The bedroom was empty, a fire crackling in the hearth. Dinner had been served in his absence, left to cool on the low table in the sitting area. Not long ago, he’d sat there with his wife leaning on his shoulder, eating and talking and laughing. Funny how easily he could conjure that mental image, but he didn’t know what to say when he saw her.
Raff waited for an hour, but Thalia didn’t come. Angry all over again, he ate cold food, alone, in great furious bites. He even used the bread to sop up his gravy while glaring at her delicate slices of fruit and cheese. It was beyond him how she could survive on such dainty portions, just another reminder how different they were.
He couldn’t bring himself to put her food out to be returned to the kitchen, though. Probably she’d slide in when she thought he was asleep and she might be hungry then, so he collected his dirty plate and glass and set them out while leaving her meal on the table, still covered by gilded mesh dome to keep nibbling pests away. Too early in the year for insects, but he’d bet good money these walls housed scampering rodents.
To show proper penitence, he stretched out on the couch, though he couldn’t even lay properly. Hours later, Raff woke with a kink in his neck, cussing and aggravated. And his wife still wasn’t back. Stubborn woman. He stomped over to the bed and pulled back the covers, stirring a paper that had tumbled half-beneath the bed.
The words scrawled on the page chilled him to the bone.
26.
Thalia and Ferith drove all night.
Under normal circumstances, they could’ve stopped at a town or settlement to top up the Rover’s energy, but in times like these, it was better to run unseen. People would undoubtedly report strangers passing through, even if they didn’t recognize Thalia. While she wasn’t famous per se, it wouldn’t surprise her if Ruark had put her face on WANTED posters or broadcast her face for bounty-hunting purposes.
When the Rover mini ran out of juice, they left it behind. Knowing where the mines were laid let them travel safely, and the drone guided them away from enemy troop movements. It still could, but progress would be much slower from here on out. They were still a hundred kilometers from their destination and Thalia was weighing the best plan for infiltration.
Luckily, the cold snap had passed, so at least they wouldn’t risk freezing to death on the move. Dawn broke in the distance as Thalia pulled a layer of pine needles and fallen branches over their vehicle. If a passerby got curious about the abandoned Rover, it wouldn’t end well, especially not deep in Gilbraith territory. If she could shift like the Animari, it would make things immeasurably easier. Not only would that make it easier to travel unseen, but she could also sniff for mines and IEDs along the route.
No point in wishing for impossible things.
Plus, she didn’t want to think about the Animari because once that door was open, she might let Raff in, and he would distract her from this mission. Not an option.
“What does the drone say? Did you find us a good route?”
“Define good,” Ferith mumbled.
“Relatively safe. Moving during the day holds some risk, but we can’t stretch this out over a week. Too much caution will get us caught, same as not enough.”
Ferith cocked her head. “Are you telling me, or yourself? Sounds like you’re scared.”
“To death,” Thalia admitted.
“It would be worrisome if you weren’t. This is an all-or-nothing endeavor.”
“I know. Thank you for coming with me.”
As she began to walk, following the path the drone had identified, Ferith nodded. “I’m the last of the old guard. So many Noxblades died getting the two of us here…there’s no way could I stop now, not like Gavriel did.”
That sounded like a judgment. “He had personal reasons for not being able to walk with me any farther.”
The other woman didn’t respond to that, and maybe it didn’t matter if Gavriel had been disloyal. She had wished to have him beside her during this mess, which might’ve been what he wanted—to instill some flicker of regret over his departure—but she’d only wanted his tactical strength, not his emotional support. And that was precisely why she’d cut him loose.
“Stop stating the obvious, and let’s go,” Ferith said.
They walked for ten kilometers, hard hiking cross country, when they spotted an isolated farmstead. According to the map, they were well past the border into Gilbraith territory. There would be no help coming from her own people, if she and Ferith ran into trouble, but they had to gamble here.
The Rambler was old, years out of production, and beaten all to hell. This family probably needed the vehicle to take their produce to the nearest town. I’ll make it right later. Right now, these people were allied with her greatest enemy, even if that support came only in nominal form.
She had all kinds of contingency plans, but the actual theft took no effort at all. They didn’t even need to hack anything; Ferith just hit the start button and they took off, sticking to secondary roads that should take them to Outwater, the town closest to Braithwaite.
This will all be over soon, one way or another.
Much later, Ferith parked the Rambler in a copse of trees. They slept for a few hours, and now, as twilight gathered, they’d walk the last two kilometers to Outwater and figure out the next stage of the plan. Thalia touched her hair uneasily, as it was both a beacon in the twilight and an identifying trait.
Ferith eyed her. “Want me to cut it off?”
Thalia couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken a blade to her hair, but she stifled the instinctive protest, a quiver of affronted vanity that she couldn’t afford.
