Chapter Sixteen #3
Solana wouldn’t give him a reason to renege on their agreement. Resigned, she pushed past him and stepped up to mount. When she swung her leg over and into the saddle, she narrowly missed kicking Reyes’s head. Accidentally, of course.
“I think you simply don’t trust me to be in control of something. What was it that you said?” Solana looked off as if thinking hard. “That I was reckless and a coward?”
Reyes swung up and filled the space behind her, his body curling over hers as he grabbed the reins and tucked them into her hands.
“You’ll have all the control this time,” he murmured, his breath pushing the fine hairs at her temple and tickling her cheek. “Things are different now. We have a truce, remember?”
The reins squeezed in two fists, Solana ignored the heat gathered low in her belly and listened as he guided her out the back entrance of the stables and down a path that pressed against the wall and skirted the royal gardens.
It was dark enough that they stayed in the shadows, and the gardens, colorfully vibrant during the day, looked ominous and misleading at night.
She could just glimpse the top of the tall statue depicting the late King Julian and Queen Alanna.
They had died during the betrayal twenty years ago, when muki poured in and ravaged all of Supay.
It was said that Prince Killian’s cries of anguish when he found their bodies scared even the demons from the underworld, that they howled their own anguish at the skies before slaughtering more people in cold blood. And then he had hunted Masimu.
From friends to foes. Allies to enemies.
Solana looked away from the vaguely familiar faces.
“Stop here,” Reyes said. She gently tugged on the reins, and the horse danced to a stop.
Reyes produced a Medallion from a pocket in his cloak and pressed it into a divot in the middle of a small square in the wall.
It lit up with a quick flash, and then the stone shifted, revealing a doorway and the forest beyond.
“Medallions are imbued with our blood,” he told her, gently guiding them through.
“Only myself, Hakun, and King Killian can exit through here.”
“So the Medallion I would have stolen from Nikolas and Oskar—”
“Tried to steal,” Reyes interrupted.
“—wouldn’t have worked. They would have known it wasn’t mine when I tried to leave.”
“Right.” There was a hint of something like remorse in his voice. “You would have been detained and imprisoned.”
And executed.
Solana had experienced two out of three, plus an added bonus of torture. While she could have done without it, she was grateful to be alive, that the opportunity for escape had been handed to her with little sacrifice expected. “Have you left Supay before?”
“No,” Reyes said quietly. He offered nothing else, but Solana found she was less eager to ride into the dark than she thought she would be. The air felt different—dangerous—and she didn’t know whether it was because of what lay before them or between them.
A path bisecting the trees stretched into the gloom. The horse’s head bobbed with impatience. Solana held the reins steady, mind churning with possibilities. If Reyes was right and her gift belonged solely to her, then she was an island unto herself. Set apart.
If she was right and her gift could be easily shared, then the burden of responsibility would no longer be hers, but neither would the burden of power.
Reyes had called her dangerous. Perhaps he was right.
The hand resting on her waist tightened, his fingers digging lightly into the soft flesh above her hip bone in encouragement.
“Ready?” he asked, voice soft.
Solana suppressed a shiver, kicked her heels into the horse’s side, and they were off, the balmy wind blowing back any reservations or doubts. They rode until the trees thickened and they couldn’t see the sky, until the path narrowed, then disappeared, and they were forced to dismount and walk.
“We’ll leave him here.” Reyes guided the horse to a thick tree, whispering into his ear as he stroked his neck. The horse stayed without a tether. “So he can run if there’s danger.”
She liked that he offered the information without her having to ask.
That he considered every scenario, and not only the ones where they emerged victorious.
Confidence that wasn’t confused with unrealistic optimism.
Solana hated to admit there was something to admire, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
“Here,” she said, holding out her dagger. “So we’re ready.”
The moonlight dappled his face so that she could only see his profile, but it was enough that she saw the curve of his lips slightly diminish from the press of his mouth.
They hadn’t had time to make a second dagger, much to his frustration.
Reyes hesitantly took it from her and then handed her his own.
“If anything goes wrong,” he said gravely, “run. Don’t try to be the hero. ”
“I’ve never tried to be a hero a day in my life.” She fisted his dagger, simple but sturdy, and turned back to the forest, the thrill of the hunt like a greedy fire burning away anything else she might have felt. “Let’s go kill a muki.”