Yearning returned. Like calling to like. Only this time there was no lantern-light to sear temptation away. Instead, Viktor clapped his hands over his ears. It helped. But it also meant he didn’t hear the hoof-beats until the rider was almost on him.

Viktor threw himself aside. The horseman galloped past, a dark presence against a black sky, given shape only by Branghall’s distant glow. The horse wheeled about. Viktor tensed for a pounce. Better to die in pursuit of freedom than surrender.

The rider slowed. The juddering pulse of hooves faltered to nothing. A cloak’s folds parted, and lantern-light blazed forth.

“Viktor?” Calenne’s lips parted, torn between laughter and surprise. “I might have known. What in Lumestra’s name are you doing out here?”

Viktor fumbled for a reply and found none. Undergrowth crackled on the slope behind.

Calenne straightened in her saddle and gazed over his head. “Tell me later . . . Unless you’d rather stay here?”

There it was. The smile he’d yearned for and feared never to see again. “No.”

For a moment, Viktor forgot the Dark, forgot the Tyrant Queen drawing near through the trees, and lost himself in that one, unlooked-for moment of perfect joy. Then he swung onto the horse behind Calenne and let her bear him far away.

Sixty-Six

Sixty-Six

The flame shrank back from the gloom of the empty barn. Or perhaps, Viktor allowed, the fault lay not with the fire, but with him, for his own emotions were such a whirl that light and warmth held little of his attention.

Calenne watched him from across the flames with shadowed eyes. She looked . . . different. Leaner. Sharper. It suited her. But beneath the grime, beneath the fraying plaits and weather-stained ribbons tied through her black hair, she remained Calenne more than she did not. As if hardship had peeled away the last shreds of a pampered cocoon to reveal her truth.

All this and more Viktor longed to say, but he instead retreated into practicality.

“Are you certain the fire won’t give us away?” he asked.

“They never come out this far. Not now.”

The weary voice matched Calenne’s appearance. Still unquestionably hers, it was hollowed out by hardship; adrift on a grey ocean with no shore in sight. Viktor couldn’t imagine the lessons she’d learned to change her so, and wished he’d been able to spare her the tutelage.

Calenne poked at the smouldering ash with her dagger. “First couple of days were different. They came marching in from the surrounding villages. Horrible to see. Then the rain stopped and the Dark flooded in. Now they only leave Eskavord with a purpose. Like when an idiot northwealder comes plodding about with an unshielded lantern. You must be special. I’ve not seen Elda beyond the walls since this started.”

Viktor winced. “I suppose that was foolish.”

“You’re lucky I found you.”

“And you’ve been fortunate to stay free.”