Page 33 of Truth's Blade

“We should have waited,” Jacinta agreed. “I forgot to look back, because it was all I could do to keep up myself.”

“This is my fault, no one else’s.” Theo pushed himself to his feet. “I knew she didn’t have the fitness level, but I didn’t keep an eye on her. I’ll go back to find her.”

“We might end up staying the night here, then,” Gallain finally spoke up. “It’s already late in the day.”

“We can’t go on without her. We could walk straight into a magical trap. And we know we’re dealing with someone who can do that.” Theo didn’t like the thought of her being on her own, being left behind, either. This was really on him. He felt strangely removed from the decision to not watch her more closely.

He’d been so focused on reaching Warven, he hadn’t taken care of one of his most important assets.

Even that thought made him wince. Shewasan asset, but she was also a person who had intrinsic value.

And he had not taken the care with her that he should have.

“Your horse needs to rest,” Caro said.

“I know. I’ll walk.” They had two hours before the sun set, and that should be enough time to reach her and get back.

Unless she was far further behind than he thought.

He jogged down the hill, pleased to be off his horse for a bit, stretching his legs.

He loved to run, and he and the Commander often ran together, especially when they were stationed at Fernwell, and horses were less necessary than when they were at Ta-lin.

Of the two centers of power, one in Kassia, one in Cervantes, he loved Ta-lin more, the open plains and wooded valleys called to him, but Fernwell held its charms, too. The shouts from the merchant ships in the harbor, the smell of the sea and the strange and delicious scents from the marketplace made it an interesting place to be.

He had trained with his uncle, Rafe, since he was twelve. It was the earliest his mother, Rafe’s sister, would allow him to. The Chosen camps had only been destroyed a few years earlier, and his parents had spent his childhood in fear of him being taken—until the Commander and his uncle, and their friends, had broken free and turned the tables.

He was self-aware enough to realize his focus on being strong and deadly, the best Cervantes warrior he could be, was rooted in that childhood fear, that worry of being taken.

And that focus had helped him through the ranks.

He was the youngest lieutenant in the military, and there were a few grumbles that his uncle’s deep friendship with the Commander had given him a leg up, but those grumbles quietened when he challenged the mutterers to a training bout.

Perhaps some of the hard training he put himself through was in part due to the worry that they were right. Luc Franck was someone he had dinner with regularly. There was a special friendship between himself and Queen Ava, and in private he dropped her title altogether when talking to her, at her own insistence.

While he knew Ricardo, Jonquil, and Genevieve, the three students who’d been taken, he was like an older cousin to Viviane, and he had to admit the burning drive to go faster, to ride harder, was down to his terror at what might be happening to her.

He had let that worry blind him to Melodie’s limitations. She had done well the day before, but only someone who rode regularly could keep up with the advanced pace he’d set.

He had brought her along because he didn’t think he could be successful without her, so he was truly a fool to lose her.

When he reached the tree line he slowed, checking to make sure he was on the right path, and then wondered if Melodie had fallen so far behind she had taken a wrong turn.

If they’d kept to the road, that wouldn’t have been a worry, but as soon as they went off on Gallain’s shortcut, he should have made sure they kept together.

He cursed himself again for his negligence and began calling her name as he stepped into the dark cool beneath the canopy.

The sun was setting behind the hill, and it was already hard to see the way.

He listened for a response to his call, and was met with silence.

CHAPTER 15

Melodie had been left behind.And it was partly her own fault.

It had felt like she was in some kind of muddled nightmare as they’d approached the forest, and then the wind had changed, and she got a second wind, or at least, became more aware of her surroundings.

When she reached the tree line that had swallowed up the rest of the team earlier, she slowed the horse to a walk and let the cool green gloom of the forest soothe the headache she suddenly realized she’d had for hours as she took stock.

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