“What?” Alianor says.
He senses something’s up. He eyes her for a moment and then lumbers in the other direction, nose to the ground. The person’s trail merges with the path, and it’s clear they walked along it, in the same direction we did.
Wilmot catches up, and I tell him Malric followed this trail from camp.
“Yes,” he says. “But that’s also the direction they came from.”
Cedany nods as she approaches. “Which means it might be an old trail.”
“Their trail to the camp.” I exhale. “All right. I hate leaving people who could be in trouble, but I guess we can’t…we can’t do anything about it.”
I drag out the last words, hoping someone will jump in to say we must investigate.
“They’re hostages, presumably valuable,” Kaylein says. “That’s a diplomatic matter for your mother.”
“And if we follow them,” Alianor says, “we may end up spooking their captors into hurting them.”
I cut a look her way, but she avoids my gaze.
“I’m being impulsive,” I murmur. “Not thinking it through. Not doing what’s best for Tamarel.”
“No,” Kaylein says. “You’re being kind and considerate, and we want that in our rulers.”
“Unless being kind and considerate to a few people means endangering the lives of a hundred times that many.” I sigh. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that I’ll never be queen?”
“Once or twice,” Alianor says, and she enfolds me in a hug, which doesn’t help as much as it should.
I know what I saw her do. And I’m not sure how to handle it.
I am, however, sure how to handle this.
“We need to keep moving,” I say. “Whether this was kidnappers or wild animals or monsters, we don’t want to be here come nightfall.”
It starts raining before we’ve gone more than a mile. It isn’t a light mist, either. It’s pouring, and we’re close enough to a rocky foothill that it makes sense to run there for shelter rather than push on.
At the hill, we find a rock overhang big enough to cover all of us. We still hope to get farther that day, but when the storm breaks, the sky doesn’t lighten—we’ve lost the sun as it drops behind the mountains. We split into pairs and go in search of a better camping spot. Dain finds a cavern, and Kaylein starts a fire.
After dinner, Alianor wants to explore the cavern, which stretches into what looks like a crawlspace in the back, possibly a cave system. I decline, and that earns me a piercing look from both Dain and Wilmot.
“I’m just really tired,” I say.
Alianor slips off with a shrug, as if she doesn’t care, but shortly after, she returns.
“There are bones in there,” she says. “Some really old ones. You should come see if we can identify them.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “But thank you for thinking of me.”
The way she hesitates, as if trying to think of something to entice me, makes me feel as if she’s trying too hard to get my attention. Trying too hard to convince herself I didn’t see anything, and everything is fine.
I should go and check out the bones to reassure her, but I’m afraid if we’re alone together, I’ll confront her.
I glance at Dain. Having him along would help because I’d never confront Alianor in front of someone else.
When I look over, though, he’s busy working on an arrow.
“I’ll just…go look at these bones on my own,” Alianor says.
I nod, and she disappears through the tunnel. I glance at Dain again. He looks up with a “Hmmm?” but I wave for him to return to his work. Then I settle near the fire with Jacko and scratch behind his antlers.
I know what I saw. Something in that one pack got Alianor’s attention, and then she pocketed the silver chain and pretended she hadn’t found anything.
I see two possible reasons for her behavior, and I don’t like either.
One, she took something from the pack and then also took the chain. I won’t say “stole,” because they’d been left behind, though I guess that’s splitting hairs. If she’d found a necklace in the forest and asked what I thought, I’d have said to keep it. Same as if she’d found a pack just lying around. But these people were victims of something, and the fact that she hid what she took proves she knows it’s wrong. Yet that’s what bandits do, right? If they came across that camp in the forest, they’d take whatever they could, knowing anything left behind would be lost or scattered by animals. Still, I’d be uncomfortable taking things from there myself.
Maybe that’s why she hid it. So I wouldn’t judge her upbringing.
The other possibility is that Alianor took the items because they proved that her clan was responsible for attacking the travelers. Again, she didn’t want to be judged. I can’t blame her for that.
I need to talk to someone. As I brood, Jacko snuggles in with little chitters. Even Malric, lying between my feet and the fire, casts concerned looks my way. I’d happily talk to either of them, but sadly I need someone who can talk back.
Dain is the wrong person entirely. I’d be sharing a secret I’m not sure I should share, and I’d be asking him for advice he won’t feel comfortable giving.
I turn my gaze on Wilmot, drying his boots by the fire. I can’t guess how he’ll react, and I also don’t know him well enough to feel as if I can confide in him.
My answer is Kaylein. I like her. I respect and admire her, and I think she’s thoughtful and kind. But she’s also my bodyguard. Does that mean I shouldn’t ask her for personal advice? Mom confides in Berinon, though. He’s her bodyguard, friend and advisor. I can at least approach Kaylein and see what she says.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wilmot says Kaylein is gathering wood, but when I step into the forest, Cedany’s laugh floats over, followed by Kaylein’s.
