They had all kept secrets upon secrets buried beneath more secrets. It was plausible that Briar had joined his crew in order to sabotage them, but could her pain when she’d described her work with her parents have been faked? Could she have lied about her desire to use her dark magic for good, which had so inspired Archer?
“I hope your trust in her is warranted,” Esteban said gruffly, as if sensing Archer’s doubts. “It will almost certainly be tested before the night is over.” He glanced up at the setting sun. “We cannot remain here, but I’ve had no word from Lew.”
Archer felt a tight pinch in his chest that had nothing to do with his fall from the tree. “Think he’s hiding on the other side of the ravine?”
“I hope so. Lew is not equipped to face those curse painters, but he should have the good sense to remain hidden.” Esteban got to his feet slowly, his joints creaking. “The Drydens know we’re here now, but more importantly, they know I am here. My reputation is also spoken of with fear at certain firesides.”
Despite his brave words, Esteban swayed. The fight and the healing song had taken too much out of him. His face was paler than usual, and his hands trembled. Archer leapt up and offered him an arm. He was grateful to be whole, but he wondered if Esteban should have saved his power instead of wasting it on healing him.
He helped the older man over to where the trees were still standing, the autumn leaves blown off them as if by a fierce wind. Esteban had only managed to drag Archer a little way from the ravine after they were flung from the trees.
“What will it take to defeat the Drydens?” Archer asked when they reached a more sheltered spot in the woods.
Esteban pursed his lips. “A variety of spells that require more time than we have and more power than I have left, at least without rest.”
“Can we keep them busy while Jemma and Briar finish their task?”
“If you wish to scream in the face of impossible odds, then yes,” Esteban said dryly. “We can keep them busy.”
“They don’t know Briar is here,” Archer said. “I reckon we have the advantage.”
Esteban snorted, but he didn’t try to argue. He sank down to sit against a tree trunk, looking as tired as if he’d been running for three days. No matter what he said about screaming in the face of their odds, Archer didn’t think Esteban had a whisper of power left in him. They would have to finish their task without magic—at least from Esteban.
Archer refused to contemplate the notion that Briar had been working with her parents all along. He had to believe children could choose a different path than their parents’, a better path. He had to believe a son wasn’t always doomed to repeat his father’s mistakes.
His own father had made plenty of mistakes. Perhaps it was time they had a chat about them. Archer grinned. “Sit back and rest as much as you need, Esteban. I have an idea.”
Chapter 24
Briar rubbed the dust from her eyes, coughing until her shoulders ached. Blackness surrounded her, as oppressive as a weight on her shoulders. At first she feared the debris from the tunnel collapse had blinded her, but she was simply in a very dark room, and her lantern had gone out.
She scrambled to her feet and felt around the mess of stone and dirt behind her. Huge rocks blocked the tunnel entirely. She couldn’t get to it without cursing the whole mountain open again—and possibly bringing it down on her head. Hopefully Jemma had made it out to where Nat was keeping watch before the tunnel collapsed. Regardless of their fate, Briar was on her own—inside Narrowmar Stronghold.
She checked on the paint jars in her satchel, relieved to find most of them intact. Only one jar had broken open, though she couldn’t tell which color was seeping through the canvas bag.
An eerie quiet filled the darkened space after the ruckus of the collapsing tunnel. She must be in one of the unused rooms at the back of the stronghold. She hadn’t expected to be there without Jemma to navigate. She had no choice but to move forward.
She crept along the wall, the stone smooth beneath her hands, seeking an opening or corner that might indicate where she was. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, the outlines of the space began to emerge, like a rough charcoal sketch. The room was large and rectangular, perhaps a former banquet hall or a training area. She grimaced. It could just as easily be a storeroom or a dungeon or an especially large privy. She wished she had a candle.
The sound of distant footsteps reached her. They were muffled, as if coming from inside the wall, or from a nearby corridor. Sure enough, her fingers soon met the scratchy wooden plane of a door. She pulled back, hoping the owners of those feet wouldn’t come inside.
The footsteps drew nearer, accompanied by two male voices.
“… see what they did? The whole damn mountain rolled up and tried to make a run for it.”
“Reckon they got the voice mage?”
“I’d be shocked if they didn’t.”
Briar winced. Were those men talking about Esteban? And were “they” who she feared they were? She inched closer to the wooden door.
“They still out there?”
“Aye. They’re with Lord Larke. He wants us to bring the little one to his quarters.”
“And the mother?”
“He doesn’t much care about her.”
“Poor girl. She’s not much older than my daughter—and with a daughter of her own already.”
Briar bit her lip, holding in a gasp. The two men passed the door at that exact moment—but they didn’t enter. She remained motionless as their footsteps continued down the corridor outside her hiding place.
“Don’t let his lordship hear it, but that son of his deserves to be castrated for using that young lady
