“They’ve had him for a month,” Gerald said. “No doubt by now he has told Lord Endrick where he has hidden the Olden Blade. You must stay and secure your place here.”
“If Endrick finds that blade, I have no place here. None of us do.” I practically pushed him through my open door, saying, “Prepare my horse. Harlyn and I will leave at once.”
The journey from Nessel up to Highwyn, where Basil was being held, would ordinarily take a week of easy riding, but if the weather cooperated, and if Harlyn and I rode fast and rested the horses midway, I hoped we could get there in half the time.
That was still too long.
We could get there in a day if we used the Rawkyren. I’d hoped to eventually try flying with it, but I hadn’t yet and didn’t even know if it was possible. For now, we’d have to ride.
According to Tenger’s note, Basil had been sent to the same dungeons beneath Woodcourt where Kestra and I had both spent time. We had found an escape by sliding over a steep ledge into a muddy pit littered with rot and debris. A narrow tunnel provided passage outside Woodcourt’s walls, but it was nearly impossible to find. Basil had followed our route, and must have kept himself alive in ways I didn’t want to fathom, but even after a month in the pit, he still could not find the exit. A few days ago, the dungeon guards had realized he hadn’t actually escaped and recaptured him.
I couldn’t imagine what was happening to him now either. But what I could imagine urged me to ride faster. Basil couldn’t have much life left in him.
Less than an hour after receiving the note, Harlyn and I met in the stables. I mounted my horse with only a scant nod at Harlyn, but she remained in place, clearly with something to say. Already impatient, I looked down at her. “Yes?”
“I would have said no.” Her voice was calm and even. “If you had gone along with Gerald’s plan to propose marriage at the dinner tonight, I would have told you no.” Now she took hold of the reins and climbed into the saddle. With one final glance at me before departing, she said, “When Basil’s rescue is over, I will not return to Nessel. Based on the conversation we overheard, nor should you.”
“Harlyn—” I began, but she was already riding away.
Nothing more was said until a few hours later, when it had become too dark and too cold for travel. Rather than ride up the more commonly traveled border between the Hiplands and Antora, we had cut through the center of Antora, a more direct route to the capital. Our chances of running into Dominion armies were greater, but it would shave at least a half day off our trip, so it was worth the risk.
While we rode, the need to watch for Dominion soldiers was a fine escape from my other troubles, but trouble can only ever be postponed, not outrun. With night falling fast, we found an abandoned home near the road with a small barn for the horses. The Rawkyren had stayed overhead thus far and flew off now, I assumed, to hunt, as it often did at night. Our shelter wasn’t exactly a hiding place, but I hoped any patrols that did happen to pass by would think we belonged here, so there was nothing to investigate.
We warmed a supper over a small fire and then set out our bedrolls in the center of the room, each of us facing the fireplace, absorbed in our own thoughts. My sketching pad was in front of me, but I hadn’t yet made a mark on it.
Finally, just to make conversation, I said, “Did I ever tell you that I can hear the Rawkyren’s thoughts? He wants a name.”
Harlyn smiled. “A name?”
“He doesn’t like being an it.”
She tilted her head, letting her curly black hair fall to one side. “What name did you have in mind?” I shrugged, and she added, “My father is becoming ill. Perhaps in his honor—”
“I respect your father enough that if this Rawkyren turns out to be as evil as Reddengrad believes them to be, I don’t think we ought to borrow your father’s name.”
Harlyn smiled. “You’ve been with this dragon for a month. You’d know if it was going to turn bad.” That brought on an awkward silence between us, which she quickly filled by adding, “What if we simply call him Rawk?” When I agreed, she added, “My father also respects you very much. If he were well enough to still be in command, he never would have tolerated the kind of talk that we heard from the cavalry.”
“No, but now that we’ve heard it, we have to deal with it. You’re under no obligation to return to the Hiplands with me, but I hope you understand that your leaving does nothing for my safety.”
Harlyn nodded. “It was a stupid thing for me to say. Of course I’ll return. I wish …” Her voice trailed off, and when she spoke again, she asked, “If there was no Kestra, would anything be different between us?”
She must have already known my answer, but perhaps she needed to hear it aloud. “Yes, it would be different.”
Now Harlyn’s hand brushed across mine, and she left it there. “Is there any hope of things becoming different … in time?”
I exhaled slowly. The truth was that there was no Kestra anymore, not in reality. Only my memory of her, my wish to have her back, as she was before, as we were before. Harlyn’s hypothetical question wasn’t hypothetical at all. There was no Kestra.
Except there was … somewhere.
Still facing the fire, I said, “Unless I can divide my heart from the rest of me, I do not see how it can happen.”
Harlyn rotated her body to be closer to mine. Surprised by the sudden movement, I looked at her, and in that same instant, she leaned forward and kissed me. My first instinct was to pull away, but I didn’t. At first, it was a single kiss, and that should have been the end of it. But before I could think better of it, I accepted the invitation and kissed her back.
It wasn’t long or overly emotional, and yet my heart was still pounding seconds after the kiss ended. I continued to stare at her, though I didn’t know what I was thinking, if I was thinking.
Harlyn only smiled and pressed her hand flat against my chest. “That is how it happens, Simon. I won’t divide your heart, I’ll simply steal it away.”
With that, she lay down on her bedroll, pulled a blanket up over her shoulders, and closed her eyes to sleep.