I release the fog, letting it fade away to reveal a few forms lying still in the training yard, but I can’t see if they’re rangers or Awnians. The more I try to focus, the more my head hurts. I’m about to ask if Six can see anything when he lets out a short breath of relief, giving me my answer. I squint through the fading mist until I find three figures standing on the outskirts of the battle, even as the rest of the men in the yard lower the swords they had raised against each other.

Somehow, the rangers have used the confusion of the fog to get the Awnian soldiers to attack themselves.

“Stop, you fools!” shouts Oristel, his face red with rage and embarrassment. As the rest of the fog dissipates, the standard of the Border Infantry entering the yard from the tunnel becomes clear. Captain Bayal rides into the yard on a gray horse, Vikko by his side and an anxious Orami trailing behind.

“Put down your weapons,” Bayal says in perfect Awnian. The soldiers look at Captain Oristel, who gives a tight nod.

They throw down their swords, and the Border Infantry sends up a cheer.

Bayal continues toward us, taking in the sight of Six holding Oristel’s sword and Chass bound between us. Before he reaches us, Orami rushes forward and wraps Six in a fierce hug. Six returns the embrace with one arm, thrusting up an enthusiastic salute with the other. “Your timing is as perfect as always, Captain.”

“I see you’ve taken my orders not to engage the Awnians to heart,” Bayal says.

“It was necessary, sir.”

“I’m sure. Who’s in command here?”

Oristel nods, glowering.

Six releases Orami, who turns and throws his arms around me. I stiffen in surprise, but the hug is quick—Orami leans back with his hands on my shoulders, his face lit up with a brilliant smile. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he says in a gleaming, sky blue voice. “I was worried when I got back and didn’t see any of you by the tunnel.”

Warmth shoots through me, melting away the tension in my muscles. “We’re safe thanks to you,” I answer, returning his smile. The other rangers have approached now, and Orami turns to embrace each of them.

“I am Captain Tiiberial Bayal of the Ieli Border Patrol,” Bayal tells Oristel, accepting his sword from Six. “This fort is now under my control. Direct your men to give up their weapons and line up along the eastern rampart.”

Though he looks like he wants to argue, Oristel turns and flicks his hand toward his men. The Awnians obey wordlessly, casting bewildered glances at Bayal’s men.

Bayal nods and looks to Chass. “Who is this?”

“Tenant Warchass Gryfalkr, sir,” Chass says. He catches my eye and gives a tiny shake of his head before returning his attention to Bayal. I frown. Is he telling me not to mention that we know each other? Or not to worry?

“My second, Vikko, will speak with you,” Bayal says, his eyes following the look that passes between Chass and me. “Six, I leave you in charge of the villagers. Tell them that they are free to go with whatever provisions they need for their journeys. I’ll get your report later. The captain and I have some business to attend to.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Thare,” he adds. “Don’t try to hide that shoulder wound. Somre will be setting up shop in one of these buildings soon, no doubt. Make sure he looks at it.”

Thare nods grimly, one shoulder hitched up and wet with blood. I study what I can see of it from here, but he covers the wound with his other hand and turns away. Captain Bayal dismisses the rest of us with a nod, but he catches my eye as I start to follow the others into the yard. “I will speak to you later as well.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, giving him a clumsy salute. When he turns away, I watch Chass follow Vikko to the captain’s quarters and then hurry to follow Six to the other rangers.

“Still the fastest runner in the unit,” Six beams, throwing his arm around Orami’s shoulders.

“I was sure I was too late,” Orami says, grinning.

“You were perfect,” Six says. He looks the other rangers over, still holding onto Orami. “Anybody hurt?”

“Just Thare,” Iorin says.

Thare grunts. “It’s nothing.”

Six releases Orami and tips up his head, searching for Somre. “Get it looked at, anyway. Then get some rest, all of you. I’ll find you in a little while. Brennr and I have some good news to spread.”

Ynria. I want to shout my name at him, make him say it over and over until “Brennr” is buried in his memory. But I say nothing. After today, that’s all I’ll be—a memory. It’s easier to stay Brennr for now.

Six leads us past the Ielic soldiers, all the way to the back of the line where the villagers wait like sheep without their shepherd. Bronhold stands at their front, wrists bound in the bandages I gave him, neck craned as he searches the fort. When he catches sight of me, he starts forward to meet us.

“Is this everyone?” Six asks, still speaking Awnian.

Bronhold looks back over the gathered villagers and nods. “They had all quarters working. We’re all here.”

“Captain Bayal of the Border Patrol has taken control of this fort,” Six calls, lifting his voice to be heard over the villagers’ muttering. They look at him, and at me standing by his side.

“Traitor,” hisses a Norwikker. “You betrayed us!”

The words cut, but Six goes on as if he hadn’t spoken. “My captain is aware of your situation and hereby releases your from your oaths. You are all free to return to your homes.”

At that, the men go silent. “Return home?” Bronhold says. “Just like that?”

“If you prefer, you may remain here as prisoners,” Six offers.

For a moment they simply stare, but then one steps forward—Greth, who grew up just a few houses from me. “I left a wife back home,” he says. “And my unborn child. If I can return to her, I will.” He tugs the black band off his arm and drops it at his feet.

Another man comes forward. “I have a smith to run,” he says, dropping his own armband beside Greth’s.

“And I a tallow shop,” adds another.

“My wife died last year,” says a third. “I had to leave my children with a neighbor. I’ll not let them be raised as orphans.”

One by one the men come forward, throwing their armbands down and moving to the let the others past. Kjerrin and Bronhold are some of the last, but eventually they, too, give up their bands. Kjerrin hovers over the pile, glancing at me, but Bronhold pushes past Six and reaches out to touch my face. “It really is you,” he says, his voice a muted yellow-brown. I flinch back, and he drops his hand. “I thought maybe I was dreaming... that the pain was making me see things.”

“It’s me,” I say, unsure of how else to answer.

“You came because of Mjera, didn’t you?” he asks. “Brennr was her father’s name. You came in Arun’s place.”

I nod, looking over Bronhold’s shoulder at the villagers, who have swarmed Six with questions of their own.

“And it’s all over now?” Bronhold says. “We can return home?”

“You can, yes.”

He frowns. “What do you mean? You’re coming with, aren’t you?”

I swallow and shake my head. “After everything that’s happened, they’ll never let me just go home.”

“They will,” Bronhold insists. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll make them.”

I give him a smile. “Thank you. But it won’t be so bad. I’ll take what I’ve learned from Fryr Edlan and find another village where I can serve as a healer.”

His eyes are soft and clear, and he looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. “You’re a Wordweaver.”

My heartbeat stutters in my chest. “Yes.”

“You were never going to marry me.”

The last of my hard feelings against him melt away. “No.”

He lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Will you ever come back?”

“Of course,” I say. “Someday. But… maybe not for a while.”

“I will tell your parents that you’re safe,” he says. “That you saved us.”

“I didn’t—”

“I won’t let them say you’re a traitor,” Bronhold interrupts, as adamant as he ever was. “I’ll make sure they know the truth.”

That stuttering feeling is back, as if my heart can’t find its natural rhythm. “Thank you,” I whisper.

Hesitantly, he opens his arms, and after a breath, I step into them and press my cheek to his chest. He wraps me in a warm embrace and sets his chin on top of my head. “I’ll miss you,” he says.

“I’ll miss you, too,” I say, and am surprised to find that I mean it. I wrap my arms around his back and give a small squeeze, and he plants a light kiss against my hair before releasing me.

“Be safe, Ynria.”

He smiles, and it pulls a smile to my own face before I turn away. I hope Six will forgive me for abandoning him to the villagers, but the weight of everything that’s happened sinks through me, and my head throbs with every irregular thump of my heart.

I need to find Somre.

First, I stop in the barracks to see if Edlan’s satchel is there, but my bunk is empty. Hopefully Aze took it with him when he left. Maybe I can talk to Chass and find out where Aze has gone and see if they might let me visit him. If Tyrr told them all I was dead, I’ll have to find a way to get word to him.

Poor Aze. All he wanted was to go on an adventure, and I’ve thoroughly ruined it for him.

I catch a glimpse of Thare ducking into a building I’ve never been inside. The infirmary. If anyone else was injured, Somre will need help with the treatments, so I make my way across the yard and tap on the door to announce my presence before easing it open.

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A row of beds takes up the center of the single room, and one wall is lined with shelves. Thare stands before one of the beds with a scowl, pulling at the bloody fabric on his shoulder. He looks up when I come in and returns his attention to his wound.

“Somre went to get supplies,” he says. “Said there’s nothing worth using here.”

I glance at the sparsely filled shelves and frown, knowing just how useless this room is. “I have some medicine.”

Thare shrugs his good shoulder and eases onto the end of the bed, turning to give me access to the wound. He sits stoically, never flinching as I pull the cloth from his torn skin to study the injury beneath.

“I didn’t see everything that happened,” Thare says, keeping his eyes on the wall. “When the other Wordweaver attacked, you held him off?”

I blink at him, but when he doesn’t look at me, I return my attention to my work. “I tried. I couldn’t stop him.”

“And then you went after him. On your own.”

It isn’t a question, so I don’t answer. I remove the last of my bandages and wipe my fingers on a clean part of the last cloth, looking around for water. Bronhold still has my waterskin.

“You took a risk,” he says.

“I left a message for Six to follow me,” I answer. “There wasn’t any other choice. Someone had to go after him, and the rest of you were busy.”

Thare nods. “You saw a need and you filled it. That’s all any of us can do.” He gives another half shrug and leans on his good arm. “If you want to stay, I will keep your secret.”

I freeze, hand half extended toward a jug of water on the shelf. “What?”

“It’s hard to find a companion you can count on in battle,” he says. “I don’t particularly care what that companion looks like.”

“But...” I stare at him, struggling to speak around the swell of emotion pressing on my chest. “The law says... And Redge would never agree to it.”

“It isn’t up to him,” Thare says. “What do you want to do?”

What do I want? The lump of emotion crawls up my throat, spilling the answer onto my tongue. I don’t want to be a nameless healer that travels through the mountains, wondering what’s happening with the rest of the world. I want to stay with Bayal, a captain who trusts his men and inspires their trust in turn. I want to stay with the healer who can continue to teach me his wealth of knowledge, and I want to be in a position to use it like I am now. I want to stay with the rangers who took Six in, who became a family for each other. I want to be a part of it too.

Thare watches my face as if reading my thoughts, his brown eyes hard and serious. “There you are then,” he says. “When I want something that badly, I don’t let anyone take it away.”

Hope. That’s what this feeling is—hope that I won’t have to be alone again. Hope that I can belong to something bigger than myself—as myself. “I can’t do it on my own,” I say, letting my hand rest on the water jug.

“No one goes into a mission alone. You have backup, if you’ve got the courage to act. That’s up to you.”

Edelweiss for courage. That’s what Somre had said when he gave me the little pressed flower, still tucked carefully in my pocket. Did he know it would come to this? Was he telling me I could stay?

Ieldran, please let it be so. Now that the option has been given to me, I don’t know that I could bear to lose it.

I turn my focus to Thare’s wound, reining in my thoughts as they stray into dangerous territory. Best not let my hope run away with my sense until I can talk to Six. Thare’s support is one thing, but Six is their leader. If he tells me I can stay...

And then there’s the matter of his secret, too.

“It’s a clean cut,” I say, clearing my throat when my voice comes out too thick. “Not as deep as it looks. If I stitch it up, it may not even scar.”

“What’s one more?” Thare asks. I smile, eyeing the raised lines that run across his skin like roads on a map.

“Six said you were already here when he joined the Border Patrol,” I say, dipping a clean cloth into the water to wipe the blood away. “How long have you been a soldier?”

“My whole life. My mother left when I was young, so my father raised me. He and his unit. He served on the border during the Coastal Wars.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” I ask.

His gaze goes to the wall again. “I stayed behind in the camp whenever they went into battle. One day they didn’t come back.”

My fingers still, and I look down at his blank expression with a stir of pity I have a feeling he would hate to see.

“I went out after a few days,” he goes on quietly, his green voice swirled through with muted blues. “Managed to track them through the mountains where they had no business being. I only found out later that King Aquillis ordered them across the border with no support. The whole unit was slaughtered.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

He lifts his good shoulder. “It’s the risk every soldier takes. I stayed there to bury them before the wolves came in, and then I went back into Ieli and worked as a mercenary, waiting for Aquillis to order another invasion, but it never happened. I didn’t last long in most of my contracts. ‘Respect problems,’ they said. I questioned orders I didn’t agree with, and most commanders don’t like that.”

“Until you met Bayal?”

“The captain is different. He never signed me to a contract, said I could leave whenever I wanted and only had to answer to him. The deal suited me, so I stayed. I mostly worked by myself until Six showed up. Then Redge and Iorin joined, and Orami. Now you. An even six. It’s a good number.”

I smile. “I hope the others see it that way.” I search the shelves for a needle, but before I can find one, the door opens and Somre peers in.

“Edelweiss,” he says. “I was hoping I’d find you here. Captain Bayal wants to speak with you.”

Already? I glance at Thare, who meets my gaze and nods. “I was going to sew his wound,” I say.

“I’ll do it,” Somre says, stepping inside. “Bayal won’t wait. You’ll find him in the former captain’s quarters.”

A wave of nerves rocks in my stomach, but I hand over the needle and make my way out of the infirmary. The Awnians are still lined up against the ramparts, though now an Ielic soldier reads directions to them from a length of rolled paper. I don’t see Six or the villagers.

I reach what had been Captain Oristel’s door and give a tentative knock. “Enter,” Bayal calls, and I slowly push open the door and step inside.

He’s alone, limping down the length of the small room with his face drawn in thought. “Close the door,” he says, I obey nervously. “The Awnian Wordweaver isn’t here.”

“What?”

Bayal pauses, leaning heavily on his cane. “He’s gone. He reported your presence to his captain, but disappeared shortly after. Vikko has searched the fort, but can find no trace of him. He’s gone.”

“But…” I shake my head, confused. “Where would he go?”

“Another unit,” Bayal says. “Presumably for reinforcements. Captain Oristel claims he did not send the Wordweaver away, but I’m not sure I believe him. Regardless, it means I no longer have the time I hoped I’d have. Do you know why I’ve called you here?”

Foreboding gnaws at me. “You said you wanted to speak to me before I left.”

“Can you think of no other reason?”

“I—I have no idea,” I say, but I know it’s hopeless. His question caught me by surprise, and the tightening of his eyes tells me he noticed my hesitation.

“There’s no use lying,” he says. “I know everything. The damage is done, but I prefer to hear the truth from your own lips.”

I don’t answer. The hope that had buoyed in my chest just moments ago drains out of me, leaving a hollow that is quickly filled by despair. So much for staying with the rangers, for finding my place at last. To my embarrassment, tears prick at my eyes.

But he asked for honesty, and I’m tired of lies. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

So I tell him. I start with Chass marching into Vallegat and speaking with the fryrs in the Kynstett, my and Mjera’s plan to save Arun, disguising myself the morning the soldiers left. I tell him about our days digging in the tunnel, about not being trained, about Tyrr’s treatment of the villagers. I tell him about Six’s capture and Brayam’s failed Wordweaving during Six’s questioning, finally finishing with our escape. I use feminine words, speaking them with confidence for the first time, amazed at how light they feel on my tongue.

Captain Bayal listens in silence, betraying nothing in his expression. When I finish, he perches on the end of a desk covered with maps and drawings of the tunnel and folds his arms. “You’ve overcome much in such a short time,” he says. “You’ve shown resilience and courage, and I’m sorry I can’t reward it. I am sworn to uphold the king’s word above anything else. Whatever your plans might have been, it is against Ieli’s law for women to serve in the military. Allowing you to remain violates his law.”

“It was always my intention to leave after we took the fort,” I say, forcing my words through a burning throat.

“So it was,” the captain says. “But I’m afraid it isn’t just you I’m talking about.”

His words pierce me, slicing from his mouth like gilded arrows. I’d left out the part about the rangers discovering my gender, hoping he’d found out some other way. “Please…” I rasp. “I’ll take responsibility for my actions, but don’t punish anyone else. They don’t know.”

“Obviously they do, or Redge would not have been able to tell me.”

The confirmation hurts more than I thought it would. How long did Redge wait before he spilled my secret to the captain? Was I even out of sight? Did he bother to make sure no one else was around, or is it being passed around the Ielic soldiers while I await my punishment?

I bury the hurt under another reflexive lie. “Redge found out by accident. No one else knows.”

Captain Bayal lays his palm flat on the table, smoothing it over an early plan of the tunnel. “I know what you risked in coming here,” he says. “And although you have lied to your Awnian commanders and to me, you have helped us a great deal. Without you, we would have had no knowledge of this tunnel or of how to take it, not to mention what would have happened to Six without your intervention.” I clench my teeth, wishing he could end there. But he fixes me with his unyielding gaze, staking me in place as he goes on. “But the law is the law, and I’m afraid I cannot overlook it. You and the rangers are dismissed from the Border Infantry.”

“Captain, please,” I beg, taking a jerking step into the room. “They didn’t—”

“Now on to the next matter,” he goes on, talking over me in a calm voice. I swallow my pleas, waiting, and Bayal folds his arms again. “Yours isn’t the only secret I want to discuss.”

“What?” I breathe.

His gaze settles on the cord visible against my neck. “The Ryvenlock ring, isn’t it?” he says. “I have no idea how you came to have it, but I assume it means you know the truth.”

“But… How did you...?”

“Somre noticed it when you were working with him.”

“He said… I thought no one knew.”

Bayal sighs. “I suspected who Six was the moment we found him. He was very sick, and he called his siblings’ names, among other things, while in the grip of a fever. Somre, Vikko, and I kept him secluded until the fever broke. He seemed to want to disappear into this life and we saw no reason to prevent him from doing so.”

“Then why dismiss him now?” I ask. “He’s safer here. If the Awnians capture him—”

“They would kill him if they knew who he was,” Captain Bayal finishes. “And I have done all I can to keep that from happening, but there’s more to consider than just our wayward prince’s safety.”

I frown, my mind spinning with exhaustion. “I don’t understand.”

“Not everyone is grateful to have the Grand General as Awnia’s new leader,” Bayal says. “One tyrant replaced another, and if our present course continues, war will be inevitable. But if there were another option…”

The realization of what he’s saying crashes over me. If Ambritten continues on as Awnia’s leader, then he will invade Ieli. We may have saved the villagers here in the fort, but what about the soldiers stationed elsewhere? How many of them came from villages just like Vallegat? How many were forced into service against their will?

What if we could stop him?

Bayal takes a deep breath and straightens from the table. “Ambritten must be challenged, and if Awnia is to survive another change in leadership, Six must take control. He’s the only one who will be able to keep the country from fracturing into warring provinces.”

“Then why banish him? He doesn’t stand a chance on his own.”

A steady blue edge sharpens his words. “Even if I had the authority to order an attack on the capital, the forces I command are not strong enough to retake Bresne. To even attempt such a thing, I would need the word of King Aquillis, and that could take months. And there’s a significant chance he would refuse the request simply because I’m the one making it.”

“You can’t order anyone to attack Bresne,” I say slowly, watching his reaction. “But with the rangers dismissed from the unit...”

Bayal taps his fingers on the map. “If a small group of fighters no longer under my command were to go on their own, I could do nothing to stop them. If I were to then find out about the survival of the Ryvenlock heir—after he was on his way to retake the throne, of course—I may be able to convince King Aquillis more quickly that steps should be taken to assist him. Having an Awnian king who was once an Ielic soldier would appeal to him.”

The room tilts around me, and I have to take a long, slow breath before it straightens again. “That’s why you’re dismissing the rangers?”

“I’m dismissing them as punishment for harboring a criminal,” Captain Bayal answers, smiling. “A criminal willing to take risks to do what she believes is right. One who may be powerful enough to aid a reluctant prince in reclaiming his kingdom.”

“But I can’t... we can’t—”

“You haven’t known them long,” Bayal says. “But you shouldn’t underestimate the rangers. Thare has always been a gifted fighter, and Iorin and Redge are some of the finest archers I’ve ever seen. Orami is faster than any man in the infantry, and he isn’t bad with a sword, either. Under Six’s guidance, they’ve become an impressive team. All they lack is a healer—and perhaps a Wordweaver.”

When I can only stare in response, Bayal’s expression softens. “I can’t order you to do this,” he says. “As soon as you leave this fort, you are free to return home or make a new life in Awnia or Ieli or wherever else you’d like to go. But you would make a powerful ally, and I know you want to keep your countrymen safe. Six is our only hope for peace, and you are his best hope for achieving it.”

How can he put this much trust in me? In the rangers? I should argue, should convince him to send more aid, but I know it will do no good. If this is the conclusion he’s reached, it must be the only option.

“Say goodbye to your friends,” Bayal says gently. “I will ensure they have everything they need for their journey home. I expect you and the rangers to be gone by morning.”

“The traitor,” I say. I pause, and Bayal nods his encouragement to continue. “Do you know who it is?”

He searches my face, curiosity bright in his eyes. “No.”

“If you did… what would you do with him?”

A moment passes as he considers his answer. “I would speak to him,” he says at last. “I would want to know his reasons for sending us a warning about the tunnel. Perhaps he would be willing to do more.”

I want to know the same things. If I can meet with Chass, maybe I can convince him to talk to Bayal on his own.

Maybe I can help him the way he’s helped me.

“Can I have permission to speak with one of the Awnian officers?” I ask. I’m being painfully obvious, but based on how much Bayal already knows, he probably suspects Chass anyway. “He was kind to me, and I’d like to thank him before I leave.”

“You may,” Bayal says, his voice a shrewd blue. “The officers are being kept in their rooms, under guard.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

He nods, dismissing me with a short smile. “Get some rest when you finish. And may the Pathkeeper guide your way.”

I pause at the door, taking a steadying breath to stop the room from swaying, and leave the captain to his plans.