Page 56 of Of Kings and Thieves

I love you.

Col leaned in and kissed me fiercely. Don’t say it now, my little siren.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he said when he broke off the kiss. “I swear it.”

We settled back down, and I tried to push the foreboding feeling out of my mind. But it lingered, like a shadow creeping up on me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. That one of us wouldn’t make it out alive.

But for now, at least, we had each other. And that was enough to give me a little bit of peace. I let myself drift off to sleep, with Col’s arms wrapped around me and the crackling fire as my lullaby.

The next morning, we prepared to leave early. As we readied the horses, Scarlet and Col were once again huddled, speaking quietly. They stood next to her horse, which Magnus had found unharmed and grazing in a mountain pasture. The horse had wandered off after she had been captured, which was good, since the orcs—never riding horses themselves—probably would have eaten it for dinner. Scarlet’s weapons, however, were gone, and she had cursed her luck many times this morning. I perked up my ears and quietly packed Sprite’s saddlebags.

“What about the others?” Scarlet was saying.

“We don’t have time to wait for anyone else,” Col said.

“Do you think something’s happened to them?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. It’s likely they are too far away to get here in time.”

I didn’t know exactly who they were talking about, but I guessed it was some of Col’s other friends. I hoped it was an army because I had no idea how else we were to stop The Harrow if he used that alicorn horn, or if we could even get close enough to try.

The conversation ended, and when Col came around to see how I was doing, I pretended I hadn’t heard anything.

We left the ruins behind us as the sun touched the snowcapped peaks of the eastern mountains. Soon after, the light spilled into the valley and made everything look golden and shimmering. And then, the sun passed above the clouds and we lost its warmth.

The bridge to the city of Ironset was almost a day’s ride, and we only paused long enough to give the horses rest and water before going on our way. I pulled my cloak around my shoulders and shivered, grateful for the fur lining around my neck and ears.

As we rounded the southern end of the lake, the castle on the distant clifftop came into view. The keep stole all my attention. It was a marvel, a feat of craftsmanship and stonework that I hadn’t even known was possible. The castle had been built into a high cliff, into the mountain itself, with a bridge spanning a watery arm of the lake as the only way in or out.

Below the castle was Ironset, a sprawling walled city cloaked in smoke. A banner flew from the walls, one I knew well. Harrowfell. For a moment, I wanted to turn and ride back to Ravenfell Pass, to brave the icy cliffs and the narrow trail once again, to find a land that wasn’t controlled by such evil.

But then there were orcs.

I didn’t know which enemy was worse, but I had taken on orcs and succeeded. I didn’t know how one fought Harrowfell. But no matter how afraid I was, I wasn’t going to leave Col. And I wasn’t going to forget my need for vengeance.

We arrived at the stone bridge crossing the river at the southern end. The castle was now so far above that it disappeared in the smoke rising from Ironset, and I focused on what was directly ahead of us. The bridge was wide, broad enough for multiple wagons side by side, and sturdy enough to allow an army to cross.

Guards were stationed at either end, and it was the only way across the river, Col had explained, until the fords far to the south, which were also heavily guarded.

Before we got too close, Killian put a spell over our group that made us blend in with our surroundings, so that people would look at us and see weary travelers instead of a Deviant with three soldiers and a half-breed. The cold nausea of magic settled over me again, and I looked at our group. Col and Killian’s cloaks no longer appeared heavy and practical but tattered and worn through with holes. Magnus’s ax looked like a woodcutter’s rather than a monster hunter’s, and all our horses looked more like ancient nags compared to the sleek beasts we were actually riding.

My heart raced and I bit the inside of my lip, steeling myself for what was to come.

As we approached, The Harrow’s soldiers hailed us from a tent at the beginning of the bridge. Col, looking completely at ease, dismounted to speak to them. They must have asked him for some sort of papers because he produced some from inside his jacket. I had no idea what the papers contained, but apparently they were good enough for the soldiers, who waved us through.

The soldiers here were better fed, better armed, and better equipped than any I’d seen thus far, proof of how lucrative the mines of Iron Deep were, if The Harrow put his best army here. But it wasn’t a good sign for Col and his purpose. I didn’t know how we were going to find the alicorn horn, let alone sneak in and steal it from under The Harrow’s nose, and all before the end of the full moon.

I followed Col onto the bridge, with Magnus, Scarlet, and Killian ringed around me. No one looked at us, but before we had reached the middle, a raven soared overhead, cawing. Col looked up, and to my astonishment, the raven circled down to land on Col’s outstretched arm. He whispered something to it, and then it took off with a flurry of wings.

“What was that?” I asked him, startled.

He glanced back at me and smiled, but there was little joy in his eyes. “Plans are falling into place.”

Before I could question him further, I felt the nausea of the Deviant’s spell lifting, as if I had been doused in cold water. It was a relief and a shock at the same time.

Col must have sensed it, too, because his shoulders stiffened. There was a shout behind us, and I twisted in the saddle. The soldiers were yelling, telling us to come back.

With a sense of dread forming in my belly, I looked to Col, who looked as he always did—road-weary, serious, commanding, dangerous. His heavy cloak and sword at his back made him look anything but innocent. We were all changing—Magnus looking every bit of the colossus that he was, Killian’s Deviant mask appearing for all to see, and Scarlet’s menacing scowl and scarred arms of a warrior.

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