Chapter 28

Ren dreamed of her father's death again. Only this time she was led by that shadow—by some version of Clyde—into the aftermath. Those memories were just as gutting.…

The constable was explaining what had happened with the bridge. No one was at fault, he said. An accident. It was coincidence, he told Ren's mother, that all the men who'd organized the canal strike had been in the same place at the same time. No, they couldn't confirm that a meeting had been arranged in their honor. There was no record of such an appointment on any of the official itineraries of Landwin Brood. Press charges? On whom? The bridge? Hadn't they been the ones who were responsible for building it in the first place? It would be like prosecuting the dead. No, there was no point in pursuing such a case. Ren had listened from her room. She'd never forget the younger constable standing outside their window, down in the alley, crying silently when he thought no one was watching.…

Ren stumbled out of their cave. Everyone was still sleeping as she dry-heaved into the bushes. Her hands were shaking. She'd carefully buried all these memories. She'd set them aside, converted her fury into fuel. And she hated how easily Clyde's power drew the worst moments of her life back to the forefront. It was threatening the balances she'd worked so hard to create and maintain. All the safeguards that veiled her biggest secret.

Her stomach churned uncomfortably as she thought about what had happened in the cave. The feel of her hand in Theo's. The way his rose-pale lips brushed her knuckles. But as her mind replayed that moment, Theo's face blurred and widened. It was Landwin Brood smiling at her. His lips were the ones pressed to her skin. Ren dry-heaved again.

No darkness lasts for long.

She heard her mother's constant refrain, their only comfort since her father's passing. Ren had accepted those words, until one day she realized that their family's darkness had a name. It was a person, and people could be destroyed. Her despair became anger. Anger breathed purpose. It had been ten long years since her father's death. Ren had spent every waking moment in service to a single goal. One that even her mother did not know about.

On the surface Ren was a smart girl who worked hard. Her mother believed a fine job with a good salary would change their luck. Ren knew that was simply a means to an end. She needed money and she needed power and she needed a position because the larger goal demanded it. Her eyes flicked back to the mouth of the cave. It looked like a door into the dark.

Ren took a moment to center herself. It felt good to remember her larger purpose. When the contents of her mind were carefully rearranged, all set in their proper order, she walked back into the cave. She nestled underneath her jacket and listened. Next to her, the son of the man she hated most in the world was breathing. One staggered breath after the next. Ren felt her own breathing matching that rhythm. When she slept, she did not dream.

In the morning Cora and Timmons were slightly hungover but otherwise ready for the next treacherous leg in their climb. Theo appeared mostly healed. Ren found that the majority of her aches from the previous climbs had finally faded. Rest came with other consequences, though. They were now blind to the progress and location of their hunters. Time inside the cave had obscured any movements outside it. Had the wyvern recovered? Would it target them as soon as they left the safety of the cave?

And then there was Clyde. It was difficult to imagine him taking the same path they had. Ren wasn't sure what a revenant could offer a group of greedy kobolds, or how he might navigate the nesting grounds of a full-grown wyvern. It was possible there were other paths that intersected with where they were heading. All Ren knew was that they didn't know. And that lack of control had her grinding her teeth as they pulled straps over shoulders and set off once more.

The sun was out, but its warmth was barely felt as bitter-cold winds bit through their clothing. Everyone cast warming spells. Cora suggested adding calf-strengthening boons as well. All of it cost precious magic, but as they set out, the group looked as fresh as they'd been since the waxway room. Ren made sure to remind everyone of the wards they could use if they encountered Clyde, and a plan was made for another wyvern attack as well.

The first half of the hike demanded caution. They never walked out in the open for long, choosing instead to tuck against ridges and duck beneath branches. Anything to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Thankfully, there were no signs of their hunter in the sky.

As they climbed, snow appeared. Thin patches that puddled in the shadiest spots of the mountainside. Nothing too tricky, but Ren knew each mound of snow was a sign of what waited for them in the higher passes. It was well past noon when they reached a flattened sweep of highlands.

There was a pearl-blue lake, good for refilling their canteen and washing their hands. Huge knuckling rocks punched up from the ground like the shoulders of buried giants. Everything else was covered in knee-high grass as far as the eye could see. There weren't any proper paths, which Ren took as a sign that no one had come this way before.

"This might be the last flat stretch before we hit the pass," Theo said. "Should we try to stock up on food? Doubt we'll find anything at the higher elevations."

He tried to make the suggestion sound casual. Only Ren saw the slight shift in his mannerisms. One act of selflessness and he fancied himself the leader. She allowed it for now.

"Cora. Do you have enough magic to spare for traps?"

She nodded. "I'm down to ninety ockleys. If I go below fifty, I won't have enough to mend bones or heal ligaments. I'll set a few traps, but we should conserve the rest."

"Let's collect firewood," Theo said. "Scavenge roots and nuts. Anything edible."

Timmons smiled. "Always such a bountiful feast out here."

Before they could split up and start their search, a sharp bleat sounded. Everyone looked up. On the nearest crest, a family of goats watched them. Ren saw three adults and one kid. They'd come over to inspect what was likely the first human entourage they'd ever had in this highland.

"They're so cute," Timmons whispered.

"Food," Cora breathed back. "Get them!"

The girl darted forward. Somehow she already had one of her surgical knives in hand. Ren let out a surprised laugh as the animals shot in the direction of the nearest cliffs. Cora came to her senses as they started to break away from her, far too agile to be run down on foot. She pulled up short and brandished her wand in a tight, whiplike circle. The back leg of the eldest goat caught in an invisible rope. It was the clearest evidence yet that she'd grown up on a farm.

The other goats scrambled away to safety. Cora threw up both hands in triumph before stalking over to finish her dark work.

"Hate to eat something that cute," Timmons remarked. "Unless we properly season him, I suppose."

She set out in search of herbs. Ren laughed a little at the look Theo gave in response to that. They both went searching in different directions. She threw him a deliberate glance over one shoulder, though, and was pleased to see him trying to catch her eye as well.

There wasn't a great deal to harvest at this elevation. Cora returned with slabs of meat, ready to be spitted and cooked. Theo had a stack of limbs and branches. He was working to snap them into smaller pieces so they could fit in one of their satchels. More fuel for the eventual fires they'd need to light in the more barren passes.

Timmons dramatically unveiled a huge handful of honeyberries. Not fully ripened yet, but none of them complained that they didn't taste market-fresh. Out here anything that wasn't a tuber was delicious. A fire was built. A meal was had.

All of them felt full and happy as the light faded from the foothills.