Page 139 of This Vicious Dream

Volatile emotions war within me. Shock, relief, fury, joy—all of them merge, until I’m unsurewhatI feel.

My eyes heat. “What are we doing, Calysian?”

He places one finger beneath my chin, using it to tilt my head back. “You know what this is. Even as you refuse to admit it.”

I open my mouth, but I can’t find the words. Calysian just shakes his head. “Stubborn woman.”

His lips are warm and firm on mine, and he pulls away too soon, helping me mount Hope, before turning to swing himself onto Fox’s back. His ward forms around us, glittering silver in the weak sunlight. Neither of us speak as we continue past the regiment. Calysian is tense, his eyes scanning for any sign of duplicity from the witch.

I hold my breath, skin prickling. Still, I don’t speak until several long minutes have passed, and I’m certain we won’t be overheard.

“They’re going to come after us.”

“And yet you have a plan for that too. Don’t you?”

I can’t help but grin. “I left a map near your sleeping mat last night. It shows our route to the grimoire. Kyldare memorized it when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. He’ll give them that route up under torture, and Bridin will tell Vicana where to position her regiments. We just have to make sure we don’t go near that route.”

Calysian matches my grin. “Brilliant woman.”

My throat tightens. He hadn’t known about this part of my plan. For all he knew, we would be in more danger than ever before. And yet he’d gone along with it anyway.

“You don’t think Kyldare’s goddess will save him?”

“He has failed her. She would punish him just as harshly as the witch will.”

I think of the recognition in Calysian’s eyes when Kyldare spoke of the quake. “You know who she is.”

“Yes. She’s my sister.”

I stare at him. “Creas. The goddess of memory?”

He gives me a humorless smile before turning his attention back to the trail. “The ability to steal memories is just one of her powers, butthatpower is the reason she can make Kyldare forget her name. She is also known for her ability to shake the earth.”

“She caused the quake. Was she trying to kill you?”

The trail splits, and Calysian guides Fox left, the stallion’s hooves clopping against the hard-packed ground. This road is wider, scarred with deep ruts that twist and intersect—evidence of years of carts grinding their way through mud and dust. The trees are thinning out, but the scent of damp stone is still heavy in the air.

“No.” Calysian finally says. “She knew she couldn’t kill me from afar, even as weakened as I am now. She was trying to killyou.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. To hurt me perhaps. To slow me down.” His shoulders tense, and he avoids my eyes.

Perhaps I should change the subject. “Which direction are we traveling now?”

His wide shoulders relax and he flashes me a grin. “We’re taking the main road straight to Aghalon. It’s a rather charming coastal city. We’ll rest the horses there. I’m assuming this wasn’t part of the route you created for Kyldare.”

“No. I doubted he would believe we would take a main road.”

His grin widens. “And neither will anyone else.”

“And the grimoire?”

“It’s in a temple outside of the city. We will get to it tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

Calysian’s being surprisingly forthcoming, although there’s little I can do with that information.

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