The Source (Creasan #1)

Before even the sun rose the next morning, Thea had awoken. Since Lief died, she hadn’t slept very well, but last night had been worse than usual. It had nothing to do with the lumpy ground beneath her and everything to do with the prince’s words swirling around her head. It infuriated her that he fancied himself an expert on her when he hardly knew her; it infuriated her more that he could have a point. She hadn’t missed the way they’d stopped talking when she’d returned to the fire, how laughter and smiles had died in her presence.

Thea had felt lonely several times since Lief. More often than not. But last night had felt different. She wasn’t just lonely. She’d been…isolated.

It was the blasted prince’s fault.

She stalked away from their little camp, taking care not to wake anyone else. There was only one release for this pent up anger and she had to get it out now. She wouldn’t muck up their mission because she was feeling ticked off.

She’d brought extra cloth for this exact instance. She wrapped her knuckles with it, making sure it was a decent cushion. When she was far enough away from the camp that she wouldn’t be heard, she slammed her fist into a tree. There was a satisfying crunch from the bark as pieces of wood splintered and shot off. Her arm vibrated with the impact, but her knuckles felt alright. She punched again.

She kept going until sweat dripped down her face and her heart sounded in her ears. With each hit, she felt some of her anxiety melt away. All other concerns blended into the background as her gaze zeroed in on the spot in front of her. She heard Lief’s voice in her head. Again. She punched. Again.

Fendrel wasn’t entirely sure what woke him up, although he was willing to bet it was the new strain in his back from sleeping on the awful, uneven ground. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his neck.

Snow had begun to fall, one or two inches already stacking on the ground.

Everyone else was still asleep, including Brom. Brom had his eyes closed but he was sitting straight up. He must’ve been the last one to keep watch. Brilliant job he’d done.

Peronell had his arm slung around Carac, and Merek looked the same with Isolde. Thea was nowhere to be found.

The sound of a grunt filtered through the trees and Fendrel’s brows furrowed as he listened. There it was again. He debated waking up Brom to go investigate with him, but he decided against it. If it was a danger worth troubling the others, he’d be entirely certain first. No need to give them another reason to dislike him.

Fendrel grabbed his sword and plunged into the trees.

Just a little ways away he discovered the source of it. He hid behind a tree as he watched Thea spar with a nearly bald trunk. Her braid—which had been carefully curled into a bun—had fallen straight down her back. Sweat poured off her as she struck the tree again. Her sword lay on the ground at her feet along with her crossbow and pack, and her coat had been discarded on top of them. Fendrel could see the pure power in her figure, the taut muscles in her arms, the wound up spring in her legs. She was truly a warrior, in mind and body.

Remorse filled Fendrel as he watched her. Of course, he’d assumed she’d lost someone close to her, but hearing the name last night—Lief—made it real. He shouldn’t have sunk low enough to try to hurt her when she was clearly still grieving.

Fendrel stepped around the tree and spoke softly. “Thea.”

She didn’t hear him as she threw another fist into the tree.

He tried again. “Thea!”

Still nothing except a crack from her hit.

He stepped closer, repeating her name. He was nearly upon her now as he shouted her name. “Thea!”

She whipped around, fist sailing straight for his face.

Thea registered wide eyes in front of her before the assailant ducked under her arm and rammed his shoulder into her stomach. The air burst out of her and she crashed into the tree behind her. A forearm pressed against her throat as blue eyes came into focus.

Fendrel released her quickly and took a step back. “I apologize, that was just instinct—“

Thea laughed. Of course. She hadn’t heard his approach but if anyone or anything was going to find her… “Morning, Highness.” She threw another a fist.

He instantly deflected it, holding up his arms to show no harm. “I just wanted to talk.”

“So talk.” She advanced on him, kicking out.

He tossed his sword to the side, making it a fair fight. Thea appreciated that, though she wasn’t sure she’d have done the same. Fendrel caught her leg but not tightly enough and she kicked him in the side. He grunted. “Dear Aestus, must everything be a fight with you?!”

She shrugged. “It’s more fun this way.” She crossed her arms as she stared at him. “But if you don’t fight back, it just starts to become embarrassing.”

“I don’t want to fight.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I wanted to apologize.”

She snorted. “For what?”

“For what I said to you last night. For the rough life you’ve endured. For my family’s part in it.” He set his shoulders. “I am sorry.”

Thea gazed into his earnest blue eyes. He was sorry. She laughed. “Not good enough, Highness.”

He frowned. “Well, I’m not going to grovel—“

“Look, we both know your apology is more for yourself than for me.”

Fendrel’s jaw dropped. “That is not—“

“But your empty words are meaningless to me. So you can spar with me or you can leave. Either way, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t insult me.”

“I meant no offense—“ Fendrel cut himself off, closing his eyes as he centered himself. In control. Always in control. “If my apology is not enough, then what is?”

“Are you dense?” Where had he been this entire time? “The only thing that will be enough is your brother’s head removed from his body. Nothing less.”

He gazed up at her from beneath his brows. “What do you want from me?”

Thea thought about that for a moment. Short of him beheading his brother, she didn’t think there was anything he could do to make her hate him less. But… “At the moment,” she said, approaching him slowly, “I’d like to meet Fendrel Lance.”

He tracked her movements, brows furrowed.

She wondered how far she could push him. “The real Fendrel. The one hidden behind your rules of decorum and regality. The one I know must be itching to get out and stretch his legs.” She stopped within inches of him.

He gazed down at her with narrowed eyes, making the blue in them stand out starkly against the thick black of his lashes. “I don’t—“

She slapped him across the face.

His head whipped to the side and didn’t turn back for a long moment, his teeth grinding together. “I am not going to fight you.” His voice lower than it had been before, sounding almost threatening. It sent a shiver of excitement through her.

“Living in that palace, trapped behind the shadow of your brother,” she said, matching his tone. “There must be so much anger in you. So much resentment.”

He turned back to her. “No.”

She hit him again, snapping his head in the other direction. “The things you must’ve seen. Heard. What that must’ve done to the mind of a man as delicate as you.”

He pursed his lips as he again brought his eyes back to hers. Those tranquil eyes Thea had admired so much were now full of clouds. She grinned slightly. “Hit me,” she whispered.

“No.”

“After everything I’ve done to you? Said to you? Is it not your right to take some revenge? Retrieve some of the manhood I’ve taken from you.”

Fendrel locked his eyes with hers and they stood there, balanced precariously on the edge of something neither of them could name, their breaths mingling together. Thea felt like the prince was close to snapping and the tips of her fingers tingled with anticipation.

Then a smile broke across his face. “It bothers you, doesn’t it? That you cannot solve me with violence.”

Thea jerked back as if he had hit her.

Fendrel had had every intention of making peace with her. Truly he had. But how much of this was he meant to take before he struck back?

Fendrel knew she’d best him in any physical fight. But words…words seemed to affect her more than any blade ever could. Now it was his turn to advance. “Grew up around violence. Taught how to master it. It is where you are the most comfortable. No doubt you’ve a sob story to go with it.”

She glared at him. “You have no idea—“

“Lief died violently.”

Again, Thea flinched, so hard Fendrel feared she’d tumble to the ground.

It had been a guess, but clearly it was correct. “But there must be more to it than that.” He put a finger to his chin. “Parents beat you? No, not both,” he said as he watched her face. “Just one. Mother? No, father.”

“Stop.”

“So you were hurt by your father then watched this Lief person get hurt. Not just hurt. Die. And you channel all that rage into your fists. Because making others feel pain lessens yours.”

“I said, stop.” Her fist made a beeline for his face.

Fendrel caught it in his own, wrapping his fingers around her clenched hand. He tugged her closer to him so his next words were little more than a hiss of air. “You think you know me so well. Think you can manipulate me. But I reckon I know you just as well.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“Then neither do you.”

They remained locked like that, almost as if they’d paused mid-dance. Her hand in his, him leaning over her, faces very close. Both of them seethed, neither one wanting to break eye contact first.

When Isolde woke up, she was freezing. She snuggled closer to the pile of warmth behind her.

But then the pile breathed and her eyes sprung open.

She glanced down and saw a hand pressed against her stomach. The hand was attached to an arm that was looped around her body. And the arm was attached to Merek. He shivered and drew her even closer to him.

Isolde allowed herself just one moment to enjoy his heat. It seeped into her back, combatting the chill of the snow surrounding them. Her fiancé could hardly blame her for this. She’d been asleep, it was cold. Innocent and necessary.

Merek shifted closer, pressing his knees flush against hers, his lips brushing against her neck as he huffed.

Her heart was thudding in her chest. Now this was no longer feeling innocent. Very slowly, doing her best not to wake him, she slithered out of his embrace. His arm slid off her unwillingly but he let her go.

Isolde stumbled in the snow, glancing around herself. A good foot of snow must’ve fallen while they’d slept. She noticed Thea and Fendrel were gone. Perhaps not all of them had been to sleep through the cold.

She pulled her coat tighter, rubbing her arms rapidly. While she stood there, something black among the snow caught her attention. She jumped away from it instantly, swallowing a scream. A spider.

Isolde glanced at Merek, and her lips turned up. Using wood from the dead fire, she ushered the spider in his direction. She whispered to it brightly, “Come on. There you go. This way, you disgusting little turd. This way.”

It easily crawled toward Merek, settling on his hand.

She clasped her hands over her mouth to trap her giggle.

At that moment, Merek reached up to rub his nose, sniffling as he did. The spider crawled onto his face, one of its legs curling inside his nostril.

Isolde stared with wide eyes, feeling her skin crawl just watching.

Merek’s nose twitched and he swiped it again but missed the spider. His brows furrowed and he blinked awake. Before he registered anything else, his eyes went crosseyed as he stared at the bug on his face. Then the most brilliant thing Isolde could have ever predicted happened.

Merek let loose the highest, sharpest, and loudest shriek ever made in the history of humankind as he leapt to his feet.

Carac, Peronell, and Brom jerked awake, searching the area for signs of danger. “What is it?” Brom asked quickly, grabbing his sword.

Merek swatted at his face, throwing the spider back down to the white snow where it scurried away. He stared at it, breathing hard. Like he’d just survived the hardest battle of his life.

Isolde couldn’t take it any longer. A laugh burst out of her, one so big that she had to squeeze her eyes shut as it wracked her frame.

Merek stared at her. “You thought that was funny?”

His anger just made her laugh harder. “That scream was just…” She could hardly even wheeze out the words.

Carac grinned. “It was just a spider?”

Isolde nodded, pointing at Merek. “He was so scared!”

“I was not.”

“You were!” She bent over as her stomach began to ache. She affected a mockingly low voice. “‘We need all the protein we can get out here.’”

Peronell and Carac were laughing now too, Brom crooking a smile.

Merek stared at Isolde and a smile stretched across his face, overcoming his anger. “That was so…mean.”

Isolde wiped a tear from her eye. “But so wonderful. That’s going to be etched in my memory forever.”

Merek charged her. “What if I did that to you, eh?” He grabbed her by the waist and spun her.

She slapped his arm. “I’d kill you. Let me go!”

Carac wrapped his arms around Peronell as he watched them. “Just so you know,” Peronell told Carac, “I’d kill you too. Don’t be getting any ideas.”

Carac made a face at him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Merek set Isolde back down. “Devious wench.”

She wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, her face aching from how wide she was smiling. The awkwardness of a few minutes ago completely forgotten. “Deserved.”

“Well done.” Peronell applauded and Carac joined in.

Isolde curtsied. “Thank you, thank you. I accept tips in gold crowns.”

“Wait, shh,” Merek said, holding up a finger.

Isolde shoved his hand away. “Don’t be a bad sport—“

“Izzy,” he hissed, eyes searching the trees. “Do you guys hear that?”

They fell silent as they listened. The sound of footsteps. Booming footsteps. Heavier, larger than any man’s. Heading straight for them. Isolde spotted shimmering white hair, like that of an albino ape, and her blood went cold. “Where are Thea and the prince?”

A low rumbling rolled through the forest and reached Thea’s ears. It was quickly followed by the mad dash of footsteps and the sound of Isolde’s frantic, “Thea!”

Fendrel released her fist, and almost simultaneously, they took up their swords, braced for attack. Thea used her other hand to also train her crossbow at the impending danger.

Isolde, Merek, Peronell, and Carac exploded out of the trees.

“What is it?” Thea demanded, not taking her eyes from the trees where the rumbling was still coming from.

“Look around you,” Merek said, standing beside Thea, brandishing his sword.

Snow. Too much snow. Falling too fast. It was nearly to their knees. Thea nodded. “Mirka.”

“Shit,” Brom murmured as he stood beside Fendrel.

Carac looked around wildly. “What on earth is a mirka?”

“Eyes closed,” Thea commanded.

“What?” Carac nearly screeched. “No, why would we—

Peronell grabbed him roughly by the arm, shaking him anxiously. “Their eyes are poison. If you see it, it will burn you. Close your eyes.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Carac squeezed his eyes shut. The whole line of them stood in the middle of the forest, ears straining to make out how close the mirka was.

“How do we fight something we can’t see?” Fendrel asked in a whisper.

“Someone is going to have to look,” Isolde said.

“I will,” Brome volunteered.

“No,” Fendrel responded instantly.

“Let him,” Thea said. “It is his job to protect you. Let him do it. I will also look.”

“Then so will I,” said Fendrel.

Thea gritted her teeth. “Are you an id—“

“We don’t have time, Thea,” Isolde snapped.

“What are the rest of us to do?” Carac asked.

“Up the trees,” Merek said.

“Fine. On the count of three.” Thea took a deep breath, like Lief had taught her.

The heavy footsteps were getting closer.

“One.”

In, out.

“Two.”

It was nearly upon them.

“Three!”

Their eyes popped open at the same. Peronell, Carac, Isolde, and Merek shot up the trees, climbing faster than they’d ever had to in their lives. Thea, Fendrel, and Brom trained their eyes on the ground.

The mirka broke through the tree line and let loose a bloodcurdling roar. It was so forceful that it whipped their hair back. “Don’t look at its eyes,” Thea warned.

“How do we kill it?” Fendrel asked.

Thea clutched her sword tighter. Brom was already edging closer to it, eyes down, staring at its feet.

“Thea!” Fendrel felt his blood rushing in his ears. “How do we—“

“I don’t know!”

His eyes widened. “You don’t—“

The mirka roared again, cutting off their conversation. Though Thea had only seen images of the creature in drawings, she never thought she’d see a mirka in her lifetime. They were nearly extinct creatures, preferring to hide out in the highest mountains where they were out of danger from others. They had long white hair—so white it was nearly translucent—with feet as large as a tree trunk’s. They weren’t as tall as ogres, though they were still enormous. While ogres could get up to fifty feet tall, mirkas stretched a strong twenty feet. And while no one had ever seen the eyes of a mirka and lived to talk about it, it is said they are bright white eyes without an iris or pupil. Almost like the eyes of an animal reflecting in the moonlight.

Children are always warned against looking directly into the sun because it may render one blind. It is believed mirkas’ eyes function in the same fashion, but even more dangerous, as if one were staring directly into a sun that sat five feet away from them. The burning started in the eyes, then spread until one’s entire body was consumed by flames.

Brom speared his sword into the mirka’s stomach. It plunged deep and blood poured out. But the mirka didn’t even flinch, lurching toward Thea and Fendrel. Thea ran to the right, dodging its foot at the last second. She stuck her blade straight down through its foot, pinning him into the ground.

Fendrel steeled himself and then began to scale the enormous creature. Thea saw him out of the corner of her eye. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“The heart!” was the only answer he gave as he climbed higher.

In the trees, Isolde stood at the top, looking out hurriedly over the expanse of woods. There were no other mirkas heading for them, which was a good sign. This one must’ve gone rogue. Just a little ways away, she spotted the tops of homes and knew exactly where they were.

She met Merek’s eyes from where he stood at the top of another tree. She pointed. “Gentis.”

He nodded and immediately headed back to the ground.

Carac looked at Peronell. Even from a distance, it was clear that he was trembling in fear. He really wasn’t built for this sort of thing. Isolde had been surprised Thea had let him come at all. Carac said, “If we go back down…”

“We don’t really have any other choice.” Peronell gazed at him with reassuring eyes. “We will be fine.”

Isolde said, “It’s not too far away. If we can just get to Gentis, the mirka won’t follow. All right?”

Carac looked back to Peronell and nodded. “All right.”

Back down below, Brom followed Thea’s lead and stabbed the mirka’s other foot into the ground. It roared, and Thea and Brom covered their ears, bending over and squeezing their eyes shut as it rattled their ear drums.

Fendrel pressed his face against the creature’s arm as he did his best not to fall off. A grimace twisted his face and his knuckles turned white as he clenched harder to the mirka’s hair.

The mirka jerked its foot up out of the ground, then it did the same to the other, both swords still impaling them.

Merek landed on the ground near Thea. He trained his eyes on his feet. “Gentis is close by, just to the east of here.”

Thea nodded. “Okay. Brom!”

Brom glanced up at her as he gripped his sword and tried to yank it free.

“Gentis, that way.” She pointed in the direction Merek had indicated.

“Your Highness!” he called up to Fendrel.

But Fendrel was too high to hear him, engaged in a battle all his own. As he climbed, he felt a bigger temptation to look up, to meet the eyes of his opponent. To see the cause of such of fear. Still, he kept his gaze focused straight ahead. Just a few more inches and he was hanging just above the creature’s heart. Dangling from one arm, he unsheathed his sword from its scabbard on his back and ran it through the beast.

The mirka gave a pain-filled scream and stumbled back.

Fendrel hung on for dear life as wind rush at him, whipping his clothes and hair around him. He clutched both hands around the hilt and released the mirka’s hair, dragging the bladed down its torso.

Fendrel landed on the ground with a harsh grunt, his sword clanging down beside him.

The mirka fell back against a tree. It gave a loud groan before it gave out under the monster’s weight, and together they crashed to the ground, blood flooding out of the mirka.

Fendrel stumbled up to his feet, breathing heavily. Blood painted his face and chest a bright red. He took up his sword and slid it back into its sheath. He turned to meet the eyes of the others.

“All right,” Merek said after a beat. “That was mildly impressive.”

“Not really.” Thea pointed where the mirka was struggling onto all fours. “Eyes down!” she yelled a second before it whipped its eyes up and bellowed.

But Carac was too slow, and he screamed in agony, clutching at his eyes and keeling over.

Peronell ran to him blindly. “Carac? Are you all right?”

“It hurts!” he cried.

“Run!” Merek ordered. “Now!”

Isolde felt him grab her hand and allowed him to lead her in the dash to the east. She wasn’t sure how he knew where to go, but she trusted his sense of direction more than she trusted her own.

Thea took off after them, listening to Merek’s footsteps. Brom shoved Fendrel forward, and then they were running too.

Carac was rooted to the spot, wailing as tears poured uncontrollably from his eyes. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!”

“I know, love, I know, but we have to go right now.” Peronell tugged at his hand. “We’ll get you help as soon as we’re there.”

Carac sobbed but stumbled after Peronell, their boots squelching in the snow.

Although Fendrel hadn’t killed it, he’d managed to slow down the mirka enough for them remain just ahead of its grasp as they sprinted through the forest blindly.

Thea could hear Carac’s cries and felt her heart thump guiltily. They needed to get to Gentis immediately, before the burning had a chance to spread. They bumped into trunks, branches scratched their faces, they even stumbled into each other as they ran.

Eventually, the sounds of heavy footfalls and movement of a town drifted toward them from up ahead, and Thea pushed herself to pump her legs faster. “Help!” she screamed. “Mirka!”

The others followed her lead and started calling for help as well.

Those lumbering footsteps came even closer, and Thea heard the unmistakable battle cry of the ogres. She slammed into something hard and fell on her back, the air forced out of her. Without even opening her eyes, she knew it was the leg of an ogre.

Hands slipped beneath her armpits and pulled her to her feet, dragging her further in. Then she was yanked around a corner and pressed against it by someone else’s body. They braced themselves.

The earth quaked beneath them. The ogres assembled in a line on the border of their district, their ugly faces set in determination as the mirka staggered forward. They towered over the mirka. It gazed up at them like a child being berated by its parents. It let out its roar and charged forward, but the ogre standing in the middle whipped out its sword. In a flash, it sliced through the air, gliding straight through the mirka’s neck.

It stilled as its head rolled across the ground to the ogres’ feet. Its body crumpled in on itself, collapsing backward, making the ground tremble once more.

Thea didn’t dare to open her eyes until she was sure it was dead. Carac’s weeping became louder and she knew they were running out of time. With one last moment to prepare herself, she cracked open her eyes.

Fendrel’s was the body that was pressed against her. His eyes were still clamped shut, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. In the next second, his eyes hesitantly opened and immediately fell to hers. They were so close they were sharing oxygen.

Thea knew she ought to thank him for helping her, but she just couldn’t find it within her to say the words.

Carac cried out again, and she shoved Fendrel away. Thea darted into the street where the ogres stood, still facing the dead mirka. “Please,” she begged, “my friend is injured. Please, you have to help him!”

An ogre that was larger than the others stepped forward and knelt down to hear them better.

She repeated, “He needs help.” Thea pointed to where Carac was clutching at his face.

The ogre nodded in understanding. He rose again and yelled in a language Thea didn’t know to the other ogres. They all jumped to action, one ogre scooping Carac into its hand and taking off down the street.

Peronell tried to run after it but it was too fast. He spun around to meet Thea’s eyes. “I need to be with him.”

She bit her lip as she looked around. The lot of them looked like miniature figurines in this massive city. Buildings soared higher in the sky than even the trees and ogres walking by nearly stepped on them. Thea had no idea where Carac had been taken; she couldn’t even see the ogre who’d dashed away with him.

She looked to that head ogre who was still watching them and pointed to Peronell. “Can you take him too?”

The ogre frowned and crouched to their level again.

“He wants to stay with him,” she tried to explain.

The ogre debated it for a moment, its yellow eyes studying them all carefully. Finally, it turned and snapped to the ogre nearest it. The sound was like a bolt of thunder right beside Thea’s ears and she cringed. That other ogre knelt down and offered its hand to Peronell. He didn’t even hesitate before climbing in. The ogre took off in the same direction as Carac.

The head ogre stared at each member of the remaining group in turn before waving them to follow it. The group exchanged an uncertain look before Thea lead the way after the ogre.

It took them to a rather plain building. There were no decorations carved into the walls or tapestries hanging from the ceilings. Just a bland gray stone that was only interrupted by empty sconces. The ogre led them to what Thea guessed to be his study, though there was no desk in place. It was a nearly barren room except for the enormous sofa pushed against the far wall straight ahead where a window overlooked the rest of Gentis District. The ogre sat on it and then picked up the group and dropped them onto the chair across from him. Thea was proud of them for not screaming.

The ogre stared at them with narrowed eyes, reclining easily against the cushions behind him.

Once the silence became too heavy for Thea, she stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Good morning. My name is Thea Wyvern. These are my friends Isolde Taren, Merek Iskender, Brom…” She realized she didn’t know the lad’s surname.

“Izgis,” he offered with a bow of his head. Then he motioned to the prince. “This is—“

“I know who you are, prince.”

Thea’s brows rose at his perfect English. She’d always heard ogres speak in a broken fashion that made them sound…well, stupid. But the creature in front of her had yellow eyes that shimmered with intelligence.

Fendrel’s face gave nothing away. “How do you know me?”

“Gentis has had an alliance with the royals for some years now. I know you and your brother well.” He gave a small grin. “I am Varug Blarekson.”

“Are you in charge here?” Thea asked.

Varug eyed the prince. “If it is the king asking, no.”

“It’s not the king asking,” Fendrel assured.

He smirked. “Then yes. I am in charge.”

Isolde stepped forward. “Is Carac going to be okay?”

“That is the boy who looked into the eyes of a mirka?”

They nodded.

Varug sighed deeply. “I cannot say for sure either way. My healers will do their very best to save him, but mirkas are deadly creatures. You are lucky your friend has lasted this long. Must be the snowfall that slowed the burn.”

“Could we see him?” Merek wondered.

“Of course. I will instruct someone to take you there as soon as we’ve finished here.”

Thea cocked her head to the side. “What is it that you want from us?”

“Not all of you. Just him.” He brought his peculiar gaze to Fendrel.

Fendrel lifted his chin in the air. “How can I help you?”

Varug puffed a laugh through his nose. “You know the king has sent out a squadron looking for you. Even sent word to all the cities in Creasan that you had run off. I was given specific instructions by The Guard that, should I see you, I was to report you to the crown immediately.”

Fendrel nodded as if he wasn’t surprised.

“I wonder…are you dangerous, Your Highness?”

“I suppose it depends who you ask.”

Varug smiled. “Indeed. Then perhaps I should instead ask if your presence in my home is going to put my people in danger.”

“As long as my friends and I remain safe, so will you,” Fendrel replied.

Thea sent him a sharp look. Now was not the time to get fresh.

“I am already trying to save your friend’s life. Why would you think—“

“Do you know, I’ve always wondered how the Lance-Ogre Agreement was able to be maintained.” There was something in Fendrel’s eyes that Thea had only seen once, just a little earlier in the woods when she was trying to push him. That anger, resentment…hatred. “A food shortage in Gentis seemed like a problem that could only be solved in Gentis. Yet somehow my brother had managed to settle it and please both sides. I had chalked it up to his great intellect, but I now know better. So I say again, leave my friends and I alone and no harm will come to you.”

“Highness,” Thea hissed, “that’s enough.”

“I don’t think so, Thea,” Fendrel said, not taking his eyes from Varug. “Or have you forgotten an ogre’s main source of food?”

Just then, they all understood. But it was Merek who gave voice to it. “Human flesh.”

Varug gazed at Fendrel with bored eyes. “There was no harm in our agreement. Favian sent me the bodies of executed traitors and my people left your cities alone. It created peace.”

Thea felt her blood heating as she realized what they were saying. They needed Varug’s help, she knew that, but Thea tended to struggle when her rage sparked. “Except they weren’t executed traitors you were taking. They were innocent people off the streets of Vuterra Village.”

Varug shrugged. “I do not ask where my food comes from. I simply thank Aestus that it did.”

Thea clenched her fists. “You—“

Fendrel wrapped his hand around her wrist, stopping her. “I understand. We do not judge you for that. We simply hope to remain safe while under your roof.”

For a split second, Thea felt like throwing the prince’s hand off her and charging the smug creature in front of her. How dare he allow innocent people to die to satisfy his hunger, how dare he willingly turn a blind eye to the horror of it. But then she thought of poor Carac, writhing in agony as he was seared from the inside, and bit her tongue. She could remain silent for his safety. She could do that.

Varug glanced at Thea but spoke to Fendrel. “I don’t think your little pet agrees with you.”

There was a strong silence that followed. Fendrel’s eyes drifted closed in defeat while Isolde’s eyes widened in anticipation. “Shit,” Merek muttered.

Bollocks, she thought, I can’t do it. Thea jerked out of Fendrel’s grip and stalked to the edge of the chair, drawing her crossbow in front of her and taking aim at Varug’s head. “I am no one’s pet,” she spat. “Say one more thing like that and I will shoot this arrow straight through your eye and then pop it out and eat it for dinner.”

Varug smiled widely, showing off his brown teeth. “There she is! Took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

Thea’s aim didn’t waver. “What are you talking about?”

“I assume you are the Thea Wyvern that Lief told me about? Said you were a real firecracker, not one to be messed around with. Said it was a real treat to watch, too.”

Thea’s crossbow nearly dropped out of her hand. “You knew Lief?”

“Of course. Had a strong alliance going, him and I. I was going to help him take down the king.” Varug leaned forward and bowed his head. “Of course, after he was killed…”

Thea felt like the world was spinning. Her knees were close to buckling under her. “You spoke of me?”

He offered a soft, fatherly smile. “Couldn’t shut him about it, actually. You were only a child then, but I’d never seen someone as proud of an eight-year-old as he was. Said you could shoot a bullseye from one hundred yards. Any truth to that?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She stared straight ahead. If she met Varug’s gaze, if she looked at one of her friends, if someone so much as touched her, she’d break down in sobs. And Thea Wyvern did not cry.

Varug looked to Merek, Isolde, Brom, and Fendrel before coming back to Thea. “You have nothing to fear from me or my people. You are safe while you are here. This I swear.”

When it became clear Thea wasn’t going to answer, Fendrel said, “Thank you.”

Varug leaned back again. “And where are the lot of you headed if not to do the king’s dirty work?”

“The Forbidden Mountain,” Merek answered.

The ogre snorted. “You do know it was named that for a reason?”

“We are aware,” said Isolde.

“And what is it that you’re seeking on The Forbidden Mountain?”

Fendrel shook his head. “That isn’t really—“

“Aestus,” Thea cut in.

Varug blinked. “Is that a joke?”

She said nothing.

The ogre looked at all of them. “You can’t seriously think you’re going to find him up there.”

“We’ve got to try,” Isolde responded.

“To what end?”

“To overthrow my brother.” Fendrel’s back stayed straight and his gaze unflinching.

“But your bother is a Lance,” Varug said. “Unless my memory is fuzzy, the world will only end in a hot white burn if there is not a Lance on the throne. What makes you think Aestus would even care?”

Merek said, “We are hoping he will see the state of—“

“I’d like to see Carac,” Thea said, still staring into nothingness.

Varug blinked several times. “Of course. I will show you to—“

“I’d like to walk it alone, thanks. If you could just point us in the right direction?”

Favian laid on his back in bed, eyes squeezed shut in pain. He took a long drag from his pipe, holding it in so long he nearly turned red. But not even that was helping anymore.

He’d been asked to attend a meeting in the throne room, but he couldn’t seem to rise from bed. He’d sent The Guard after Fendrel, spread word of his escape as far as he could. Favian felt as if there was nothing more to be done.

He hadn’t seen his wife since the night before and he was glad. If he’d known another child was all it would take to make her stay away, he’d have laid with her a long time ago.

Some people hated the loneliness that came with being king. He knew his father had. But Favian preferred it. If he was alone, that meant there was no problem to be solved, no chaos that needed order. It meant he could simply breathe for a moment. He could be at peace.

“You will never be at peace.”

Favian jerked up at the voice in his room. It sounded as if it had come from the foot of the bed, but no one was there. Favian frowned as his head gave a painful throb.

“After what you’ve done, how could you?”

Favian whipped his head to the door, but again, no one was there. He’d recognized the voice. Had known the man who’d spoken those words.

The king laid back again, closing his eyes. It was the demons of his guilty conscience. If he ignored it hard enough, it would stop. It always had.

“You shall desire absolution but will never have it.”

Favian gritted his teeth. He did not need absolution from anyone. He knew that. Yet the voice was haunting, eerie. Speaking directly in his ear.

“I wonder, is it duty that makes you hurt people or do you simply enjoy watching them suffer?”

Favian turned his face into his pillows. He would not listen. He was king. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t wish to.

“But that is the thing about suffering.”

Favian cringed, his head about to burst.

“It is contagious.”

Thea walked ahead of the others. Her shoulders were strong, her head high, but her feet shuffled along the road. Isolde watched her with sad eyes. She had been friends with Thea since she’d joined The Source about six years ago but had often felt she didn’t really know her.

When Isolde’s mother was murdered in the streets of Vuterra, Thea had been there for her. She’d helped her through the pain and the mourning. Thea had really been the only person who could have helped her because she knew the pain of losing loved ones. But Isolde had often been told that Thea was never the same after Lief’s death. It was as if Thea always had a barrier up and no matter what she did Isolde would never be able to break through.

“It’s a sad business this,” Merek said softly. “It’s like whenever she’s on the verge of coming to grips with Lief, something happens that yanks her miles back.”

Fendrel locked his eyes to her form. “Who was Lief anyway? I mean besides the leader of The Source before Thea.”

Isolde and Merek shared a glance and she shook her head. That was Thea’s story to tell, if she ever chose to.

“Do you know what, prince,” Merek said, deftly steering the conversation away from dangerous territory, “I find it very difficult to believe that your brother was murdering people and sending them as food to the ogres without you having a clue. Were you not the king’s most trusted confidante?”

“The king trusts no one,” Fendrel said, mouth curling like the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. “Perhaps his son, but no one else. Especially not me.”

“What do you mean, ‘especially’?” Isolde asked.

“As king, one always has to be wary of those scheming to steal one’s crown. From about the time I turned sixteen, he got it into his head that I was one of those people. While he does share things with me, he doesn’t tell me everything.”

Merek turned to the Guard. “And what about you? You were the one actually killing us. Surely you must’ve—“

“I knew,” Brom interrupted.

The entire group, including Fendrel, stopped walking to stare at Brom. It was interesting, Isolde thought, that by simply going without their visors, Guards could look like real people instead of those fearsome puppets she’d come to know. Although Brom was anything but kind-looking. There was no emotion as he gazed back at them. “I was a soldier,” he said. “I followed my orders.”

Merek’s eyes shone with rage and he stalked toward him. “How could you willingly—“

With a simple extension of his arm, Brom shoved Merek back hard enough that he stumbled. “I may not have lived in that village,” Brom said, “but it was a matter of survival for me, too. For all of The Guard. We serve the king out of fear, out of necessity.”

Merek shook his head. “What—“

“The king knows where my wife and children live.” Brom’s brown eyes stared back dully. For the first time since they’d set out on this journey, Isolde noticed the blankness in Brom’s face. There was no emotion of any kind. He almost looked…dead. “He has made it very clear that without my unflinching loyalty, their lives would be in jeopardy. I do what I must to keep them safe.”

Merek tried once more. “But murder—“

“You lot would like to kill the king to keep your families safe,” Brom snapped. “The prince might endure your hypocrisy, but I will not.” He strode ahead, not meeting up with Thea but disassociating from the group.

Merek, Isolde, and Fendrel watched him go with wide eyes of surprise. Fendrel nearly opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Brom wasn’t entirely wrong.

Isolde cleared her throat awkwardly. “Do you think Carac is all right?”

“He’ll be fine.” Merek sounded more sure than he looked. “The rascal is tougher than he seems.”

“But a mirka?” Isolde shook her head. “No one survives that.”

No one knew how to answer that. What could they say? They all knew the odds.

Merek walked faster, and Fendrel and Isolde hurried to keep up.