“No. It would be anyone. Lorcan is…he’s always a special case. Rules never seem to apply to him.” I sighed and stroked Tovian’s upper arm. He squeezed me closer to his side.
“Can’t wait to meet him,” he says tightly. My stomach sinks.
November
Chapter 18
“What do you mean, he went south?”
My voice rises with each word. Onsouth, it cracks.
“Look, I don’t like it either. But we can’t control him.”
I plop unceremoniously onto the stone parapet. Cold seeps through my skirt into my bottom.
“Lorcan is Zosia’s personal knight. His first priority should be finding her!”
“I know that, Raina. I’ve tried everything I can think of. He doesn’t remember her.” Saskaya’s irritation is commensurate with her despondence.
“But he does! He remembers things from school.”
Is he lying? Brain-damaged? Definitely brain-damaged.
“He only remembers the bad parts,” Saskaya says wearily. “I showed him the pictures you sent. I told him everything you said about their last night together. How Zosia ran off to try and buy you time to get him to safety.”
“And?”
“He doesn’t believe me.”
A long silence passes. I picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. I pinch mine, then stare up at the blue sky overhead. It’s a clear fall day. “Would he believe me, if I tried telling him?”
Stupid question. I’ve already done that. It didn’t work.
“Probably not.”
Saskaya has never been one to sugarcoat the ugly truth.
“Where is he?”
My turn to sound weary.
“I think he’s a little south of Canavale. He liberated a village that had been taken over by Skía. Spent two days planning it.” She huffs with begrudging respect. “Got most of the pirates into a firetrap of a building and lit it up.”
I gasped.
The Lorcan I knew wasn’t cruel enough to burn people alive. But haven’t we all done things during this war that we never want to think about again? I sure have.
I close my eyes and saw the face of the dying man who I refused to give morphine. I could have helped him. I chose not to relieve his suffering.
I, too, have become hard-hearted.
His was always guarded. Lorcan’s stoicism led people to believe he didn’t have feelings. He was remarkably adept at tuning them out, but they were there, simmering beneath the surface.
Now, it seems the dam has burst. I ache for my old friend.
“At least they’re dead,” I say softly. Lorcan wouldn’t have left anyone alive.
“That’s how I feel, too. Look, if Zosia and her father are in that castle, they’re safe. Nothing can get in. The kitchens are well-stocked. The storerooms have enough supplies for hundreds of people to survive an entire year. We can afford to let Lorcan do whatever it is he thinks he’s doing.”
