“You were shaking for almost an hour afterward, and he could have done worse. Trina dug the tracker out of your neck, but it left a deep scar that we sealed with wax.”
She turned around enough to face me directly, and this time her eyes betrayed a flicker of recognition. If I had reached some part of the real her, then I had to make this moment matter.
“Lord Endrick is an enemy to you, Kes.”
I knew immediately that I’d gone too far and wished for a way to take back my words. She blinked hard, and then she was gone again, or trying to make me think so. “He is your enemy. He is my king and I have to serve him.” She returned for one long look. “No, I want to serve him.”
“With or without your memories, tell me how you can kneel to such an evil man?”
“Please stop.” The intensity of her tone forced my obedience, yet I saw the questions in her eyes, her frustration with not even knowing what to ask to get the answers she needed. And I saw fear.
A fear deep enough to pierce my heart. I didn’t think she was afraid of me, though that was possible. Rather, I thought of how confused her world must be right now. If she did remember anything, who would she trust with that secret? Not me, for reasons I completely understood. Maybe we needed a rest.
After another few minutes, we came to a ridge that was tall enough to hide our horse, should anyone happen by on the trail behind us. Safely behind it, we dismounted, then while I began digging through the various bags attached to the saddle, she sat down, fingering the necklace from Lord Endrick. I wondered again what it really was.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, hoping to distract her. “Did you pack any food in here?”
“Trina packed the bags, and no, I’m not hungry.”
“Good, because we’ll need to stretch our supplies.” I pulled out a pad of pressed papers, which was flipped open to
the top page. Something in its angle against the sunlight caught my eye.
“Why does Trina dislike me?”
“The question isn’t why, it’s how much.” I held the blank page up to the sun, getting the angle just right. I angled it again, then pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing loudly as I did. “Are you sure that Trina packed these bags?”
“That’s what she told me.”
“Then this must be her notepad. I can read the impression of the last note she wrote.”
Kestra leaned forward. “What does it say?”
I wished I didn’t have to answer the way I did. “It was addressed to Commander Mindall, of the Halderians. Instructions for how to find you.”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak. And when she did, she mumbled, “Why?”
I waited until Kestra looked at me again, then said, “That must have been her plan this morning. While the Halderians distracted us, Trina intended to ride you out of Lonetree Camp and turn you over to them herself.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I never thought she’d be capable of that.”
The clopping sound of approaching horses caught my attention and then hers. I took the horse’s reins with one hand, then withdrew my knife before grabbing Kestra with the other, pulling us against the ridge.
“I thought you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“If we’re discovered, I’ll hurt them, and I really don’t want to.” It wasn’t likely to be travelers or traders this deep into the Drybelt. Chances were much higher that it was Coracks tracking us, and possibly friends of mine. Silently, I prayed it wasn’t that.
We waited in that position for less than a minute before the horses started past us on the road. I immediately recognized Wynnow’s voice in conversation.
“… this wasn’t the only way they could have come,” she was saying. “Let’s split up. It does little good for the three of us to be in a single place.”
“I know where Simon will go, and this is their route.” Trina was the second person. “He’d better hope we don’t find him. Tenger is furious.”
“Simon knows the risks,” Gabe said, the third member of their party. “But all he cares about is her.”
Kestra met my eyes and I held her gaze. But she immediately lowered her eyes when Trina said, “I knew his loyalties were already shifting on the first night of our mission. I should’ve forced him out then. This is my fault.”
Their conversation continued, but by then they were out of range. Kestra was clearly upset about something they had said, but I didn’t know why.
In a commanding voice, she asked, “Do you know what that conversation was about?”