Finnikin of the Rock

'You humble me, Evanjalin,' Perri muttered, and then he was on his feet. 'Let's go get our boy.'

They made their way to the tree where Evanjalin had spent the night and day hiding.

'Stay,' Perri said, disappearing up into its branches.

Trevanion took charge. 'Perri and I go over the wall. Finn and Lucian, you climb the tree and cover us. The moment you see that Froi is safe, shoot anything that moves. The moment he's outside the walls of the courtyard, you run at the speed of the gods. Evanjalin, you stay here on the ground.' She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her. 'You stay here on the ground.'

Perri dropped quietly in front of them.

'Three guards and one dog tied up?' Trevanion asked.

Perri shook his head. 'It's not a dog,' he said flatly, and then he and Trevanion were gone.

'Stay,' Finnikin repeated to Evanjalin before he scrambled up the tree with Lucian and straddled a branch that gave him a good vantage point and room to move with his bow. He watched Perri and Trevanion scale the wall of the barracks, glance down for a moment, and then disappear over the side. The courtyard was lit with oil lamps, which made it easy to see what was taking place within. Finnikin realized why Trevanion wanted Evanjalin to stay on the ground as soon as he saw the quick movement of a blade against the throat of the first soldier. So effortless. So cold in its execution. Soldiers kill, he reminded himself. It's what they are trained to do. He wondered what was going through his father's and Perri's minds. Was it satisfaction? Did it soothe their blood or make them sick to the stomach?

'Three down. Too easy,' Lucian whispered. 'Perri is untying the boy she mistook for a dog. Why is your father going inside the barracks?'

Because his father was a soldier, Finnikin thought, and his blood ran hot with the need to avenge every one of their exiles who had died by the sword.

'Don't ask questions. The moment Perri's out with Froi, jump and take Evanjalin. I'll cover the barracks until Trevanion's out.'

'That's not what they said,' Lucian hissed. 'The moment Perri's out with the boy, we both run. I don't go without you.'

Finnikin kept his aim on the entrance of the barracks. 'Would you follow their orders if Saro was in there?'

Lucian muttered a curse, and they watched as Perri lifted Froi in his arms and raced to the gates.

'They're out!' Lucian began scrambling down the tree. With relief, Finnikin saw his father emerge from the entrance. Whatever Trevanion had done, it had been silent, for nobody followed.

Finnikin waited for his father to leave the courtyard. Waited... waited... waited...and then Trevanion was out and Finnikin climbed down, leaping from the last branch to the ground, and fell at Evanjalin's feet. The three of them grabbed at each other and sprinted through the woods. They were barely aware of Perri's approach, and then Trevanion was upon them and they ran, their boots pounding the earth, their blood pounding in their brains, needing to breathe, needing to get to the river with Froi in their arms and Evanjalin between them. To take them home.

When they had crossed to the Osterian side of the river, they stopped for a moment.

'Sagrami,' Perri cursed, dropping to his knees with Froi still in his arms. Finnikin watched Lucian flinch when he saw what the soldiers had done to Froi's face.

'My father has alerted the Osterian soldiers, so I doubt the Charynites will cross, but I know a place to stop and rest before we get to the foothills,' Lucian said.

They followed the Mont through the cluster of trees. As Finnikin had suspected, he knew his territory and navigated easily through the wooded gully. Before long, he stopped at an overhanging rock and they crawled underneath it.

'Froi, speak,' Evanjalin said firmly.

He seemed to croak. His face was a mass of bruises, and blood was caked around his nose and mouth and ears.

'You never do anything stupid like that again,' she whispered with fury. 'You could have been killed, you idiot boy. It's part of your bond that I give instructions, not you.'

Froi mumbled, and Perri leaned closer to listen. 'That's very rude, Froi. And quite impossible for her to do with a bond.'

Finnikin and Lucian laughed in relief. Trevanion reached out to Evanjalin and pressed something into her hand. She stared at it for a long while before looking up at him. The ring.

'I lied about it, you know,' she said quietly.

'Why, Evanjalin, I can't believe you would ever tell a lie,' Trevanion said, almost smiling.

She smiled for him. 'It was in the exile camp, more than two years ago. I was watching a card game. There was a thief there, full of remorse now that the king was dead. He had stolen the ring one day while the king and queen and their children traveled from the Mountains to the Flatlands, years before the days of the unspeakable. But despite the remorse, there was a boast in his voice. So I challenged him to a game of cards. The winner kept the ring. I was fifteen years old and a girl, so nobody took me seriously and they let me join.'

'What did you have to offer?' Finnikin asked.

'I had been there for almost a year, and each night I would watch one of the women bury twenty silver pieces in a pouch near the trunk of a tree. So I borrowed it for the night.'

They heard Froi snort. 'And I'm s'pposed to be the feef.'

'Wouldn't you have felt guilty if you lost?' Lucian asked.

'I knew I would win,' she said pragmatically.

'But—'

'Lucian,' Finnikin warned. 'Trust me. Her gambles pay off.'

'But you did return the twenty silver pieces?' Lucian pushed.

'No,' she said, shaking her head.

Lucian looked disappointed. Monts weren't thieves. It was the worst thing to be accused of.

'I didn't have time,' she said quietly. 'The next morning, a group of Sarnak hunters surrounded our camp.'

Lucian swallowed. 'Sarnak? My father and a few of his men traveled there, once we heard. To see if there was anyone left alive.'

'That night, I walked through the sleep of Lady Beatriss,' Evanjalin continued. 'She dreamed of the cloister of Lagrami in Sendecane, and I knew it was a sign that I should go there. That after eight years I should stop traveling from one kingdom to another. I was tired and sick at heart, and for the first time since I was eight, I lost hope. But in the cloister of Lagrami, Finnikin came searching for me.'

'Because the priestess sent a messenger,' Finnikin said. 'The messenger woke me and whispered Balthazar's name.'

She shook her head. 'There was no messenger, Finnikin. Someone whispered your name to me in my sleep. Telling me you would come. I told the High Priestess, 'Finnikin of the Rock will come for me.' To guide me.' Evanjalin smiled, and it was a look of pure joy. 'To my people.'

'Let's keep moving,' Perri said.

Finnikin grabbed his father's arm as the others ran ahead. 'She's wrong. It was a messenger,' he said forcefully. 'I know it was. I remember it well. I remember because I was dreaming of Beatriss and I was angry to be woken from such a dream.'

'What were you dreaming?' Trevanion asked.

'That you placed your babe in Beatriss's arms and she held her to the breast, feeding her with so much love, and that... that...' Finnikin felt stunned, remembering things he had long forgotten.

Trevanion stopped, gripping his wrist. 'Tell me more.' It was almost a plea.

'Beatriss had the child to her breast,' Finnikin went on, 'and you were teasing her about the cloister of Lagrami, and Beatriss said, 'Little Finch, what say you? Will we give her to the cloister of Lagrami to keep her safe? As you pledged? As you pledged?' She kept repeating it.' Finnikin shook his head, trying to make sense of his thoughts. 'And now it seems that Evanjalin or Beatriss or someone else called me to the cloister of Lagrami in Sendecane that night.'