“Do you remember how to get there?” My heart pounded. “Maybe you could tell—”

“Oy! Bastiaan!” Sven hollered from across the way. “We’re ready.”

Bastiaan stared at me. “We’d best go.” Though we’d been interrupted, he’d heard my request, I was sure of it.

And he chose not to acknowledge it.

Chapter 20
Myrthe

Acorns coated the forest floor like nature’s cobblestones, hollowed out by wintering squirrels and ready for a coating of snow. As the last of the acorns fell, they hit rocks and branches in their descent, sending sharp cracks of sound through the forest, mimicking the snap of sinister footsteps.

Sven’s inner circle met around a night fire. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected—a table strewn with maps and plans beneath the canvas of a private tent? A group of bearded men ready to give counsel? Whatever it was, I hadn’t expected it to be so . . . informal.

Two other people were present. A woman and man. “This is Hadewyck—” Sven started.

“Hedy.” The woman lifted her chin in greeting. Aside from the fire glow on her skin, she exuded no warmth.

“Are you a Talented?” I asked outright.

Hedy lifted an eyebrow. “No.” There had to be more to her answer. If she was in Sven’s inner circle, she must have some special skill. Sven didn’t surround himself with anyone average.

“Hedy likes to play devil’s advocate.” Sven sounded proud.

“Someone has to.” She spit in the fire.

The man beside her had hair as red as lit coals and was nearly a head shorter than Sven. He raised a hand in greeting. “I’m Kees, the water to the ale in these two.” He jerked a thumb at Sven and Hedy, who grinned. “And Hedy’s big brother. So don’t believe her when she says she can best me.”

Had Sven always known Hedy and Kees? He’d never mentioned them to me, yet they seemed so bonded.

“I am a Talented,” Kees continued. “We met Sven on our return from the Well—he saved our lives, actually. How could we not join the cause?”

Interesting that Kees and Hedy visited the Well of Talents together, yet Hedy didn’t have a Talent and Kees did. Did he intentionally withhold the nature of his Talent, or was that an oversight? I didn’t ask. Sven might not wish for it to be revealed to Bastiaan, who was joining the inner circle only to share his news.

“Bastiaan comes to us for help.” Sven resumed his tone of leadership. “He claims to have news from the schloss.”

Bastiaan wasted no time. “My friend, a boy of ten, was taken prisoner by King Mattias. He’s being held as leverage. The king is hoping to capture me.”

“Who are you, then?” Kees asked.