“I know, I’m sorry. They burned everything, but we had to get out of there,” I rush, desperate for our saviour to forgive me. I notice the others have all slipped into silence and look onwards as we walk, refusing to make eye contact with the starved boy. They all knew as well, although I doubt Damion cares, it is my treachery that will have kindled the blaze in his heart. “We needed-”
“Don’t talk to me,” Damion interrupts, silencing my attempts. He loses stride with me and falls to the back of the group, but not before a slight sob escapes his lips.
Guilt rips my conscience to shreds as I watch him stray behind. He needs time, I can at least give him that.
“We need to figure out how to get the others,” Orrian says, banishing the awkward silence that has already begun to settle. I am thankful for the certainty in his tone, there’s not a chance that I would leave my mother in that place.
“Absolutely,” Horas chips in. He casts his vote as if challenging anyone to get in the way of him retrieving his twin sister. The others all murmur their agreement, all except Damion who remains silent. He may be too lost in his own thoughts to have heard the young king, although even if he did, after everything he’s been through none of us could blame him for not volunteering to go back to that place.
“But what about now?” asks Damaris, she sounds desperate for a plan, any solid destination to journey towards whether physical or else. “I take it we’re going back to the mountain first?”
“I can’t,” I say quickly, causing all heads to turn in my direction. “I need to see my sister.”
“I can’t either,” states Damion from behind, surprising everyone. His voice is thick with emotion. “It’s about time I go back to my parents.”
I had completely forgotten, Damion has no idea about what happened to his family after he was taken. How would he know about his mother’s suicide? Or Bennie’s descent into drunkenness? An internal war rages inside me over if it’s my place to tell him, particularly considering the last few minutes. He needs to know, but I’m not sure I can tell him, not now.
“No, no way,” Orrian cuts in, ensuring my silence. “We need to stay together, we go to the mountain.”
“If we’re going to take our people back, we’re going to need all of us. That means my people, your people, the other villages. Besides, it would be a lot better for us to go to Tarrin and tell them you’re coming before you all just arrive at their doorstep,” I say, fired up for the debate that I’m sure is about to come. I also hope that after everything we’ve been through together, the formalities we’re expected to show the young king have lessened. Otherwise, I have just outright gone against an order.
“He’s right,” Jaq says quietly.
“What?” Orrian asks incredulously. I can’t blame him, Jaq has always been obediently at his side before.
“We’re going to need everyone, and you should go with them,” says Jaq. “It’s time for you to be a king again, you need to talk to these people. Why should they join us in a war if they don’t even know who we are?”
“But the children?” Orrian starts weakly.
“Will be fine,” Jaq reassures his king. “some of us go to them, and some of us go to the village. We’ll be ok, you need to go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Orrian has continued to push the four of us at a blistering pace after separating from the other group over a day ago. Our final member of the team turned out to be Damaris after she insisted to personally helping to protect her king. Damion still hasn’t uttered a single word to me. I constantly fight the urge to explain myself and force myself to give him the space he needs.
I had left Jaq with some vague directions for getting to Tarrin for when the time comes to fight. I am sure the route I described cannot be the quickest as the first section of it involves reversing our path all the way back to Avlym, but hopefully it should be enough. The last time I visited Tarrin was well over a couple of years ago and whilst I can inform him of several landmarks along his course, he may have to search for them a little.
Orrian has been driving us through the day and night to get here. At first, we were trying to keep an idea of where the main tracks were that the cart had taken and were working back from there. Although as soon as the first night fell, Orrian and Damaris managed to keep us on course using the stars. They use odd names as they point upwards at the sky, speaking of imaginary figures and objects. They both separately try to explain it to me, attempting to draw these invisible links through the night’s sky, but eventually they are forced to resign in their efforts and I leave them to it.
Two and a half days after burying Thyon, we finally find civilization. Horse trots come from somewhere up above and fearing the colony, we drop to the ground. An old merchant with his cart crosses in front of us behind distant trees, not a single sword or breastplate in sight.
We rise, wary but relieved. It turns out that the man travels on a marked path, one that I faintly recognise. They may have been slow about it, but the gods have finally gifted us with some fortune, within the next hour the village comes into sight. As soon as the first of the rooftops appear through the trees, I can’t help myself. Deaf to Orrian’s warnings that we need to be cautious, I take off running.
By the time I reach the first fields I am drenched in sweat. My lungs
