17

Leaving Maford behind is a gift, not a loss, and I allow hope to rise unchecked for the first time since I landed in this dismal place. Battling fire-breathing flies, razor-toothed creatures, three monstrous men, and a giant snake has kept me shallow-breathed. But I believe that one day soon—and maybe with the man riding beside me—I’ll be able to breathe deeply without having to scream, fight, or curse.

I shift in the saddle of one of the three horses given to us by Zinnia Gery. “So, Jadon, anything exciting happening in your life?”

He barks a laugh, a sound sweeter than the hypnotic clomp of horse hooves. He turns to me with a straight face and says, “Same ol’, same ol’.”

“That’s what I figured.” I watch the fog race above us as we ride toward a range of purple mountains so far away, they may not exist. “Nothing exciting ever happens to me.”

He huffs another laugh. I like the sound of it. I like him . We ride together in silence as behind us Olivia and Philia whisper and giggle from atop the horse they share. The farther we move away from Maford, the fresher the air becomes, the denser the fog. The grass in this section of the plains reaches the horses’ knees, and I let my fingers drift across the wildflowers that I ride past. There are no glows of other creatures around us. Just the colors of the horses and my companions, wavering blues and yellows that make a softer shade of green. The nightstar has moved across the sky, but dawn is still far-off. We all sag in our saddles, exhausted and hungry, sore from riding for hours.

I glance at Jadon again. The fog and quiet have softened the hard angles of his face, the stress that’s been cutting into his features since we met. Right now, he looks his age, younger, less troubled by the chaos around him. He wears tranquil well. I wait a beat, wondering if the questions I’m about to ask will be too personal. Then again, he’s seen my naked back, and I wanted him to see my luscious front. Just thinking about that moment in the cottage blisters my cheeks and shortens my breaths. If that’s not the “we’re at that stage of our almost-immediate friendship,” then I don’t know what would be.

“Ask your question, Kai,” he says as his careful gaze skips across the plains.

I tighten my grip on the reins. How did he know?

My stomach twists into knots as I give him a sidelong glance—no reaction from him. “Why aren’t you nestled beside a pretty wife nursing your pretty baby girl in your perfect cottage with two horses in the stable and fruit trees on your incredibly fertile plot of land?”

His laugh sounds wistful, and he studies me the way I study him. “Are you telling me that I’m not just dreaming all of this while sleeping beside my pretty wife?”

I nudge his calf with my foot. “Sorry. You’re not dreaming.” That simple nudge has made fire spread up my leg.

With color rising in his face, Jadon hooks his foot around mine. He says, “Hmm,” and pulls away his gaze—and his boot.

After a moment of silence, he says, “Well…” His smile tightens as he inhales and slowly exhales. “I want those things, and I thought I’d have at least the fruit trees and two-horses part of your storyline of my life, but…Fate decided for me.”

Something about his voice makes me tremble. I’m so close to falling. So close.

“Fate,” I say, “not Supreme?”

He squints into the distance. “Same thing, right?”

I lift my eyebrows and shrug. Embers now flicker inside my chest, threatening to engulf my heart.

His face flashes from sorrow to indifference, and he whispers, “Same thing.”

We ride on, silent.

“I kind of like this right now.” His attention shifts to my lips. “Not necessarily fighting for my life—”

“But not making spoons, either?” My eyes also shift to his lips. I will not be the same at the end of this ride.

“I guess what I mean is,” he says, chuckling, “I like adventure. And I like adventuring with someone. I want a pretty wife with a grove of fruit trees in the backyard, but I also want a life with someone who’s smart, who desires to travel and see how other people live in other parts of the realm. She’s good with a sword when needed, and good with… other things as needed.”

“You want a lot,” I say, patting my horse’s neck with a shaky hand.

“But I’m willing to compromise,” he says, his left boot brushing against mine. “Except for one thing. Nonnegotiable.”

“And what’s that?”

He bites his lip and smiles. “She must absolutely adore me and think I’m the most handsome creature in all of Vallendor. I want her to sigh every time I walk into a room.”

I want to sigh right now , but I don’t. If I reached for his hand and kissed his fingertips, what would he do? “I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

He nods, but his smile dissolves. “And you?”

“I don’t know what I wanted before…but I have a pretty good idea of what I want now.”

He glances at me, holding my gaze for a moment, before staring ahead again. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I hope once I find out who I am, she wants the same things I want now.”

“I hope so, too.” He sighs and says, “They’re quiet back there.”

We turn to look back at the girls. Philia still holds the reins, but her head bobs as if she’s about to doze off. Behind her, Olivia is absently twisting a lock of Philia’s hair around her finger. She whispers in the redhead’s ear. Philia nods and asks, “Can we stop soon?”

“We will but not here,” Jadon says. “I’m looking for a spot that offers a better vantage point. The grass is too high, and the fog is too heavy.”

“Just hold on a little longer,” I say, scanning the path before us.

Nothing glows yellow or blue.

“It must be hard for you right now,” Jadon says, eyes on the plains. “Not remembering something as simple as the way you want to love someone.”

His insight is an ambush—I didn’t expect it at all, and now, a lump forms deep in my throat. “Yeah.” I suck in my cheeks. And fold all those wonderings into the larger ones, like, Who am I , Why am I here , and How is it that I’m able to push wind from my hands .

Am I a good person or not…?

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Jadon says, his eyes turning into slits, “and I’ve come up with a new theory. I think you’re a gifted mage and warrior. You can wield a sword, a garden hoe, and wind—that’s an incredible feat for anyone except you. I think you hated your village. It was too small, in thought and in size, and so you struck out on your own. Though you’re gifted, you’re still young and you don’t know enough to master your gifts.

“I think one of your spells backfired. Olivia said you fell from the sky. Maybe that was your magic backfiring, and whatever spell you cast sent you soaring to the sky, and you fell back, and your descent looked like a starburst to her. You landed in that forest, and it was a rough landing, and the force may not have broken you into little pieces, as it would’ve anyone else, but it did drive every memory you’ve ever collected into the great nowhere. That means you can’t remember who you are or where you came from. And you can’t remember your magic, although now, slowly, very slowly, it’s all coming back to you.

“I also think… When you finally remember everything, you won’t spend another minute here. This time, you’ll forget Maford, Olivia, and slimy leeks—”

“And you?” I brave a glance at the man riding beside me.

He keeps his eyes on the horizon. “If you’re lucky, even me.”

We ride in silence for a while until I say, “That story needs a happier ending.”

His lips slant, ready to warble into a smile. “I’ll work on it some more.”

Jadon pulls his horse to a stop. He sits up, rigid. “Shit. Do you see that?” He leans forward, squinting into the foggy distance.

I follow his gaze, barely making out what he sees, but I see enough to make my heart pound. “Oh no,” I whisper, clutching the reins tighter to steady my trembling hands.

An abandoned campsite. A large flag flaps in the wind, familiar symbols embroidered into its fabric. But there are no soft orange glows from any campfires. No soldiers sleeping with bundled tunics serving as pillows. Has the army moved on to invade the next town and force people to their knees?

I know this flag—those leopards are unforgettable.

Emperor Wake’s men.

“What now?” Philia whispers behind us.

“We can’t turn back,” I say.

Jadon whispers, “We won’t turn back.”

With dread pooling in our stomachs, Jadon and I exchange a worried glance.

All we can do is pray that we make it to the other side…alive.