"Galdreth," Fin called up to the stablehand in the loft.
Galdreth peered over a hay bale, stifling a yawn. "Fin?"
"How did he sleep through that?" Sofia muttered.
"We're moving again."
"At midnight?"
"Yes."
"Of course, sir."
Galdreth descended from the loft, a packed bag in hand.
"Why have him sleep in the stables?" Sofia asked.
Fin shrugged.
"I asked to sleep here." Galdreth rubbed the back of his neck. "Horses are quieter than people."
He set down his bag and began saddling the roan gelding, soothing him with a pat.
Why does he already have a bag packed?
The question lingered uneasily in Lina's chest. She glanced at Galdreth, her brows drawing together. Before she could ask, she caught Fin watching her with a faintly amused expression.
Galdreth noticed her looking and shrugged. "Sometimes it's better to be ready."
The answer seemed too simple. Lina looked at the bag again, then turned as he brought a pinto mare toward her.
"She'll get you where you need to go."
He offered the reins. The mare tossed her head, shifting the brown patch that covered one eye.
"I don't know how to ride," Lina admitted, her cheeks warming.
"We'll go slow."
Sofia swung a leg over a saddled chestnut. Galdreth patted the pinto's neck.
"Chewy's too old to give you much trouble. Focus on keeping your seat."
"All right."
He helped her into the saddle, then went to ready his own horse. Lina took a deep breath, settling against the creaking leather.
It can't be that bad.
If you don't want to get tossed, don't pull or squeeze too hard.
She loosened her grip on the reins. There was rather more horse beneath her than she'd expected, and very little keeping her on it.
Fin rode out of the stables. Chewy followed without prompting. Lina yelped, dropped the reins, and grabbed the pommel.
You're leaving.
Her fingers tightened around the worn leather.
Yes.
Where are you going?
"I don't—" She stopped. "Where are we going, Fin?"
"What are you reacting to?" Sofia asked from the back of their small procession.
Lina shook her head and managed a weak smile. "Stress."
"Breathe and settle into your seat," Galdreth advised.
She lowered her shoulders and tried to ease the tension in her back.
"It's more than that," Sofia said.
"Briarwood," Fin interrupted.
They continued in silence, leaving the inn behind.
Isn't Briarwood outside the kingdom?
It's not in either kingdom, Raithe answered. Mostly farmland. It supplies both sides. If Eryndor tried to claim it, Avelis would bring the war onto Eryndor's soil.
He spoke calmly, without hesitation. Lina glanced toward Fin, then back at the road.
Why hasn't Avelis done that already?
Eryndor started the war to annex Avelis and take its resources. Eryndor has nothing Avelis wants. And its nobles can't sustain their estates without expanding the borders or uniting with another country.
The famine, Lina said. Our land isn't fertile enough.
A hollow ache settled in her. She remembered her brother fading, his eyes distant even as he tried to soothe her through the hunger. The king had called it a bad harvest. Lina remembered the hush that settled over their home, the empty chairs, and the promise she'd made beside her brother's bed: she would never simply accept what she was told.
Yes.
Why doesn't Eryndor trade with Avelis?
Raithe gave a short laugh. Eryndor didn't like the terms.
Lina waited for him to explain. The road carried them through the remaining hours of darkness. By the time buildings rose in the distance, sunlight had begun to crest the horizon. She stifled a yawn, and Chewy quickened her pace.
What terms?
Avelis required Eryndor to abolish the mage council and lift the ban on certain magics.
Like necromancy?
He paused.
The Avelian king is a necromancer.
Her breath caught. She knew that, but hearing it spoken so plainly unsettled her. Some whispered that he forged pacts with shades. A secret part of her wondered what it would feel like to command such magic—and why anyone would want to.
There had been something bitter in the way Raithe said king.
Wrath?
He chuckled. No one seems to know his face or his name.
A man galloped past on a black warhorse, its flanks slick with sweat.
"Make way! A message from the King of Eryndor for the lord of Briarwood!"
Sofia watched him disappear over the hill toward the gates. More hooves thundered behind them, and Fin guided his horse aside to let the riders pass.
"Eryndorian soldiers headed to Briarwood," Sofia said. "And a royal messenger?"
"Something happen at the border?" Galdreth asked.
"Isn't there always something happening at the border?" Lina said.
No, Raithe replied.
The cold certainty in his voice twisted her stomach. She waited for more, but he offered nothing.
"The necromancer turns good men into puppets," Sofia said, watching the soldiers ride ahead.
"Men sent to fight a losing war," Fin replied. "If our damned nobles would just sign the treaty."
Sofia turned on him. "Why would we let that monster into our kingdom?"
Raithe laughed.
Fin drew his horse alongside Sofia's and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"The necromancer isn't the only magic user Eryndor hunts."
She pulled away and clicked her tongue to urge her horse forward. Fin's hand fell. Chewy followed the chestnut, leaving Lina to gather the reins again.
"I know," Sofia said, her voice tight. "Mages are people. They don't deserve to be hunted or put in shackles. But that man isn't human."
Fin didn't reply.
The gates of Briarwood stood open ahead of them. A guard waved them through.
"Lots of visitors today."
"Any news from the road?" another asked.
Lina shook her head.
Just inside the gates, a woman leaned across a small fruit stall.
"Did you hear? They let him in," she whispered. "Stabbed him clean in the chest."
The reins slipped in Lina's damp hands.
Something about the words felt wrong. Too close, too familiar. Her gaze dropped to her own chest before she could stop it.
Who had been stabbed?
She scanned the crowd, searching for the rest of the conversation. The woman lowered her voice, and a passing cart swallowed whatever came next. Even Fin looked tense, his mouth set as he surveyed the street.
"Is it safe to be in Briarwood?" Lina asked.
"I don't think it happened here," Sofia said.
A few guards dozed beneath the early morning sun. Merchants arranged their stalls. Everything looked ordinary.
Then the same tug she'd felt when the undead fell snapped tight in her chest.
Closer now. Too close.