“I can’t see your wound,” Arya said.
Garrin started. He’d been dozing—not intentionally, and not well, but sometime between the flight from the castle and their present position on the road to Gillesport, Garrin had closed his eyes and succumbed to brief darkness. He shifted his arm, winced at the pulse of pain that shot through it, and cleared his throat. “What?”
“Your arm,” Arya said. Her horse trotted near his, close enough that she could reach out and touch him. “I can see blood, but not the wound. We have to bind it before you lose too much blood.”
Garrin twisted gingerly to show her his arm. His sleeve was soaked through, but at least it wasn’t dripping anymore. “It can wait until we get to Gillesport,” he said.
Though Arya looked uncertain, she didn’t argue. She turned her eyes forward and rode silently for a few moments before looking back at him. “Are you well?”
“It hurts,” Garrin said. “But it isn’t serious.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Garrin inhaled slowly. The cold air stung his throat, but it was a clear, grounding feeling that banished some of the fog still clinging to his thoughts. “This is not how I expected things to go,” he admitted.
“If you hadn’t come after me—” she started, but Garrin shook his head.
“No. This was Renton’s doing.” And Asella’s, and the council’s, and his father’s.
His father. Garrin had left him with two people who showed no hesitation over killing royalty, abandoning the king to his own fate and escaping to save himself. And his mother—what would happen to her? Would they kill her as well, or keep her prisoner to ensure the king’s continued cooperation?
“You look troubled,” Arya said gently. “You are worried about something else?”
“My parents,” Garrin admitted.
Arya offered him a small smile. “They aren’t likely to be in any real danger. Renton may restrict them to the castle grounds, but they rarely leave anyway. They’re both cooperative, so I doubt he’ll have any need to threaten them.”
Garrin nodded, though her words did little to comfort him even as he recognized the sense in them. It still felt like he’d abandoned them.
They were over halfway to Gillesport, and Garrin managed to stay awake for the rest of the journey. He and Arya had fallen to the rear of the group, though Senjay stayed close enough to drop back in case of trouble. Elonie and Lliane ranged farther ahead, far enough that they occasionally disappeared from view. Garrin guessed Elonie was eager to find Dellon and warn him about what had happened at the castle. Dellon was already at odds with Renton, and his sister’s actions certainly wouldn’t help. It would be safer for him to avoid the castle until...
Until what? It was only a matter of time before Garrin’s friends started asking what his plan was, and he didn’t want to admit that he had none. His first concern had been escaping and getting everyone to safety, but what next? Gillesport could only shelter them for so long—eventually they would have to leave. Where could he go that Renton would not find him?
Maybe this was his chance after all. His chance to leave his problems as prince behind him, to strike out on his own and live the life he’d dreamed about. He could take on a new identity and travel the world, singing and playing music and worrying only about which town he would visit next. He’d planned on doing just that only a few days ago... why did the thought of it make his stomach turn now?
Trails of smoke rose into the air before them; they would reach Gillesport in minutes. Garrin threw an anxious look over his shoulder, but there were no signs of pursuit. Apparently cutting the straps of the stable saddles had done enough to slow the soldiers down. Once Garrin and the others reached the streets of the busy port town, they’d have even more time. All they had to do was lose themselves in the crowd.
Lliane slowed her horse to a trot and waited for Garrin to catch up. “Elonie went on ahead,” she reported. “She wanted to find her brother. They’re going to meet us at the docks.”
“Why the docks?” Senjay asked. “It would be better to find a place to hide within the city, wait until things blow over—”
“Things aren’t going to blow over,” Lliane said.
“And we have no way of knowing who Renton has in the city,” Arya added. “He may have spies and allies everywhere. We can’t be sure of whom to trust.”
Senjay scowled. “You think escaping by sea will be any better? There are only so many routes a ship can take at this point in the season. It will not be hard for Renton to trail us over the water.”
“Garrin?” Arya asked. “What should we do?”
That was sooner than he expected. He didn’t have an answer yet. If they fled, he could sever any remaining ties to his old life and begin anew. If they stayed, he might be able to sneak back into the castle at some point, assuming he could evade Renton’s spies, and perhaps free his parents if they wanted to be freed. And then what? Escape again? Renounce his birthright in three or six months rather than that moment?
“To the docks for now,” Garrin said at last, aware of the others’ eyes on him. “We have to meet Elonie and Dellon before we can decide anything.”
Lliane led the way into town, winding through the crowded streets toward the harbor. They weren’t the only ones on horseback, but they still drew several curious looks as they passed. Garrin tried to appear unhurried and unassuming, but he doubted it would matter. If Renton had spies in the city, they would know of his presence within the hour. It was better to focus on speed than on concealment.
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“Elonie said she’d be at the northern end of the port,” Lliane said as they rode. “Something about Dellon being closer to that side of the city.”
“If we’re going to take a ship, we won’t need the horses,” Arya said.
“If we take a ship,” Senjay muttered.
Garrin considered. If they sold the horses, they would have enough to travel far enough to give themselves a chance to breathe. They could decide what to do then—either get off at the next port or continue on to another kingdom. To run away or go back to fight.
“We need money,” Garrin decided. “Whether we’re going to stay in town or get on a ship, the horses will only draw attention to us. We should sell them.”
No one argued—not even Senjay. “We should find a buyer away from the docks,” Arya said. “No sense in advertising where we’re going.”
They found a stable a few streets away, and Lliane handled the sale. “I’m least likely to be recognized,” she pointed out. “It’s a good thing I went with a simple dress this morning, isn’t it?”
Garrin and the others waited in the alley. It didn’t take long for Lliane to return, grinning. “I got extra for the saddles,” she said proudly.
“Good work,” Garrin told her. “Is it enough to buy us passage out of Fyrest?”
Senjay grabbed at his uninjured arm. “We can’t leave! My sisters are still in the castle!”
“Your sisters are with their mother,” Arya said. “And she will keep them safe. Renton is after you, not them.”
“I don’t want to leave,” Senjay insisted.
“What choice do we have?” Lliane asked. “Staying won’t help them. Better to leave and return later, if that’s what you want to do.” She looked at Garrin, her jaw set. “We have enough to leave, yes. And a little extra.”
“No one will be forced to go anywhere he doesn’t wish,” Garrin said, gently pulling his arm free of Senjay’s grip. “If you wish to stay, you’ll have your share from the horses to help you.”
“And what can I do on my own?” Senjay snorted.
Garrin hitched his shoulder. “Whatever you decide is best.” He stepped out of the alley and marched toward the docks, listening to the comforting sound of his friends’ footsteps behind him. One, two... yes, all three were following. Garrin didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t thrilled at the thought of leaving Senjay behind. He felt he owed the Thiyaan prince for standing up to his mother and Renton, though he hadn’t asked for the support. Nor had Senjay asked for his in retrieving his sisters—but if Garrin could help, shouldn’t he? After everything Senjay had risked for him, how could he not do the same? Especially since it wasn’t just Senjay’s sisters at risk.
“There,” Arya said, pointing. Garrin turned to see Elonie and Dellon waving from the boardwalk leading to the docks. Lliane hurried toward them, but Senjay hesitated at Garrin’s back.
“I want your word,” he said, slowing to a stop.
Garrin took a breath and faced him. “Your sisters are in no danger,” he said. “Your mother is Renton’s ally. He won’t do anything to harm them.”
“Even being around that man is dangerous,” Senjay said.
Garrin agreed with that, but he didn’t say so. Instead, he reached out and put his hand on the Thiyaan prince’s shoulder. “If I can help them, I will,” he said. “Though it may not be as soon as you like. We can do nothing without a plan and reinforcements. Our only option now is to get out of Fyrest and find someplace safe to regroup.”
Senjay grunted. “I will hold you to that,” he said, sweeping past Garrin and onto the dock.
For a moment, Garrin watched him go, feeling a sinking weight in his stomach. “It sounds like you’re preparing to return,” Arya said at his side.
“I’m thinking about it,” he admitted.
“I thought you’d be more opportunistic about this,” she said. “This could be your only chance at the life you wanted.”
Wanted. Past tense. She had to have phrased it that way on purpose. Garrin looked at her, at the dirt still smudged on her hands and clothes, and sighed. “What would you do?”
“Whatever you do,” she said. “I think you’ve already made up your mind. Whatever you decide, I will be with you.”
The sinking feeling settled into something warmer, like a counterbalance rather than an anchor. “That is all I need,” he said. He reached for her hand, and she smiled when he guided her toward the others.
“I know of a captain,” Dellon said as they approached. “He thought he might want to be a Sage one day, but it wasn’t in the cards for him. I’m sure he’d give us passage.”
Garrin nodded, and Dellon led the way to a ship anchored a little way ahead. By then the excitement of their flight had worn off, and Garrin’s arm throbbed anew with every step. His body felt heavy, as though it would take all his strength to carry him the last few steps onto the ship—assuming the captain would allow them on board. A tenuous connection to the Sages might not be enough to guarantee them passage, and every minute they wasted brought Renton closer to discovering them.
But he found, when he paused to think it through, that he trusted Dellon. And he trusted Elonie, and Lliane, and even Senjay. And Arya, despite their rocky start, despite her resistance and his blindness—Arya had promised to stay by his side, no matter what he chose. He had never had so many people on whom he could rely.
And he had never needed them more.
Dellon jogged up the gangplank and questioned a sailor, who pointed toward a tall man in a heavy blue coat. “Stay here,” Dellon said. “I’ll speak to the captain.”
He hurried off, leaving the others on the deck. A frosty wind whipped past their faces, ripping through their hair and clothes. “What’s the plan?” Elonie asked, raising her voice to be heard over the shouting sailors and pounding surf.
All eyes turned to Garrin, and for once, he had an answer prepared. “No one is bound to come with me,” he began. “If you wish to leave now, or to stay in Gillesport, I will not stop you. But I mean to leave Fyrest.”
“You are fleeing then,” Senjay said bitterly.
“For now,” Garrin said. “Until I can gather enough support to return.”
Lliane pushed her hair from her face, but another gust of wind blew it back. “You intend to challenge Renton?”
“I intend to reclaim what is mine,” Garrin said.
“It will take an army,” Lliane said.
Garrin nodded. “And people I can trust. Right now, that is only the five of you.”
Elonie smiled and saluted. “How can you make me a captain-baroness if I do not help you? You know you have my support, sire, and Dellon’s as well.”
“I want my sisters safe,” Senjay said. “And Thiyaan’s treachery corrected. If you intend to face Renton and my mother, I will be there.”
There was a pause, and then Lliane sighed. “I suppose there’s no use going back to the castle,” she said. “My family will leave as soon as they hear that I’ve gone. And at least this way I will get to see some of the world before I’m married off to some ancient duke.”
Garrin grinned, and his eyes sought Arya’s. He already had her answer, but she met his gaze anyway and held it for a long moment. Then she looked at his bloody arm and said, “We should bind that. You’ll need your sword arm.”
Relief flooded through him. He would have tried to challenge Renton on his own, but knowing that he had help gave him a settled feeling. This was the right decision.
“Here,” Elonie said softly, and Garrin turned to see Dellon returning with a smile on his face.
“They will take us,” he announced. “And for a little extra, the captain has agreed to leave early.”
“Make it right away, whatever it costs,” Garrin said.
Lliane nodded and returned to the captain with Dellon, and Garrin looked out over the docks to the buildings and streets of Gillesport. He wondered if he should feel sad about leaving it behind, or nervous about the journey ahead, but he felt neither. Instead, a strange peace had settled over him, which warmed into something like contentment when Arya stepped closer and took his hand.
“It isn’t goodbye,” she said, looking up at him as though reading his mind.
Garrin shook his head. It wasn’t goodbye, at least not a permanent one. Whether it took weeks or months or years, Garrin would find a way to gather the support he needed.
And then, when he was ready to challenge Renton, he would be back.