real. Let him go."
"Thieves and stowaways," he continued. "The rot of Antora. One day the Dominion will punish you all."
"As they'll punish you for singing?" Kestra asked. "If you were going to break the law, I wish, at least, you'd have stayed in tune."
Surprisingly, the driver chuckled. "A fair complaint, I suppose. Let's not fight here. You're far too pretty an opponent. Pay for the ride and we'll both be on our way."
"We're not thieves, and the Dominion is the rot, not the solution to it." Kestra lowered my sword. "Return his ring, and I will pay you for our travels with this."
I knew what it was, the ruby necklace from her mother, Lily. I mumbled a no, but I doubted that anyone heard me.
"Agreed." I heard the ring drop, and then the satchel dropped beside me. I clutched the handle, dragging it close to my side. Kestra immediately handed over her necklace, and the boot was removed from my chest.
She added, "In exchange for that necklace, you both must promise not to tell anyone you've seen us here."
The men gave a halfhearted agreement that they'd probably break after calculating what the Dominion would pay for the whereabouts of the girl on their tablet.
I rolled to my least injured side while both men returned to their wagon and drove on. Once they were gone, Kestra knelt beside me. "Healing pools are not as common as you seem to think, the way you go around getting yourself kicked."
"Nor are physicians common enough for you to go around stabbing everyone who crosses you."
She smiled. "Remember that, next time you think of crossing me. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. They just knocked the wind out of me."
"Yes, and probably took a few of your ribs with it."
They had. But I hoped she wouldn't notice my grimace as I stood again. She returned my sword, but exchanged it for possession of my knife.
Once we began walking again, I said, "That necklace belonged to your mother."
"The ring belonged to your adopted father."
"And I can't repay you for protecting it. Thank you." I took her hand, grateful for a moment of peace between us. Maybe one of our last peaceful moments.
Her thoughts were already looking ahead. "Those men will report us, despite their agreement."
"Then let's get as far as possible before they do."
"Do you know where we are?" she asked.
Trees were scant here, and the grass was brittle and sparse. The salty sea wind that blew inland left much of this land too arid for farming.
"We're not far from Silven," I said. At our current pace, it'd be several hours' walk. I wondered if Tenger was already there.
"Silven!" Kestra stopped and groaned. "Why didn't I think of this before? Celia used to come to Silven to shop. She claimed that Silven had better markets than Grimlowe, which was closer to the Fields. She lied to me."
"It was the truth, in a way. But she came to the markets to sell, not to buy."
"She sold me." Kestra clicked her tongue in disgust. "I hope I went for a good price."
I didn't know Celia's price for betrayal, only that the Coracks would've paid almost anything for it. And I had no doubt Kestra would find out the full story before she let the matter rest.
A few miles later, I finally spotted the first homes on the outskirts of the city. Farm homes. Maybe someone inside would give us a ride into town, and perhaps have a bandage for my ribs.
"Where do the Coracks hid
e here?" she asked.
"We don't hide. That'd be too obvious. We don't appear different from other Antorans, and we don't act different, at least not in the open. If you could look at me and identify me as Corack, then I've made a mistake."
"Then where do we go after we get to Silven?"
"First, we find somewhere safe for you until I can get Darrow freed."
Her eyes moistened and she stopped walking long enough to release a slow breath. "You're still going to help me? After knowing my secrets?"
"It's because I know your secrets." I sighed, dreading the next few hours. With what I now knew, we shouldn't have come to Silven. Kestra couldn't possibly be prepared to meet Tenger, to stare him in the face and lie about a fake dagger. If the burden fell to me, would I lie to my own captain, a man I was dedicated to serving?
An idea suddenly lit inside my head. The solution to the one question she would not answer. It was equal parts dangerous and cautious, reckless and logical. Kestra wouldn't do things any other way.
I said, "I think I know where the Olden Blade is."
She released my hand and took a step back, her breaths suddenly coming in bursts. "You don't know. You're guessing, hoping I'll give the secret away."
"As we were leaving the dungeons, Gerald wanted to stay with you, but you ordered him to leave."
"Yes, to save his life."
"Or was it to save something else?" Gerald had not spent two decades as a spy at Woodcourt, waiting for Kestra to come of age, only to leave at her first request. "I think Gerald took two daggers into those dungeons. The first was the fake one he planted in the pit. But he also has the second dagger, the real one. On your orders, he escaped with it, right under Tenger's nose."
By then, she was calmer, although she had become silent, her eyes darting around as if searching for a way to convince me that I was wrong. When she failed to come up with a plausible excuse, she merely shrugged and said, "If that was my plan, then admit it's a good one. The Blade belongs to the Halderians, and no one else."
"You think that'll be good enough for Tenger? You think he'll laugh this off, what a good joke you've played on the Coracks, and now all is forgiven? You have no idea how badly you've complicated things!"
"I had to complicate things. Tenger is dangerous!"
"You are every bit as dangerous! If he is manipulating who the Infidante becomes, then so are you!"
"That dagger is ransom for the life of my friend. Do not equate my actions with his."
"What of Gerald's life? Don't you respect the danger he is in?"
Her voice became flat. "Do not lecture me on danger! I know exactly what I've done, and I'd do it again."
I cursed and started in with a retort, but heard a sound in the distance. Horses. I squinted in that direction, hoping it was anyone but Dominion soldiers. It probably wasn't them--they preferred the faster oropods. I then hoped it was anyone but Tenger.
Whoever was coming, my third hope was that Kestra wouldn't be careless enough to speak her Dallisor name. Silven wasn't exactly bursting with a Dominion-loving population.
"They're looking for us," Kestra mumbled. "Should we hide?"
Around us, gorse and heather fluttered in the evening breeze, along with vast patches of Corack weeds. A mouse would have trouble hiding here. Someone on horseback shouted, a voice I recognized.
"Do you know him?" Kestra asked.
"Gabe Willen," I mumbled. He was a year older than me, tall and muscular with coal-black hair that he kept tied back at the nape of his neck. All the girls had eyes for him, and he knew it.
He was also my friend. I raised a welcoming hand and kept my tone casual. "It's just me."
Gabe sauntered closer, his eyes settling on Kestra far too long before shifting my way. A smile widened across his face and he slid off his horse. "Simon Hatch! What stampede ran over you?"
"The other guy looks worse." He laughed when I said it. That was a good sign.
"I heard you were part of some secret plan. Was she part of that plan?" Gabe's eyes returned to Kestra, with a flirtatious smile I'd knock off his face once my ribs were healed. "Who's this?"
"A friend," I said. "Why are you out here?"
"A wagon driver pulled into town an hour ago, trying to sell a ruby necklace he claimed had been given to him by a couple of young people stowing aboard his wagon. Tenger ordered us to investigate."
"Tenger's here?"
Gabe motioned vaguely behind him. "Back there, on one of the other horses. We brought a cart, because that driver also mentioned someone was injured. You, obviously." Gabe put an arm around me, failing to notice my grunt of pain when he did. "Tenger thinks you're dead. We even made a toast to your loss last night. Guess I'll have to take back all those nice things I said."
I tilted my head toward Kestra. "If I'm still alive, then it's thanks to her. Listen, I need a place for her to stay. I'll wait here for Tenger."
"You're hiding her?" Gabe released me and let out a low whistle. "Things just got more interesting. Does she have a name?"
"Not yet."
Gabe circled Kestra, taking her in. He didn't seem to recognize her, and nothing in her appearance would give her away. Her dress was beneath what the poorest girls of Antora would wear. Her hair had been combed out with her fingers. It fell loose over her shoulders, which a Dallisor would have considered unacceptable. She also had my knife again, and was holding it in a tight grip.
But if Gabe knew any details of the mission, it wouldn't take him long to guess at who she was.
"I won't defy the captain," Gabe said. "Sorry, Simon. Not even for you."
"I'm not asking you to defy him." I shuffled forward, aware of the bruising on my ribs. "I'm only asking for time to talk to him. Please, Gabe."
He smiled at her again. "Is her name Alice? She looks like an Alice."
"Call her whatever you'd like. Just help me."
Gabe hesitated, and Kestra groaned, losing her patience. "He won't help. I'll find someplace to go on my own. All I want is the ... item I came for. After that, I'll leave. Tell Tenger that."
"Tell him yourselves," Gabe said as Tenger's horse approached along with three other riders and one cart. Trina was on the captain's right flank, and the cart was pulled by the man Kestra had stabbed that first night, Pell. His glare was murderous, but it was nothing compared to Tenger's icy expression. In response, Kestra's knife twisted in her hand, ready for action.
Tenger's eyes barely brushed over me before they settled heavily on Kestra. "Take her," he ordered his men. "Our business with this girl is not finished."
I had thought I was prepared to face Captain Tenger, but something in the set of his jaw stopped my heart. My grip glove was on his right hand, which deepened the pit in my stomach. Beside me, Simon went tense too. He shouldn't have, not if he still considered himself a Corack. Did he? I tried reading Simon's stony expression, but failed. He wasn't giving up any secrets here. Neither would I.
Tenger's men jumped off their horses with disk bows in hand. Some of the disks they held were far more dangerous than the silvers, and illegal for anyone but Dominion soldiers. Simon probably wouldn't draw his sword against other Coracks, but I had a knife and a simpler morality about using it. If they started a fight, I would finish it.
"She came here to talk with you!" Simon called. "Not to be attacked."
"What attack?" Trina asked, still on her horse beside Tenger, and wearing her usual charming glare. "We just want to talk without her waving a knife at us. Drop it, Kestra."
"Kestra ... Dallisor?" Gabe turned to Simon. "You brought a Dallisor here? Are you insane?"
Maybe he was. Or from everyone's reactions, I was beginning to wonder if I was the one who'd gone mad. Tenger's smug posture only irritated me further.
"You left Simon for dead." I raised the knife, mostly in defiance of Trina. "I saved him. I also gave you the Olden Blade, as we agreed. In exchange, I want my servants back."
"Ah yes, you want Celia and Darrow." Tenge
r looked around him with an amused expression. "Did we bury her driver yet? I can't remember."
"Is Darrow alive?" I knew how desperate I sounded, and that giving away my emotions weakened my leverage to negotiate. But I was desperate, and could never pretend otherwise. "Is he?"
"Barely." Tenger became serious again. "I doubt he's well enough to travel. Perhaps we can find you a comfortable place to stay until he gets better."
A comfortable place to stay? Was it comfortable behind Corack bars? Because I suspected that's what Tenger had in mind.
Keeping the knife where everyone could see it, I said, "Provide me with a wagon, and Darrow and I will leave tonight."
Tenger clicked his tongue. "What a pity. I'm afraid we've recently run out of wagons. But if you'll talk with me, answer my questions, then by the time we're finished, I may be able to locate something with wheels. Perhaps also some food and blankets for your journey ... home."
That last word was meant to injure. Home was no longer an option for me, and he knew it.
"Let me speak to Darrow," I said. "After that, you and I can talk. It's that simple."
"That simple?" Trina raised a brow. "We don't trust you."
"But you do trust me." Simon shuffled forward. "I promise I will not let Kestra do any harm to the Coracks."
It was a carefully worded phrase. He hadn't promised to tell them who I really was, or even that he and I had become something more than ... whatever we had been a few days ago. Simon had only made the promise he knew he could keep. Because I wasn't here to hurt the Coracks, or to add to my list of enemies. But I wouldn't leave without Darrow.
"You owe me this," Simon said to Tenger. "For what I sacrificed in the dungeons, you owe me your trust. I've proven my loyalty."
"Yes, but is that loyalty to us, or to her?" Tenger gave a grim smile. "All right, let's get these two back to Silven, as quietly as possible." He rode closer to me. "How should we address you now? I gather you've abandoned the reason to be called 'my lady.'"
"I'd be happiest if you don't address me at all. Take me to Darrow."
"We'll talk first, over supper," he said. "If I like your answers, then we'll try to locate your man."
"Darrow first," I started to say, but Simon put a hand on my arm.
"Let him win this one," he whispered. "You have bigger battles ahead."