Orrin awkwardly gathered his books as he stepped out into the hallway with Finley. He took his time, trying to get a read on Finley’s mood. He’d told Professor Wren he needed to talk with Orrin for a classified matter but retained the same relaxed pose he showed on the Battle Class field before a fight. Orrin noticed a pack stuffed to overflowing sitting against the wall next to the classroom door.

“Did you just get back?” Orrin asked, pointedly staring at Finley’s sock that had fallen out of the bag. “I heard you went to the front lines of the war with the elves.”

Finley snapped his fingers and walked away, expecting Orrin to follow. He left his things behind, glancing around but ignoring Orrin.

Orrin walked slowly behind him. Finley’s boots left flakes of dirt with each step. Three of Finley’s daggers were missing and the clothes he wore over his armor were ripped in places, letting Orrin see the hard leather he kept hidden underneath.

He returned from the war front and the first thing he does is stop to talk to me. This isn’t good.

Finley rummaged his hand in his pocket and took a key out. He scanned up and down the hallway with wary eyes before using the key on a nearby door and shouldering it open. “Get in.”

Orrin hesitated until Finley’s eyebrows pushed together. He stepped in and made sure to put on every version of ward he had. He was close to getting away and was not going to get into another fight. If Finley attacked him, he was going to down him as fast as he could and run.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The classroom hadn’t been used anytime recently if the dust covering the seats and desks was any clue. Curtains choked off most of the evening light but Finley solved that by yanking them open. Light streamed into the room and Orrin raised his hands as Finley approached him.

“What is going on, Finley? This is a little too cloak and dagger for my taste.”

Finley raised his open hand above his head and squeezed it shut. “We need to talk quickly. I’m not supposed to be back until tomorrow. I had to pay a [Locationist] a lot of gold to break protocol. Even if she hasn’t reported me by now, too many people saw me arrive.”

Orrin’s ears popped as the air around them condensed into a familiar feeling. Finley had cast a version of whatever spell Graem used when he wanted to talk in private. He stepped back, holding his hands up. “Still being a little scary there, buddy.”

Finley noticed his free hand was tapping the hilt of one of his knives. “Sorry, I’m still a bit jumpy. Your friend is a right bastard in a fight and if Madeleine wasn’t there, I’m not sure I would have made it out.”

Orrin froze at hearing Madi’s full name for only a moment but Finley was watching for it.

“It is you, then. You don’t look exactly like who she described but when she talked about who you are as a person, I knew. You’re Orrin, right? The party member of the [Hero] of Dey that was executed for trying to kill Lord Sanerris?”

Orrin briefly considered lying but at this point, he had nothing to lose. “We didn’t try to kill him. He was torturing our friend and we rescued him. I got stuck behind and they locked me up with this.” Orrin tugged on the collar around his neck. “It’s a slave collar. There’s also a [Glamour] on me so I look different.”

Finley kept his hands away from his weapons, which was the only reason Orrin was talking instead of hitting him with a few [Decrease Strength] spells and running away.

Finley cursed. “Is it true that the elves aren’t attacking us and Odrana pushed the aggression first?”

“From what the elves told me and Madi, yes. They just want to be left alone. Lord Sanerris attacked Daniel… the [Hero]… in their forest. How are my friends doing?”

Finley turned away from Orrin’s gaze. “It hasn’t been easy on anyone on the border. Madeleine has always been strong but your friend’s eyes… We’ve been taking lots of losses wherever he attacks or defends.”

Orrin’s heart broke for Daniel. They’d known that Odrana would throw their superior numbers at the elves but that was only theory. Daniel was defending the innocent from an aggressor but killing people took a toll.

“You fought him?” Orrin asked. “I’ve seen you fight. Is he okay?”

Finley let out a strangled laugh. “Is he okay? I almost died. If Madeleine hadn’t stepped between us, I would be dead. I didn’t expect to see her on the battlefield and when she told me to take my regiment and retreat, I thought it was a joke. She kept the [Hero] back while he raged and tried to goad me into attacking again.”

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The man began to pick at his hair bun, idly pulling it loose. “I was ordered to hold a line along our border for the first few days but when we were sent on scouting missions more and more, I realized we were capturing new land and holding it. My family keeps good maps. We protect the border with Veskar. I might not spend much time in Idrisid but I know the major land markers near where I was stationed. Madeleine confirmed my fears. I was ready to pull my men back and confront Lord Palmer. Then Daniel asked me something strange. He wanted to know if I knew where Lady Sanerris was hiding.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said.” Finley pulled a chair out from a desk and sat down. “I’m exhausted. Sit down or stand, it’s fine.”

Finley kept his hands in plain sight, obviously trying to show that he wasn’t a threat. “He asked like I should know but I didn’t. Why would I? Lady Sanerris handed over the rule of Mistlight to her son and retired. I’ve met her all of three times in my life. I told him that I might have heard my parents mention she lived by the sea once. He cursed and that’s when Madeleine said Lady Sanerris had captured their friend. They raided her villa by the sea but arrived too late. There were only a few guards that they overpowered. They found a dead body that looked like their friend and Daniel almost lost it. Luckily, Madeleine’s grown in her magic and saw through the illusion because she hinted he wanted to attack Mistlight directly. We talked for a few more minutes as I made my troops fall back and the more they talked about you, the more I was suspicious.”

Orrin remembered the man he’d killed in self-defense. Did Anabella use a [Glamour] on him so he’d look like me? How many people looked like him in death now? Two?

“How did they know I was alive? Did you tell them about me?” Orrin had stayed standing and unconsciously walked closer to Finley. “Are they on their way?”

Finley shook his head. “I didn’t want to get their hopes up. I thought I should make sure first. I guess Daniel never believed you were dead. They paid some people to try and free you before the execution but that didn’t work. They retrieved your body from the ocean after your execution, which I have to say is damn impressive. From what I gathered, the fact that so much effort was taken to make it seem like you were dead is what kept them both going on the hunt. It’s funny to me. When you arrived, I thought you were just a random noble’s kid but the way you fought, I thought this kid had training. I looked into you but couldn’t find anything. Why are you here?”

For what felt like the hundredth time, Orrin explained his capture, imprisonment, and forced servitude into the political world of Odrana. Finley’s look of disgust caught him off guard. “It’s not like I had a choice. My plan was always to tell you, Maeve, and Rhys everything before I escaped. I’m not a fan of either Sanerris.”

“I’m not blaming you. You did what you had to in order to stay alive. I’m embarrassed that our country played you like this.” Finley stood and stuck his hand out. “Casi… no, Orrin. I apologize on behalf of Odrana. I’ll get that slave collar off you, get you back to the front line, and help you sneak over to your friends.”

Orrin shook Finley’s hand, letting out a sigh that quickly choked into a sob. He cast [Calm Mind] on himself before the tears pushed out. “Thank you, Finley.”

“Grab your things. I’ll see if my [Locationist] can get us back tonight.”

Orrin imagined Daniel’s face when he snuck up on him. His friend who was fighting a war…

“What about the war? Why were you being sent back?”

Finley smiled sheepishly. “I’m being court-marshaled for not following orders. When I got back with my regiment, I demanded to know why we were pushing into the elven territory. Lord Palmer is lazy and doesn’t do anything that doesn’t benefit himself. He told me I had my orders and to go back out immediately. I refused and he became aggressive. Taking a swing at me was a mistake.” Finley shrugged with a wide smile on his face.

Orrin frowned. “Why would he swing at you? I’m sure he had other people that could go out in your place.”

Orrin thought about what he knew. Anabella said that a great victory would be announced in five days, which would be tomorrow. Finley rejected his orders to go back out to fight. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he pieced together Anabella hadn’t meant a great victory for Odrana.

“You were supposed to die tomorrow.”

“What?” Finley’s hand moved to his dagger and his eyes narrowed. “That’s not a threat, is it?”

Orrin pulled out the Twin Book of Sending and showed it to Finley, telling him what Anabella’s last message had said. It was long cleared but his own messages to her were still there. “I think you were supposed to die. I’ll bet you were on the southern part of Idrisid, near the border to Veskar.”

Finley paled. “I thought they kept me there because I know the lands down there a little better.”

Orrin told Finley about the recent attempt on Rhys’s life. “I think Anabella wanted you two to die so your parents would move to attack Veskar and vote her back into power.”

“Why would she send you to cozy up to us then?” Finley asked, trying to poke holes into Orrin’s theory.

“Plausible deniability. She can point to me if anything goes wrong and say she was trying to keep you safe.”

Finley did pull a dagger now and glanced at the door. “If I knew where she was…” he trailed off. “What do we do then? I slipped a few guards but I was supposed to be brought back here to Mistlight. My dad would have the charges dropped and I’d return home for a year or two but now I think you’re right and someone would have attacked me.”

Orrin hated what he was about to say. He wasn’t political or smart enough to outwit Anabella. But with the right people around him…

“I have a terrible idea that might get me killed.”

Finley blew a stray hair out of his face and began to tie his hair back again, the dagger held between two fingers as he worked a small thread back around the bun. “That sounds like something we should avoid.”

“But it might also end one war and stop another from starting.”

Orrin explained his thoughts to Finley.

“That’s not a plan,” Finley complained. “That’s suicide.”

Orrin smiled. “Not if we time it right.”

Finley rolled his neck and stretched his arms above his head. “You realize this is going to end with a fight?”

“I’m counting on it.”