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to me,” I vow, Windwalker magic stirring in my veins as my emotions swirl with my conviction. “I am a citizen of Déchets, but I do not belong there. Cassè has been my home, but I don’t really fit here either. Wherever the Ddraigs are is the place where I truly belong, and I will live and die to protect it.”

“Your mother would be proud,” a foreign voice hisses through the darkness of the cavern, a pair of yellowish green eyes glowing to life in the darkest corner of the space. “Shall we put your convictions to the test?”

Chapter 6

“Not so hard!” Helena growls, shoving at the doctor’s hands as he prods her ribs. “Look, I realize it’s the night before the big test, but I’ve had enough healers, and I see no reason to bring in a doctor!”

“It’s the standard procedure,” Ithel explains once more, clenching his jaw to keep from lashing out at Helena’s persistent objections. “Alaric wants—”

“I know, I know! You’ve told me a hundred times already,” Helena snaps, rolling her eyes as she turns her head away from the doctor, unable to look at his familiar face. “The king wants a doctor to declare that I am medically cleared for this impossible task he’s put before me. Never mind the fact that nobody has ever survived the cursed thing.”

“Don’t think about that,” Ithel snipes, tossing a towel at my face.

But why did he have to send in Pryce? Helena laments, turning her eyes back to the aged physician sitting on a stool in front of her, calmly listening to her bickering. His hair is whiter than it used to be, and the grooves in his forehead look a little more etched and defined, but other than that, the years have been good to you, old friend. A lump swells in Helena’s throat as she waits for Pryce to begin his examination.

“I’d recognize that voice anywhere.” Pryce leans forward, his fingers roaming across Helena’s face, mapping out her features for his blind eyes. “The king finally came to his senses then, Helena? Why have you waited so long to send for me?”

“Not exactly,” Ithel interrupts, dropping a chair beside the bed, the metal legs clacking hard against the marble floor. “She’s got to run the tunnel to earn her freedom, Pryce. You’ve just got to say she’s fit enough for the job.”

“Even though I’ll probably die in the first two minutes of the trial,” Helena snorts, bitter gorge rising in her throat when she forces herself to acknowledge the truth of her words.

“Still doubting your trainer, I see,” Ithel muses from his perch, crossing his arms as he mutters, “I’ve prepared you for the run, Helena. If anyone stands a chance at surviving, it’s you.”

“And you are still faithful at her side, Ithel. Some things are as steady as the sunrise,” Pryce muses as he projects small slivers of energy into Helena’s hands and feet. After a few more pokes and prods, Pryce nods his head once and announces, “Everything appears fine to me. Your bruises will heal on their own, and they aren’t too severe to cause you any discomfort. Ithel is taking it easy with you, it seems.”

“Hardly,” Helena bellows, her heart breaking as she watches Pryce’s face light up with his knowing smile. It is the same smile she recalls shining on his face when he told her she was going to have a child all those years ago. He’d been so excited to share the news with her, so thrilled that the border guards’ barracks would “soon hear the cry of a wee babe.” Look how good that turned out. Helena crumples as she recalls this bittersweet memory, cursing Alaric once more for sending Pryce to her bedside today. No doubt the king purposely orchestrated this moment to rattle Helena’s already shaky nerves.

“Yes, I’d say I’ve been making Helena’s life comfortable and easy,” Ithel jibes, the only sign of mischief in the glittering of his eyes.

Helena’s colorful curses rattle the glass in the windows. Pryce totters off in a fit of laughter, his footing sure despite his blindness. Thankfully, he had enough sense to refrain from asking about the child, Helena thinks to herself, breathing a sigh of relief. I don’t think I’m ready to tell Ithel that part of my story just yet.

The silence lengthens, growing awkward and stale as Helena and Ithel sit in the empty infirmary, waiting for the dawn. Uncomfortable in the emptiness, Ithel shifts in his chair, his cloak draping over his lap as he finds a comfortable position. “Lay back on that table and get some sleep, Helena. We rise before the sun.”

“I need to say this,” Helena responds, pushing herself to sit on the edge of the small frame of her bed so she can look at her guard while she speaks. “My leaving the border guards and hiding in Cassè was never about you.” Helena clears her throat, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I wasn’t trying to leave you—”

“Helena,” Ithel growls, a hand covering his eyes. “Not now, please.”

“I just could not stand it anymore. Alaric’s corruption and the vileness of his court was more than I could bear. I came out to the border lands in search of truth.” Helena’s chin wobbles, her resolve weakening even as a cold, despising glare shines in Ithel’s eyes. “And instead, I found you.”

“So, I wasn’t enough for you then?” Ithel snaps, gripping the arms of the chair to keep from lashing out at Helena. “That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? You found me, but I wasn’t enough for you. You still had to run off into that land, into another man’s arms.”

“I had to see for myself what was in Cassè. The border stations still weren’t close enough to fully understand the country over the Devil’s Spine,” Helena replies, rubbing her fingers together to comfort herself as she waits for Ithel to respond. “I just had to be sure that attacking the people in Cassè was

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