He mounted Sterk within the hour. Flew across the fields. Through the trees. Thinking of Myrthe and how he’d left her with a young man in power who wanted a wish from her.

He would get her out of that forest, ask forgiveness, and take her to the Well. And maybe—maybe—she’d trust him enough to tell him about her Talent. But that wasn’t his goal. Not this time.

This time he wasn’t seeking more knowledge. He was seeking to be more human. For the first time he thought King Vämbat would truly be proud of him.

Chapter 30
Bastiaan

The camp was gone.

Hardly a charred log or footprint. The area had been so cleared out that Bastiaan thought at first he was in the wrong location. But then he found the hollow tree on the canal bank where he and Myrthe had talked.

They’d left.

He’d lost her. For now. Sven was heading to the Well, but that didn’t guarantee Myrthe would be with him. Sven knew Myrthe was the Wishtress. What might he do to get wishes from her?

With a heavy feeling of missed chances, Bastiaan turned back toward home.

Mother was standing in the doorway when he arrived. She surveyed his face and gave him a sad smile. “There will be other opportunities.”

He stabled Sterk and then knocked the mud from his boots on the cottage threshold. “How’s Runt?”

“Awake and asking for you.”

“Awake?” Bastiaan scrambled to kick off his boots altogether, flung his cloak on the corner of the door, and hurried inside.

Runt lay on a cot beside the cooking hearth. Slow blinks and hollow eyes. He looked so . . . cold despite being weighed down by countless blankets.

“Bastiaan, I’m sorry,” he croaked.

“None of that now.” Bastiaan pulled up a three-legged stool and plopped himself beside Runt so the boy wouldn’t need to lift his head to see him. “How are you feeling?”

“Wretched. You should send me away.”

“Send you away? That’s akin to cutting off my own left arm. There’s nothing you could do to warrant that punishment anyway. Nothing.”

“But I betrayed you.”

Bastiaan had thought maybe Runt wouldn’t want to speak of his time at the schloss. He’d been willing to give his friend plenty of time to rest before asking any questions. “You’re incapable of betrayal.”

“I led them to the forest—”

“On accident.”

“I should have known! I doubled back and checked my tracks. I did everything I normally do. I was certain no one was following me. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone back to the camp.”

“I think the scout had a Talent.” Runt had spent his entire life being invisible and listening. For him to make a slip like that, it must have been Talent or Bane related.

“Really?”

“Yes. See? You did nothing wrong.”

“I . . . but I didn’t trust you.”