I thanked the woman for her time and went on my way. The sun sank lower in the sky, its yellow glow cresting over the treetops above. It would be dark soon, and I needed to hurry if I was going to get that mirror.
Chapter Twenty
Ihurried along through the forest, making sure no one saw me as I fled from the festival. By the time I reached Penn’s tent, darkness blanketed the woods, everything still and quiet, only the faint sounds of the festival echoing far in the distance.
I stopped myself before darting out into the clearing, crouching behind a bush and assessing the situation like Shadow had taught me. It would be safer in the trees, up high and out of sight. I reached up, beckoning a branch to lean down, but when it didn’t obey, I remembered all over again how I had no magic. A gaping hole sat where my power had once been. I pounded a fist into the ground in frustration but stopped myself from crying out. This was not the time to fall apart—another lesson I’d learned from Charming, of all people. He’d been teaching me about meditation and mindset, how to mentally prepare for a scary or hard situation. I took a few calming breaths like he taught me and focused my mind on my goal. Get that mirror. I envisioned myself finding it, holding it in my hands, and walking out of that tent with it secure in my possession.
A tree branch hung high over me, a thick one, perfect for climbing. I still didn’t have the strength to pull myself up onto abranch, but Hammer had taught me other ways to climb a tree. I crept over to the thick trunk and dug my foot into a groove, then slowly worked my way up. I wasn’t fast, not like Shadow or Lightning might be, but this was an improvement over my tree-climbing skills when I’d first arrived, which could be described as non-existent. I reached the branch and climbed onto it, losing my balance but catching myself before I fell to the ground. From up here, I could see the empty clearing. No one in sight, no one to see what I was about to do.
I wanted to be worthy of my people, a better ruler than my father, than my stepmother, had been. I wanted to foster trust and respect, and this felt like the wrong way to go about that, but I didn’t see any other options.
Technically, I was returning the mirror to its owner. As long as she’d be willing to bargain with me, that was. I took a deep breath and launched myself to another branch, jumping from tree to tree until I was directly over the tent. I took a minute to catch my breath, heart hammering at the exertion. I almost wished Hammer were here to see me. He’d be hooting and hollering at what I’d just done, what we’d spent weeks practicing. He’d never admit it, but I knew I was growing on the grump. He was growing on me too. They all were. I peered down at the tent, which glowed in the moonlight.
It didn’t matter.
We lived in two different worlds, and I was going to be leaving their world behind very soon.
I dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch, and crept toward the tent. Slivers of moonlight sliced through the inside, granting just enough light that I could see the dim outline of the table, the map of Mosswood Forest, the chest tucked into the corner. Here went nothing.
I tiptoed across the space and lowered myself in front of the chest. It opened with a creak. Shirts, trousers, belts filled theinside, each one as plain as Penn. No, that wasn’t true. I could describe Penn in many ways, but plain wouldn’t be one of them.
But blood and earth, this man’s wardrobe was so boring. I couldn’t imagine him in the earth court, dressed in the silk and finery that many of the men wore. An image penetrated my thoughts: Penn stripping off his shirt, his trousers, standing in this tent naked as moonlight illuminated his pale skin, his hard muscles. I snapped the chest closed and banished that picture from my mind.
The mirror. I needed to find the mirror.
I spent the next thirty minutes turning over every inch of the tent: the rug, the bedroll, a small chest of drawers, a few sacks. Nothing. Neither the satchel nor the mirror were here.
Disappointment welled in me. Of course it wasn’t here. He was the king of thieves. He wasn’t going to keep his most valued possessions unguarded in this tent. I should’ve guessed he’d hide it better than this. Now it was too late. Tomorrow morning we’d leave, and that would be my best chance at escape, possibly my only chance. I couldn’t waste more time here than I already had.
Voices rang out in the clearing, and my pulse spiked hard. I needed to get out of here. I quickly put everything back in its place and fled through the back flap of the tent, escaping right as two shadows appeared in the entryway. I steadied my breathing and flattened myself against a tree, hoping I’d hid myself better this time than I had previously.
“Penn, are you sure this is worth it?” Wayfinder asked from inside the tent. “The Huntsman is dangerous.”
“Exactly.” Penn lit a candle, illuminating their outlines through the tent walls. “His presence puts our people at risk.”
“Her presence puts our people at risk. Release her, let her go to her betrothed like she wants, and let’s focus on the bigger goal.”
“No.” Penn’s voice was rough, like the sharp snap of a twig.
“Think what we could do with that mirror,” Wayfinder said. “We could finally defeat the queen and open the border that King Thamos closed?—”
“I will never use that mirror.”
The depth of emotion in Penn’s voice took me aback. He was normally so stoic and unruffled, but something about using that mirror made him angry.
Then Wayfinder’s words sank in:The border that King Thamos closed.
That couldn’t be right. The mountain dwellers were the ones who closed the border between Mosswood Forest and Elwen. Not my father. Wayfinder was lying, confused, something. Anything.
But in my heart, I knew that didn’t make sense, not along with everything else I’d heard since I arrived here. Wayfinder was alone with Penn right now—no reason to lie about something like that.
I could hear Wayfinder’s sigh of disappointment.
“I’m working to free us all,” Penn said.
“But you’re doing it for the wrong reasons, in the wrong way.”
“Because of her?” Bitterness tinged Penn’s voice.
