You may ask questions, but do not expect answers from me.

“I would never expect anything from a Stav who is trained to strike down the defenseless.”

Roark shifted abruptly, drawing closer, and I took a step back like a creature who spotted a trap. He paused, taking in the sudden stiffness of my stance. The Sentry dragged a hand through his loose hair and frowned, as though his patience for me was taxing.

With one hand he made small gestures, most motions Emi had taught me. Remain beside me.

He let the two fists he’d slid side by side fall when he finished.

I narrowed my gaze. “Where else am I to go?”

Roark patted his chest with more force, adding firmness to his words. Next, crossed wrists—danger—but I could not follow the rest.

“Wait.” I held out a hand. “Slow down.”

A low sort of growl rumbled in his throat. Flicking one hand in the air, Roark snatched back the parchment. Jaw tight, he penned his thoughts.

You are under my charge until you are securely within Stonegate and afforded the king’s protection. You already know there are many who despise melders and would see your head piked on a wall.

I read over his shoulder, interjecting like he was speaking the words out loud. “How would anyone even know we’ve arrived?”

The charcoal stick stilled in his hand for a breath. Word travels fast when tensions are high. Folk are always looking for a way to King Damir. With our prince’s betrothal, it is made worse. Stay close to me.

Once I finished reading, I leaned my elbows onto the rail. “Stonegate has now imprisoned the only person I consider my family. You think I trust that Kael will not be killed? I assure you, I might welcome Salur rather than take what the king calls protection.”

Roark frowned, flipped the parchment over, and added more to his missive.

If you think Darkwin’s fate is the worst that can happen, then you have never met the blades of the Draven Dark Watch or their assassin’s ravagers.

Sweat dampened my palms. “You say this, but you are Draven.”

Roark stiffened, but hurriedly added another line. All the more reason to trust what I say.

“I will never trust what you say.” The words came out soft, unintended, but there all the same. A poison between us.

With the charcoal still staining his fingers, Roark spoke with his hands, slow and direct, so I would catch each silent word. Then you will likely die.

I shrugged one shoulder and leaned onto my elbows on the rail. “The threat is meaningless, Sentry Ashwood. I’m certain, no matter what I do, it won’t be long until I die anyway.”

11

Lyra

The ships docked on a curved, pebbled shore.