Outside Krydon, in the dark, Gray lost his bearings.

And it was a damn waste of time.

Killian would be hot behind him. Every moving shadow, every trick of the light, Gray was sure Killian would appear behind him, fury etched onto every scar and line on his face.

They rode to the edge of the forest, but Gray couldn’t find the entrance to the miner’s trail. Fudgie didn’t like being this close to the forest, didn’t like the quiet rustlings and snapping of twigs and the strange night bird calls.

Gray muttered a curse. Pushed down rising panic.

He couldn’t leave the Ralphs.

Not to be dragged back to prison by a very, very angry Killian.

‘Where to?’ said Sorena.

Her voice rang across the darkness, clear as a bell. There was a momentary silence in the night bird’s calling, and a momentary stilling of whatever creatures were making the undergrowth rustle.

Gray didn’t want to admit to her that he couldn’t find the trail.

Sorena’s body was hot against his. She was trembling.

There was a sudden movement. Shapes emerged from shadows within the forest treeline. It was the two Ralphs, on the dappled mare and the draft horse from the stables.

Their faces were pale and tight under the moonlight.

Despite himself, Gray did a double take. They’d both mounted two very large horses, with no aid of a saddle, stirrup, nothing. They were handling the horses like they had been born up there.

The darkness hid the filthy state of their mage robes, and the once-luxurious layers of fabric flew out behind them.

The horses huffed as they got closer.

Gray could feel their stares lingering on Sorena, taking her in in complete silence.

‘Is that,’ said Oliver, who managed to sound quietly horrified, ‘who I think it is?’

Sorena turned in the saddle to give Gray a cold and pointed stare.

‘We’re so screwed,’ said Oliver. ‘They’re going to send every last soldier to scour this forest.’

‘Happy?’ muttered Sorena to Gray. ‘They’re here. They’re fine. Let’s go.’

‘We couldn’t find the trail,’ Lyrie said.

There was an expectant silence, every eye on Gray.

Gray hesitated, staring out at the dark silhouette of the forest.

There was no detail he could see, nothing, the hairs were going up on the back of Gray’s neck -

‘You’re lost,’ said Sorena. She seemed to sense danger too, because her voice, usually so icy, was now a hot whisper. ‘You’re lost.’ She snatched the reins tightly in her hands. ‘You stupid little boy.’

Swearing, Sorena turned Fudgie around, not that she needed much encouragement, and they cantered over the open field, back to the dirt road. The Ralphs followed closely.

‘Which way?’ Sorena said. She clocked the Ralphs following. ‘You stay here. Find your family.’

‘We can’t find them,’ said Oliver. ‘We’re not staying out here, in the open, do you know what’s lurking -‘

‘Then piss off into the forest,’ said Sorena, kicking her heels into Fudgie. Fudgie stubbornly slowed to a very plodding walk.

‘We’re not going in there alone,’ said Lyrie. 'We can't find any of the trails.'

‘We’re not leaving them for Killian to track, Sorena,’ hissed Gray.

Sorena shook her head. Gray could feel the heat coming off her. She was sweating. Her shoulders were caving inwards. If she passed out, Gray was going to have a hell of a time getting them out of there.

Lyrie’s mouth was clamped shut. Her eyebrows were knitted over her fierce black eyes.

‘You should return to Reviness,’ said Sorena.

‘My family forbade it,’ said Lyrie. ‘We shouldn’t even be here, we shouldn’t be talking-‘

‘Great,’ snapped Sorena, ‘shut up and go.’

Lyrie reeled back, her eyebrows shooting up. ‘Woah.’

‘You shut up,’ said Oliver, narrowing his eyes at Sorena. ‘You’re not giving the orders here, you don’t even know this place.’

‘I own this place, you insipid child,’ said Sorena.

‘Hey,’ said Lyrie, her voice sharp, her lip curling as she took Sorena in. Gray could clock the exact moment Lyrie’s opinion of Sorena solidified into hard dislike. ‘Don’t talk to my brother like that.’

‘Your father owns this place,’ said Oliver hotly. He’d pinned Sorena with his dark stare like he could pierce her with it. ‘You own nothing.’

‘You can’t talk to me like that.’

‘OK,’ said Gray, ‘Nobody talk to anybody-’

‘He just did, princess,’ interrupted Lyrie, ‘and he’ll do it again if you continue to be an asshole.’

Sorena made to jump down from Fudgie.

Gods help them, they were so going to get caught.

Arguing, fighting, riding a plodding horse.

They needed to be running.

Gray held her back. ‘Get a grip,’ he said. ‘You want to get hauled back to Krydon? Dierne?’

Sorena stilled. Her pulse thudded against him. Her trembling was becoming more violent. ‘Remove your arm,’ she spat.

Gray snapped his arm off her, clutching onto the back of the saddle.

But, Sorena, at least, seemed to have come to her senses. She drew in a sharp breath, and resettled herself into the saddle, maintaining a stony silence.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

‘Follow the road downhill,’ Gray said. ‘Stay out of the forest for now.’

They headed towards the closest town.

Stupid, because it would be easy to track.

But it was the fastest.

Right now, they needed speed.

They rode to Kerrville.

It took the rest of the night.

Past all the dark farms and fields and patches of forest that encroached on the road. Picking their way in the black. Following the moon as it crossed the sky and sank lower and lower.

Fudgie was done.

The Ralphs were done. Oliver was keeping up a steady stream of complaints, and Lyrie kept hissing at him to shut up, shut up.

Gray was done.

He thought he’d permanently messed up his ankle. He couldn’t feel it any more. It was like his body had given up trying to send warnings.

But, Gray wasn’t thinking. He got to Kerrville’s edge and stared at the terracotta rooftops all jammed together in the dusky light, broken up by chimney stacks and tower spires. He thought about how he had too many ties there, from when he’d run errands for Barin, getting apples and cider from the orchards and brewery there.

People knew him here.

Killian would expect him to go here.

He couldn’t bring the soldiers there.

He needed somewhere bigger.

They had to keep going.

Gray slipped off Fudgie and crumpled onto the dirt road, grazing his palms and knees. The sky was beginning to blush as it neared dawn. Fudgie snuffled the back of Gray’s neck and then wandered off when he didn’t move.

Sorena stared at him, completely cold and emotionless.

The Ralphs had dismounted.

Sorena slid lightly off the horse, like she hadn’t been riding for damn hours. She didn’t even have dust on her boots. With a cool glance at Gray, she joined the Ralphs, some little way off.

They were whispering. Arguing. The word asshole got thrown around again. So did the phrase idiot northerers.

Gray didn’t care.

There was a tightness in Gray’s chest that refused to budge, and he could feel it in sharp detail now that the adrenaline had long died down.

Gray should’ve checked Kraus was all right. He should’ve got her out of there, too. He should have damn well left Krydon as soon as the soldiers arrived.

Lyrie was touching Gray’s shoulder with her fingertips.

‘We going in there?’ she said, nodding her head towards Kerrville.

Lyrie was painfully recognisable as mage, with her mage-styled hair, and sharp cheekbones, and bright black eyes. It was in her voice - lilting, too lilting to be anything other than a trained singer or a mage - and in how she moved - smooth, too smooth - and her bright fingernails, peeking through underneath the layers of dirt. Hell, she was recognisable as a Ralph mage, with her auburn hair, broad shoulders, and fierce gaze.

Oliver was the same.

And Sorena …

Sorena was so stunningly beautiful, so head-turning, that it was going to be a serious problem. Not to mention her acidic tongue.

And the way she didn’t know how anything in the real world worked.

‘I don’t know. Give me a minute.’ Gray sat unmoving in the dirt.

His skin tingled.

Like a flash of lightning, Gray remembered the jinx Killian had forced him to eat - as though, from a lifetime ago, but really it had only been a couple of days - in the moments after Gray had held that pair of scissors against Killian’s throat, when Gray had proven himself to be a flight risk.

The jinx in his oats.

It had been activated.

Oh, shit.

‘We have to split up,’ said Gray.

Gray staggered upright, stumbling over a tuft of hardy grass growing up in the middle of the dirt road.

‘What?’ said Sorena.

‘I,’ said Gray, ‘I think - I think I have a tracker jinx. Killian, he made me eat …’

‘Perfect,’ said Sorena coldly. ‘Just perfect. Now you mention it. Thanks a lot, Griffin.’

I only just felt it, Gray wanted to say.

But, it wasn’t important. Not now.

‘I know you want to go to Sirentown,’ Gray muttered to her. ‘But, I think it’s a bad idea. Killian knows -’

‘It’s the closest place with ships,’ snapped Sorena. ‘I know they’ll follow me there, I'm not stupid. But, once I'm on a ship, they can’t do anything about it.’

Gray glanced up at her and briefly wondered why she was so desperate to leave everything she knew. Would marrying an emperor’s son really be that bad?

He turned to the Ralphs. ‘You go with Sorena.’

‘We’re not going with her,’ said Lyrie.

‘I’m being tracked,’ said Gray, his jaw tight. ‘They - will come after me.’

‘They’ll come after Sorena, too,’ said Lyrie. ‘They’ll come after her more than you.’

Gray muttered a curse, rubbing his face. ‘Let me - let me think for a second.’

He was still wearing his old black sweater and trousers, with the left pocket heavy with coin from Barin's desk. His feet were bare. He had Alistair’s rucksack on his back.

Slowly, Gray shrugged the rucksack off. Carefully went through Alistair’s belongings.

Gray’s chest ached. His vision blurred.

Gray went through it again. Laid everything out in front of him. Turned the rucksack inside out.

Just clothes and Ali’s stat papers and two maps.

A crumpled one, so old it was torn along the folds. It showed the locations of the Ancient’s tombs in Krydon.

On the second map, Alistair had circled a location – Sirentown – and printed Wong’s in neat handwriting.

Gray folded the maps back up.

He stared at Alistair’s stat papers. The word DECEASED had appeared, scrawled across everything, in bold red lettered. His fist shook.

Ali had left no reasons. No notes explaining.

Carefully, Gray pushed down the rising heat within him. He turned to the others. ‘Lyrie, Oliver, change your hair, change your clothes.’

Gray turned his gaze away as the Ralphs climbed into Alistair’s clothes.

They’re just clothes, he told himself firmly. Alistair doesn’t need them anymore.

Alistair wouldn’t care in the slightest.

He’d be pleased to know his clothes were helping -

‘Here,’ said Lyrie, passing Gray two filthy sets of Mage robes. Her auburn hair was tied back in a messy bun. Oliver’s too. ‘Will they fit in your rucksack?’

Gray nodded, keeping his face down.

Gray dressed himself in Alistair’s clothes, as well – his trousers that were almost new (Barin had bought them for his birthday) and his collared shirt and vest. A soft set of leather shoes that were ill-suited for walking or riding, but they were the only ones packed. Ali’d been wearing his only other pair when …

Gray pressed his lips together and pushed the image of Alistair out of his mind. He glanced down at himself. More than anything Gray wanted to bathe. But, that’d have to wait.

Alistair had been taller and broader than Gray. Than all of them. Gray rolled the trousers up above his – Alistair’s – shoes, and had to button on braces to keep everything in place, but otherwise, it was OK. He shouldered Alistair’s bag.

The Ralphs and Sorena watched him.

He limped over to where Fudgie was resting. She snickered affectionately as Gray gently held his hand to her nose.

‘Feel up to a bit more?’ Gray said.

She snorted. Tired, but maybe not done, after all.

‘Sorry,’ Gray murmured. ‘Didn’t mean to insult you.’

Gray clambered clumsily on, more pulling himself up with his arms than properly mounting, his ankle suddenly flaring agony again.

The Ralphs and Sorena continued to watch him.

‘We going into this town?’ said Sorena.

‘No,’ said Gray. ‘We keep going. Get on.’

‘My brother really needs to eat and sleep, Gray,’ said Lyrie.

Gray felt a pang. Oliver was pale, and sitting cross-legged by the side of the road, his arms folded.

‘No,’ said Gray. ‘You can’t be seen by anyone here. This is one of the first places the soldiers will check. We keep going. We find food somewhere else.’

‘So, what’s the plan?’ said Sorena coldly.

‘if we're going to Sirentown together,’ said Gray, ‘we need to get there fast. Then, as soon as we arrive, we split up. We can’t be near each other. We divide and weaken the army’s resources.’

Sirentown was a city so big, it was over three million large. A city with the largest library in the known world.

Alistair had been planning to go there. But, he'd been stopped.

Avenging Alistair was rising so hot within Gray now, it was burning any fatigue he had, any fear, into ash.

'If we're going to Sirentown together ...' Gray repeated. He turned to Sorena. ‘Speed and distance. This is going to be a race. What do you need, to be able to fahren?’