Page 145 of Starside

The storm rages on. I just keep running.

I make it another mile before the knot in my chest tightens. I remember Valen’s words. There’s an entire cavalry after us. There’s a bounty.

I saw their marks on the road. They might not know exactly where Raker is, but he doesn’t even know they’re looking for him. He could run right into them. And he … he’s the best fighter I have ever seen, but even he would fall against an entire cavalry.

An image flashes of that fate. Of a blade going right through his spotless armor. Of that magnificent sword belonging to anyone else.

Fuck me.

Fuck my weak, bleeding heart.

Fuck the sense of loyalty I feel toward someone who has told me they won’t hesitate to strike me down.

He called me reckless. Foolish. He told me I wasn’t strong enough for this journey. I should not care. I should not.

But I suppose I’m just proving him right as I curse through my teeth and turn around.

Rain batters the top of my head as I run through the woods I had carefully prowled through earlier. Running right toward the very warrior I had fought so hard to escape, facing every single danger a second time.

Because even though he has made me feel small, even though he has called me pathetic, even though he has pointed out all my flaws, again and again …

He went through the mist for me. I don’t even care if it was for my sword, because if it really was, he would have taken it then. I know how easy it is for him to kill anything, so there is a reason he has kept me alive, beyond using me as a mule, beyond the map. I won’t pretend it is care, or loyalty, or companionship.

I won’t pretend there isn’t a high chance he’ll kill me if he ever sees me again.

Regardless of the reasons, he has saved my life countless times.

Regardless of the execution, he has forced me to become better.

And maybe I just can’t bear the fact that someone like Raker would be crept up on by a group of immortals. Not after everything.

The scars on the bottom of my back pull and burn, the tissue stinging in the storm, the way it does whenever it rains. It’s a reminder that I should leave him there to die, because he did the very same thing to me.

But I am not Raker.

I am loyal, I have mercy, and those might be flaws in a place like this, on a quest like this, but they are traits my mother taught me. So they can’t be wrong. They can’t.

It’s the reminder of her, the reminder of everything she gave me, that has me sprinting through that forest without stopping. That has me ignoring the pull of every wicked thing lurking within it.

And the reminder of him. Of the relief of seeing him in those mists. Of the awe as he cut everything that was about to gut me down.

I’m heaving by the time I reach the cliff that looks out over the black lake.

There it is. The ruins. It’s undisturbed. A wisp of smoke is still curling from the chimney.

They haven’t found him yet. The rush of relief I feel at that is surprising. It’s too strong, like a current that could sweep me off my feet.

It’s quickly smothered when I notice a flash of light on the other side of the water. Panic clutches my chest.

A wave of knights on horses is advancing out of the valley, right toward the lake. There are dozens. All armed with swords.

Raker. My eyes find the boat upon the rocks. The one I took, leaving him no way of getting to shore. Not without swimming in that ominous water. I’ve just made it easier to get to him. They will use that boat, and the other one that was already there, to catch him unawares. They will surround the lake, making escape impossible. Guilt pierces my heart as I look from the advancing cavalry to that ruin. To that fire that we sat in front of together.

They’re after both of us. It is foolish. It is ruinous.

But before I can think about every way that I’m about to seal my fate, I take a deep, rattling breath, bring my hands to the sides of my mouth, and open it to scream across the lake—

A large hand smothers my lips, pulling me forcefully back against a hard chest. My skull bounces off armor.