Dad said think of responsibility as a tart cherry pie. That’s my favorite, so when I cut it, I can’t help making my slice just a little bigger than my fair share. When taking responsibility for something that went wrong, cut yours just a little bigger than you deserve.
So I cut my share of blame here, and I put it on the shelf for later, when I can take it down and study it more and see where I went wrong.
The point now is to focus on those first two facts. Alianor is gone, and Alianor is in danger.
I was not wrong when I thought something in that pack had bothered her. Nor wrong that she’d taken that silver chain and hidden it from me. What I was wrong about? Her reasons.
I lift the note, written in a looping script on a page torn from her healer’s journal.
Dearest Rowan,
There is something I need to do, and I’ve come to realize I need to do it alone. The others are right—you need to push on to the mountains and find out what’s happening with the monsters. You can’t stop to help a few people when many times that number are in danger. Normally, I’d be the first to tell you that, and it IS the right thing to do. The right thing for YOU to do. And this is the right thing for me to do, because this problem is mine, and I cannot ask my friend to endanger her kingdom by helping.
I found something in one of the packs. At first, I thought I was mistaken. I must be, because it made no sense. But then, when I was coming to catch up with you, I found something else that removed all doubt.
I found a bracelet. A bracelet I gave to Sarika, my sister, who is studying in Roiva. Or she’s supposed to be studying in Roiva, and there is no reason for her to come home before the winter holidays. Yet the pack contains clothing that looks like hers and books from the university, where she is taking classes in geological science. The books could be a coincidence. The bracelet is not. Sarika was coming home, and she has been kidnapped.
When I first found the bracelet, I hid it out of fear that you might see it as proof that my family was involved. That my sister was the kidnapper, not the kidnapped. Later, I realized that I’d acted in haste, and that I should speak to you about it. That’s why I wanted us to explore the tunnels. But I could tell you were unsettled, and I think you saw me with the bracelet.
I thought more on the matter, and I decided that even if you didn’t blame my family, the others would. Also, while you might be able to persuade them to search for her, you really do need to continue on your mission.
This is my mission. You don’t need me right now. My sister does.
I will be fine. Please continue on, and I will meet up with you as soon as I can.
Your friend, always,
Alianor
Berinon—who has known Wilmot since they were children—jokes that the hunter’s emotional range runs from mildly annoyed to mildly pleased. That’s not entirely true. Mom says he has a temper, and Dain says he’s seen it, though only directed at him when he’s done something dangerous. I’ve never been sure how Wilmot felt about Alianor. Now I know, because he isn’t furious that she’s delayed our mission—he’s furious that she’s put herself in danger.
I’m a little annoyed about that, too, if I’m being honest. Does she really expect that we’ll keep going and abandon her in the forest? I don’t believe she’d ever force us to delay our mission to help hers. She can be reckless and occasionally thoughtless, but she isn’t that manipulative. The truth is that she’s convinced herself we’ll carry on. She’s also convinced herself that she’ll be fine out there.
I still feel guilty. She wanted to talk to me, and I didn’t want to talk to her. Worse, I realize this is what Jacko tried to tell me last night. Not that there was a back entrance to the cave, but that Alianor used it and never returned. She must have discovered that rear exit while exploring, and then realized she could stuff a fake shape under her sleeping blankets and slip away without alerting the guard. Or, at least, without alerting any guard who could speak, rather than just chatter or growl.
We’re at the other entrance now, with our packs on, as Malric confirms that Alianor did indeed come through the cave tunnels.
“The kidnappers’ trail went in the direction we were heading,” I say as Wilmot stares out into the forest, his arms crossed. “May we follow it as far as we can and then make a decision?”
“I don’t see that there’s any decision to be made,” he grumbles. “That fool girl put us in an impossible situation. What happens if she’s hurt? Or worse? How would your mother explain that to Everard of Bellamy? Yes, we were responsible for your daughter, but she made her own choices.”
He grumbles some more. He feels as if he needs an excuse for going after Alianor, that he can’t just say he’s worried about her. Dain would do the same, and I guess this is where he gets it from. That isn’t Wilmot’s fault. I’m sure he never taught Dain to hide the fact that he worries about others. I always assumed that some of the less positive traits I “inherited” from my parents—my mother’s temper, my father’s recklessness—came from actual heredity. But I wonder if it’s more about learning from people we admire, even if they’d be horrified to know what we were learning.
Wilmot was found as a baby, and it’s always been presumed he was abandoned. Even if he’d been too young to
