Uneasy quiet swept through Maiden’s Hollow. Josiri, hemmed inside a ring of phoenix tabards, at last found he could move, if not speak. His mouth was too thick with failure for that.

Crovan cast the brand aside and shook his head as one waking from a dream – or a nightmare.

“Josiri. Out of regard for your mother, and all you have made possible, you have my protection until dawn.” He rubbed at his brow, his eyes on Josiri but his thoughts elsewhere. “But when the sunlight comes, be far from here.”

Josiri gazed on each of the Vagabond Council in turn. None save Revekah would meet his eyes. Akadra had destroyed him without even lifting a sword. In so doing he’d handed the Southshires to the Hadari.

Without another word, he strode for the circle’s edge. Revekah’s phoenixes marched with him. Only Revekah herself hung back.

“This isn’t over, Crovan.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s a new beginning. For us all.”

Josiri followed the path from Maiden’s Hollow without conscious thought, barely aware of his escort. He was losing everything, inch by inch. First he’d driven Calenne away. Then Anastacia. And now? Now Crovan had all but stolen his birthright and his duty. Worst of all was the lingering suspicion that he’d brought it all on himself.

He’d no way of knowing how far he’d walked when Revekah fell into step alongside. One moment he was alone, and the next she was there.

“Is this true?” she asked.

“No.” He snorted. “Akadra offered me a bargain, but he wanted me to lead Crovan and the others against the Hadari. In exchange, he promised to restore the Southshires’ fortunes.”

“You’re . . .” Revekah broke off and pressed on at a whisper. “You’re joking.”

“I’m many things, but I’m not a jester. And I’m not a traitor. I can’t work with Akadra. I don’t trust his promises any more than Kai Saran’s.”

“Good. I’m glad I don’t have to cut your throat.”

“Thanks,” he said drily. “Why Calenne’s still with Akadra, I couldn’t say. Crovan might be right about her being a hostage.” He’d tried not to think about it being so, for the possibility worried him greatly, but denial served nothing.

Revekah brushed a strand of silver hair back from her brow. “So, your grace. What in Queen’s Ashes do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” said Josiri, unable to keep the bleakness from his voice any longer. For years, life had been defined by a stark choice: fight, or wait to fight another day. Now, it seemed, both choices had been stripped away. The future had become as grey and featureless as the mists of Otherworld. “I don’t know.”

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Five

The patrol returned after nightfall. Some walked, cradling bloody, bandaged limbs. Others were dragged on makeshift biers fashioned from broken spears and torn cloaks.