And now they were here to practice their betrayal. Johnis already knew what he would do, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince himself that the feeble plan had any hope of working.

Martyn, the Horde general who Johnis thought might have once been a member of the Guard himself, had planned this entire betrayal out with careful forethought.

He knew that Johnis was chosen.

That Thomas would follow the Chosen One.

That something as simple as his mother’s ring would set everything in motion.

That Johnis would risk his life for his mother.

That the only way to be sure Thomas would be taken was to isolate him from his horse and lake water without any hope of help.

That a cloak and a dagger could sometimes do more harm than an entire Horde army.

He’d used Jackov as a matter of convenience, but Johnis, not Jackov, was the centerpiece of this plot to destroy Thomas.

He’d searched for a way to slip the word to Thomas that trickery was underfoot, but the risk to his mother and Silvie was too great. There were spies about, watching, ready to send word to kill Rosa and Silvie the moment anything changed from the plan. According to Martyn, that word could be sent by signals across the dunes, flashed on polished metal during the day and torches by night. They would know of any foul play within half a day.

Johnis took a deep breath and said what he’d waited a full day to say. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to do it.”

Jackov looked at him, unconcerned. “I don’t care if you do or don’t. If you don’t, I will.”

“Thomas won’t follow you.”

Jackov twisted angrily. “I’m not nothing!”

“No, you’re a snake, and he knows it.”

“You’ll do it,” Jackov said.

“No, I won’t. You know as well as I that the wicked priest Witch will kill my mother either way.”

Jackov remained fixed on the trees ahead, and Johnis knew he was right. A lump rose in his throat.

“And there’s almost no chance I’m going to survive more than a few days.”

Still no response. This was all part of their plan.

“So I won’t do it unless you let me speak to Kiella, my sister. I would rather speak to my father because he’s undoubtedly worried sick, but I know you’d never allow that. I have to tell Kiella that she will be okay and that her mother is alive. If you don’t let me do that, I won’t help you.”

“Fine, I’ll let you speak to Kiella. In my presence.”

“Alone,” Johnis said.

“You take me for an imbecile? Martyn was specific. We can’t let you walk around the forests raising havoc or trying to slip a message in secretly.”