“If you say you’re the father, I shall have my darling, docile husband beat you within an inch of your life.”
“I am not the father,” Archer said, “but I have a vested interest in this child’s survival. I couldn’t risk Lord Barden finding out about it while we were on his side of the river.”
“You didn’t trust us?” Jemma asked.
“Weren’t you threatening to have Lew beat me within an inch of my life a second ago?”
“But after everything we’ve done for you—”
“It’s not about me,” Archer said. “This is bigger than me. It’s even bigger than Mae and her baby, who we will henceforth refer to as her ‘complication.’” He glanced over at Briar again. “I think she’s with us, but I don’t want her to find out about the baby until we see how she responds to the change in targets. She’ll have to prepare a whole new set of curses.”
“And we’ll have to come up with a whole new plan.” Jemma rubbed her temples so hard it was a wonder she didn’t break the skin. “Are you one hundred percent certain Mae is not in Larke Castle?”
“Yes,” Archer said without hesitation. He was only about eighty-nine percent certain, but they didn’t need to know that. Lord Larke wouldn’t want anyone to discover Mae’s condition. On reflection, the castle was far too busy to keep a secret like that. He should have realized it even before Kurt told him about Horatio Drake’s disappointment. But the castle wasn’t the only secure place Jasper Larke owned.
“Well, where is she, then?” Esteban grumbled.
“Yes, spit it out, lad,” Lew said, taking his notebook from his vest pocket. “We have schemes to plan.”
“I believe Mae and her bouncing bundle of complication are being held in Narrowmar Stronghold.”
There was a moment of silence, during which Archer heard a faint, sleepy sigh from Briar. She had stopped tossing and turning, but it sounded as if her dreams were troubled. He knew a thing or two about that.
“Impossible,” Esteban said hoarsely. “We barely had a chance with the castle. We will not remove anything from Narrowmar that Larke wants to keep there, living or dead.”
“I have faith in us,” Archer said. “I fully expect to get both of them out alive.” His fist tightened on the arrow, bending the shaft. “I’m willing to die trying, though I understand if the rest of you don’t feel that way.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you’re the only brave and noble soul here,” Lew said. He glanced at his wife, his face sober. “We all agreed to do whatever it takes.”
Jemma sat utterly still. Archer held his breath. Jemma knew more about Narrowmar than most of them. She understood the risks the change in direction would involve. For a heart-squeezing moment, he was afraid she would say no, afraid she would say it was impossible. But she met her husband’s eyes steadily, then she pulled her red shawl tighter around her shoulders and nodded to Archer.
He released a breath. Once Jemma gave her assent, the others would as well.
“Fine,” Esteban muttered. “We’ll figure out a way.”
“Good,” Archer said. “So, shall we talk about our new route? I’d like to sleep a wink before the sun rises.”
Their new course would change everything. He was about to take a massive gamble, but at least the others finally knew how perilous Mae’s condition was. He pictured her sunny smile, her quick laugh, her terrible taste in food—and men. She hurled herself headlong into every pursuit, sometimes to her peril. He wished she’d made some different choices, but she didn’t deserve to bear her child in that spooky old stronghold, surrounded by her father’s enemies. Archer wished he’d made some different choices too. Then maybe neither of them would be in this mess.
It felt good not to carry the secret alone anymore. Archer was one of the few people Mae had told about her pregnancy. He had visited her in Barden Vale six months before while preparing for an elaborate burglary that would have relieved her father of the many gifts and trophies he kept in his great hall. Archer had warned Mae not to share the happy news with anyone—even the child’s father. The suggestion had offended her deeply. Archer’s face still stung from the slap, which he might have deserved, except that he was absolutely right about the baby’s father.
Mae must have told him. There could be no other explanation for why Lord Larke would break the king’s truce and steal Lord Barden’s daughter. Archer doubted Lord Barden knew about his grandchild. Otherwise, he would march on Larke Castle openly and bring the king’s wrath down on both counties. He wouldn’t waste time offering discreet ransoms and skirmishing in the Mud Market with Larke’s goons. Archer couldn’t wait to see the look on Barden’s face when he was the one who collected the reward for Mae’s rescue.
As if that’s what this is about. Even he couldn’t pretend the money was his primary motivation anymore, but the team deserved it after all their trouble.
Just hold on a little longer, Mae. We’re coming.
This is the story of a mission. It was an important mission, bigger than a damsel in distress and a spell-guarded fortress and a merry band of thieves. It was the kind of mission that could shake the earth if it succeeded—or if it failed. The outlaw called Archer alone knew how the kidnapping of the damsel would reverberate across forests and counties and make the world a demonstrably worse place. Saving her would surely be considered noble, but Archer didn’t care about that any more than he cared about the reward.
For him, the mission was personal.
Chapter 12
Narrowmar Stronghold was tucked into the base of the Bandon Mountains a week’s ride north of the Sweetwater River. Archer feared switching their destination would put them farther behind schedule, but Lew knew a route that would shave a day off the journey. They set
