“For a minute, all they did was tread water. They were these wide-eyed boys and girls not ready to believe the world was that cruel, but all it took was one. One boy to realize this was the only way he would live. In an instant, they went from working together to escape, to trying to kill one another.” His voice grew hard again. “Two of them survived.”

She couldn’t look at him. She filled her eyes with the sun and with the blurring field of cherry trees. Her lips were cold and numb. The kiss that had warmed them moments ago was a distant memory. Part of her past now. The Oran she had kissed was not the boy standing next to her. He was changed and so was she, and she didn’t know if they would ever fit together again.

She held him in her memory: The boy who’d saved her best friend, the boy with tree rings in his eyes, the boy who watched her with such hope, and such admiration. The boy she’d slowly come to trust. She still trusted him, that had not changed, but everything else had.

“That was what made me a Fiveson, Caledonia. And it was only the first thing that distinguished me as the Steelhand. After that, Aric wanted more.” He paused. “And I gave it to him.”

Warm tears slipped down her own cheeks, falling silently to the ground, and she let them. They weren’t for her. They were for the children who had died to make a point, and they were for the child who had killed them for the same.

Without another word, she turned and left the hill, letting the dark trees of the forest wall her in.

Chapter Forty-five

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Put it from your mind, Caledonia urged herself as she rushed back through the woods toward camp. There were far more pressing things to consider, and she felt selfish for letting herself wallow over Oran’s past deeds.

She had an army to train and a war to plan. She shouldn’t let herself be distracted by her feelings for Oran.

She was so lost in her brooding thoughts that she didn’t see the approaching figure until she’d collided with him. Hands landed on her arms to keep her upright, and she heard Pine’s voice calling her “seagirl” with amusement.

Then, suddenly, he wasn’t amused.

“What’s happened?” He ducked his head to gaze fully into her face, dark eyes tracing the tears on her cheeks. “The Steelhand,” he growled, moving toward the wooded path.

“Do not call him that,” Caledonia answered quickly, putting a hand on Pine’s arm. The last thing she needed was Pine, or any of the Blades, thinking Oran had done something to her. “And anything that happens between him and me is my business.”