“Of course I’m worrying,”I reply, glancing back at Jamie as he stumbles slightly, Calythra steadying him with a gentle hand.“He’s been through hell. I don’t know what kind of life he’s going to have here—or if we’ll ever get him home.”
Solan’s golden eyes meet mine briefly, filled with quiet determination.“He’s strong. And he has you. That’s more than most in this world.”
The thought warms me slightly, but the ball of dread doesn’t entirely dissipate.
Once we reach a particularly dense grove, Shanae orders the prince and Kael to be blindfolded. Kael complies without protest, his calm acceptance once again impressive. Aelith, on the other hand, snarls in irritation but ultimately allows it.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” he mutters as the blindfold is tied around his glowing face.
“Not nearly as much as you think,” I reply dryly, though I don’t bother hiding my smirk, given that the prince can’t see it.
Jamie stays close, his small hand brushing mine occasionally as we move. I squeeze his fingers briefly in reassurance, but my mind is spinning. Aelith’s arrogance aside, the idea of having the queen’s son—even one who’s apparently on the run from her—on the same side could change everything for the rebellion.
Through our bond, I reach out to Solan again.“Do you think this could work? Having him on our side?”
Solan doesn’t respond immediately, his thoughts cautious.“It’s possible. If he’s willing to stand against his mother, hecould be the leverage we need to end the kidnapping and forced servitude of Riftborns.”
The term “servitude” stings, but it’s an undeniable truth. If there’s a chance to change that….
“And if he’s not willing?”I ask.
Solan’s mental voice turns sharp.“Then we’ll find another way. But for now, we focus on getting him—and us—safely to headquarters.”
The sun dips low as we finally approach the hidden rebel base, the dense forest opening into a concealed entrance carved into the side of a cliff. The air is cooler here, the shadows longer.
As we remove the prince’s and Kael’s blindfolds, Aelith glares at me, his bioluminescence flaring faintly. “Is this where you plan to keep me prisoner?” he sneers.
“Relax,” I say with a sigh, not even sure why he’s speaking to me since I’m not in charge of this shitshow. “No one’s keeping anyone prisoner. We’re just trying to figure out what the hell’s going on—and make sure your fated is okay.”
At the mention of his fated, Aelith’s expression tightens, but he doesn’t respond.
We enter the converted bowling alley. The air inside is cool and damp, the faint smell of mildew lingering beneath the metallic tang of supplies and machinery. It’s an odd mix of comfort and chaos, but it’s safer than anything out in the wilds.
The human we found isn’t in the main area. I excuse myself from the group, unable to shake the thought of him lying unconscious. If he’s awake, he’ll need to see another human—someone familiar, or at least not a… well, a monster.
I find him in one of the side rooms, a small infirmary lit by soft, flickering lanterns. He’s still unconscious, his pale face slack against the pillow beneath him. My years as a firefighter have taught me enough first aid to do a basic check, and what I find makes my stomach churn. He’s malnourished, his skindrawn tight over his cheekbones, and his cracked lips scream dehydration.
“Is he stable?” I ask, my voice low to avoid disturbing the quiet.
A creature is working at his side, attaching a drip with deft movements of clawed hands. The creature is squat and hunched with mottled green skin and a trio of beady black eyes. It looks up at me briefly, emitting a low series of clicks.
To my surprise, Solan’s voice echoes in my mind.“She says the human will recover. The drip contains nutrients and rehydration fluids. Someone called Sonny, another human, has been tasked to look out for him.”
I blink at the new information. There are more humans here? My heart picks up a little. I nod at the mottled-skin creature who’s clearly taking good care of the unconscious man. “Thanks.”
She inclines her head slightly, then returns to her work, her focus impeccable.
I leave the infirmary and return to the main area, where Aelith stands, his arms folded, in front of Varek. The leader is leaning casually against the counter of what was once the bowling alley’s snack bar, but his sharp eyes are locked onto the prince like those of a predator sizing up its prey.
Aelith refuses to speak, his entire demeanour a fortress of stubborn silence. But as soon as he sees me, his glowing eyes snap to mine, and his rigid posture softens, just slightly.
“They’re unconscious,” I report, loud enough for everyone to hear, and still holding back the guy’s gender (assuming they identify as male, that is). “But they’re stable for now. Malnourished and dehydrated, but one of the medics is taking care of them. They’ll pull through.”
For a moment, Aelith doesn’t move. Then his shoulders drop a fraction, and the tension in his jaw eases. His relief is palpable even if he’d probably rather die than admit it outright.
Kael, standing a few steps behind him, catches my eye and gives a small nod of approval.
Varek raises a brow, his expression caught somewhere between curiosity and amusement. “So, royal brat, ready to talk now? Or do I need to get more humans to give you updates?”
