Part of me agrees with Rowan. I want to be out there looking for the cure. But I trust my commander. Going out in the rain without the proper gear wouldn’t be the wisest choice right now. With one last look at Ro sulking in the corner, I close my eyes. Without the glaring sounds and constant motions, it was possible that we’d get some actual rest here, as opposed to the bursts of sleep on the train.

Hours later, with the same light unchanged as the rain continues to fall, the sound of steps on the floor below wakes me. A shiver dances across my skin. I sit up, my hand going to my axe.

Then, with a laugh that is equal parts exasperation and affection, I realize that both Rowan and my cloak are gone.

22

ROWAN

“You withstood four years of training,” I mutter to myself. “You can get past a little rain.”

Thank the skies Callen always has good cloaks—the expensive, well-made kind a general’s son would be expected to have. Seth will have my head for leaving, but if I can come back with the cure, then he will have to forgive me.

The ground slopes downward toward the beach. A flash of inky black slips in and out of the waves. I watch the seal for a moment, missing the freedom of the skies that it finds in the ocean. A sound like a shout carries in the wind, and my hands go to my knives. Behind me, a figure running toward me, noticeably lacking a cloak.

“What the skies are you doing?” Callen says when he gets close.

“Searching,” I say. “Tabrol doesn’t have time for us to warm ourselves.”

Callen pushes a slick lock of hair from his eyes, blinking rapidly as the droplets keep hitting his brow. “You know if you’d just said ‘food’ or ‘better shelter,’ I wouldn’t be as inclined to report you for insubordination.”

I shrug, like, Fine. “I’m looking for food or better shelter.”

“Rowan.”

“Callen,” I return with the same tone. A shiver races down my back. “What?”

“Any warrior worth their keep would know it’s foolish to go out like this.”

“Like how?”

“Unprepared. Against orders,” he returns, blinking out rain. “What are you going to do if Sethran wakes up and finds you gone?”

I shrug, my chest aching.

“What is it?” he says.

It’s just us. Just us. I can’t lie to Callen.

“The sentinels never sent warriors-elect.” Rain batters my cheeks, my hair, my very bones. “I deserted, Callen. But I didn’t mean to.”

“How did you not mean to?”

“Let’s keep walking, and I’ll tell you.”