“They caught us, Bastiaan. Militairen. I think I let the fire burn too long into the darkness. They took Anouk back to camp—to King Mattias. I don’t know what he’ll do to her. I managed to get away, but they have my horse, which is why it took me so long to get to you—”

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” Weather and woods. This was Bastiaan’s fault. “When was this?”

Runt joined him by the snuffed fire, staring forlornly at the ashes. “A few hours back.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was told to give you this.” He withdrew his fist.

Bastiaan stepped closer to get a better view under the weak morning sun. Runt’s palm was smeared with blood. His own blood.

He thrust the bloody palm at Bastiaan’s face.

Bastiaan reeled backward, narrowly missing a deadly splash of liquid. “Runt . . . what—”

Runt launched himself at Bastiaan with a bloody swipe. This time Bastiaan knocked his arm aside, but the boy scrabbled for purchase, reaching for Bastiaan again and again. One drop would be the end of him.

Bastiaan grabbed Runt’s bony wrist and yanked it away. “For spring’s sake, stop!”

“I have to do this!” Runt cried, tugging against Bastiaan’s hold.

Bastiaan wrapped his legs and arms around the boy, pinning him to his body but holding the bloodied hand as far away from him as he could. They both heaved for breath, the shock of adrenaline still coursing through Bastiaan.

Runt had just tried to kill him. Kill him. “Explain.”

Something wet landed on Bastiaan’s wrist. He flinched away from it. Waited for pain. But then came Runt’s sniffle. It had been a tear. “The king commanded me, Bastiaan.”

“Just like that? A simple com—” Oh.

“I’m his subject! He’s my king! You of all people believe Talents exist to serve the king and the people of the land.”

“Runt . . . it’s your Bane. King Mattias has the power to make you obey.”

Runt stilled.

“Do you understand?”

The boy nodded.

“This isn’t your fault. We’re going to get you to the Well—like I promised—and get you a Talent.” And pray with everything he had that the Talent would defeat the Bane inside Runt.

“When will you actually keep that promise?” Runt asked.

“Today. Now. This very moment.” He could curse himself. If he’d taken Runt and Anouk to the Well first, none of this would’ve happened. “Can I let you go?”

Runt sniffed hard and nodded. “I’m sorry, Bastiaan. So sorry. I didn’t want to.”

“I know.” Bastiaan eased his arms open until Runt fell out of them.

“But loyalty to my king has to come first.” Runt spun, hand splayed, and leaped toward Bastiaan.