Claire couldn’t help but feel content as she sat at the front of a cart directing her two horses onwards. Thank goodness Jemroth had taught her the basics of driving. She was no expert, but she could manage. Three quarters of the day had passed since Eidan had ordered his army out of the city at first light. The sun was high in the sky and the gentle clip-clop of hooves against the wide dirt road was soothing after the drama of yesterday. Lotte and Gareth were inside her cart, cramped alongside animal skin tents, warm blankets and coats, while Jemroth was driving a cart a spot or two behind her in the snaking army line. The rest of the baggage train stretched out for miles ahead and behind, carrying tents, weapons, bandages, food and other medical supplies.

They’d passed through two towns and crossed the river at a wide stone bridge around mid-morning. The land had been green and fertile, dotted with farmhouses and villages, farmers glancing up and smiling or waving in cheerful acknowledgement as they slowly passed. However, as the afternoon wore on, farmhouses became few and far between, the road grew rocky and ill-kept and the ground harder and more unforgiving. As dusk fell, Eidan called a halt, and overseers commanded coats and blankets be distributed as an unnatural chill descended.

Claire glanced behind her and Jemroth waved before getting on with settling his horses. She copied his movements, the action of soothing her own mounts reminding her of home and relaxing her nerves too, then she went to help with setting up tents. Lotte followed her at a careful distance while Gareth took Jemroth’s lead to tend to the many horses in the baggage train. The falling darkness was somehow comforting as Claire struck at peg after peg. As she worked, she kept an eye out for Marcus. The sooner she could speak with him the better.

Sidling closer to the vanguard – the other servants didn’t protest as she was clearly doing more than her fair share of work – she was inconspicuous in a sea of other plainly uniformed men and women, her dyed brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. As she toiled, red dots bloomed into life as campfires were lit, smoke and the crackle of burning kindling filling the air. The sight was a little magical and Claire could almost forget the danger she was in. With a sigh, she tore her gaze away, reminding herself to look for Marcus. Men and women in leather uniforms with the symbol of Kelnariat stitched at their chest huddled in groups, some leaning against spears or with arms crossed, others sitting in circles and munching on dried meat.

Squinting, she saw Eidan and some of his advisors, including Heath, standing by an enormous animal hide tent covered with a purple silk overlay. Her breath caught as she saw Marcus standing at his right. As she stared, Marcus looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He took an uncertain half-step back from the others, then made a muttered excuse, heading right for her.

Her heart hammered. She hoped he’d had the sense to say nothing to Eidan about her presence or she’d have to make a wild run for it. She made sure Marcus still had his gaze trained on her as she ducked behind a cluster of tents so Eidan was no longer in view.

She barely had time to compose herself and think through what she’d say before Marcus poked his head around the tent, his hands outstretched. “I knew you’d see sense, Claire! Come and meet Eidan!”

Claire groaned. She should have predicted this. Her brother had said she should come see him again if she changed her mind and she was in Eidan’s war camp. “What did you tell him, Marcus?” she hissed, sliding her fingers out of his grasp.

He blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said. “I promised I wouldn’t, but why does that matter now?”

“I’m not here to switch sides,” she said, figuring it was better to be blunt. There was no sugar coating this. “I came to ask you to listen. You need to come away with me. It’s the only way we can get home.”

His face flushed in the half-light and his fist clenched and unclenched at his side. “Not this again, Sis. Just admit you’re wrong.”

Claire pulled Marcus close to her side as a knot of soldiers ambled past, heading for a pile of blankets laid out in a circle. “I’m not. You and Eidan are being misled. The Beast is a creature of the Rift and will be destroyed with it. It can’t take you back to Shale. It wants to survive so it’s telling you what you want to hear.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I … how can you be so sure?”

“It’s visited me in nightmares and when I perform bigger spells. It came to the Dream Mages too. It killed Rinn Taccala, no matter what Eidan claims.”

“You keep going on about having magical talent, but I haven’t seen the proof.”

Claire lit a cold flame in the palm of her hand. “There. Will that do?”

Marcus’s eyes widened in shock, but then to her surprise he turned away, lips twisted like the sight pained him. When he finally swung back to face her, he sounded strained, like he suppressed tears. “If this is true, you must come and tell Eidan what you know. It will be safer for you. The Council will know you mean well. Not only that, but your friends will also regain their lost status too.” He looked about the cluster of tents near them like he’d find a troupe of Claire’s allies behind an open flap.

Claire considered his words. If Eidan was a total innocent in what was happening in Kelnarium, then Marcus’s plan was a good one, but the truth was she didn’t know what motivated the leader. Worse, she feared the hatred and distrust of magical brethren that he’d engendered in his people had taken on a life of its own. Even if Eidan believed her, there’d be others keen to snuff out her life. Wallis and Heath for a start.

She shook her head regretfully. “It’s too risky. We’re better off going now and when everything is fixed, if Eidan’s friendship means so much to you, we can go back and explain the situation to him before Gwenivere sends us to Shale.”

“I can’t run off without so much as a message,” Marcus said uncomfortably.

“Why?” Claire asked. Who cared about upsetting someone when a whole world was at stake?

“Like you’d understand, Claire,” he said, face screwing up in anger. “He treated me like his equal from the first; he recognised my talents, he listened to me, he’s taken me under his wing. He knows I deserve more than a backwater country town like Shale, that I’m smart and talented and charismatic.”

Claire had never thought of Marcus as being conceited before but as he stood next to her with arms folded over his chest, his lips in a sulky pout, she couldn’t help but think that Kelnarium had brought out the worst in him.

“For all I know, Eidan is in league with the Beast knowing full well what the outcome will be,” she said. “Have you stopped to consider that you wrote off Grandfather too quickly and put too much stock in Eidan? He isn’t the Mr Perfect you make him out to be. He murdered the Dorrans and I’m fairly certain he paid men to murder the villagers and exiles around Kelnariat and Dorran Manor.”

“Why on Earth would he destroy his own people, his own world?”

“I don’t know. Right now, it doesn’t matter because he’s a murderer, however he justifies that to himself and to you.”

“So? I believe Eidan will get me home. I believe Mum went to our world with Dad to get away from our shitty Kelnarium relatives. I believe she’s been obsessed with her charity work ever since as a kind of atonement. I believe if she were here, she’d tell you to do what I say because I’m the oldest.”

“Mum only left because Dad wasn’t coping away from Shale,” Claire said. “Yeah, I agree she felt bad about how her family treated the exiles, but that doesn’t mean she stopped loving her Dorran relatives.”

Marcus looked mutinous. “That’s not what Eidan told me.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Because he’s totally unbiased when it comes to the Dorrans.” She paused for breath as uncharitable thoughts loomed. She had a horrible feeling she understood why Marcus had turned away at the sight of her learth ability. “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“You’re jealous that Kelnarium needs me instead of you. You can’t stand being bad at something for once. I bet at Dorran Manor, you couldn’t handle sucking at magic and because it wouldn’t come easy, you didn’t try. I bet you hated people not falling at your feet in adulation. Get over your hurt pride, Marcus, and do the right thing.”

He reeled back like she’d slapped him, then studied her face carefully. “So, what you’re saying is you won’t see Eidan.” His voice held a nasty edge. “Not now, not ever, come hell or high water. It’s your way or the highway. Fine, but let me remind you, I’m the eldest and our parents would want me to look after you. If I need to tell Eidan you’re in his camp to save you from yourself, I will.”

“What do you mean?” Her skin prickled. “Don’t give me away, Marcus. You can’t.”

“I’ll do what I think’s best,” Marcus replied.

“No,” Claire said bitterly. “You don’t want to admit I’m correct about Eidan and the Beast because if you do, you’ll have to admit you’ve been a bit of an idiot. Not only that, you don’t want to tarnish your precious Kelnariat reputation, which is what will happen if Eidan finds out I’m alive and working against him.”

The guilt in her brother’s eyes told her that she was right.

“Get away from me,” she said.

“But—” he began.

“Go.”

Marcus stared, lips parted in shock.

So much had changed since she and Marcus had spent that day in Shale’s National Park. Back then, they’d been close. Now, she and Marcus were stuck on two opposing sides, each convinced that the other was in the wrong. Could Claire find a way to bridge that gap? As Marcus stumbled away from her, hurt and confusion in his eyes and tears glistening on his cheeks, she knew it was no use. Her brother’s pride would never let him admit he’d made a terrible mistake in trusting Eidan.