Forging Silver into Stars

I’ve spent so long traveling by myself that I forgot how different it is to make the trek to Emberfall with a unit of men and women. With loaded wagons, the going is slower, and there are too many of us for an inn, so we have to make camp at night. I hear the muttered comments about what happened in Briarlock, and I wonder how far gossip will stretch this time. Tensions were already high between both countries, and knowing their king is in Crystal City, the target of an attack, is not endearing anyone in this group to the people of Syhl Shallow.

Jax is a bit shy with the soldiers, and I’m not sure how much of that is an unfamiliarity with the language and how much is the newness of finding himself in an unexpected role. After everything that happened in Briarlock, I was concerned that the soldiers might be a bit hostile to him. But I needn’t have worried: they’ve heard about how he fought at Grey’s side, and they’ve already started exaggerating his role in protecting the king.

“I heard he got a man in the neck from a hundred yards,” one of the guards murmurs to another when they’re unaware I’m listening.

I smile and don’t bother to correct them.

There’s never any shortage of work, but once dusk falls and bedrolls have been laid out, I dig a deck of cards out of my pack and try to coax Jax into a game with the guards and soldiers.

At first he’s reluctant, uncertain, but a soldier named Malin pulls a bottle of amber liquid from somewhere and holds it out. “Come,” he says in heavily accented Syssalah. “Drink. Lose silver.”

Jax huffs a surprised laugh, but he joins the game. Later, we lie in the darkness and stare at the stars, and he begs me to teach him words in Emberish, so I do, anything I can think of. Sky and camp and night and a dozen others, until Malin throws something at us and says, “How about sleep?”

Rhen travels with us, but he doesn’t linger with the soldiers. He keeps his own tent, and we meet in the morning while the others break camp. He outlines his plans to provide support to the king from here, to root out any insurrection on this side of the border. There’s no worry in his voice when he speaks to his guards, but I hear it when he speaks to me, of the challenges we will surely face in the months to come.

“Tycho,” he says, and his voice is very quiet. “For the time being, it would be best if you kept your magic a secret.”

I hesitate, surprised at the pulse of rebellion that flickers in my heart, but I nod. “As you say.”

“You haven’t mentioned it among the soldiers?” he presses. “Not even in jest?”

I shake my head. “Jax knows. The royal family knows. Anyone else who witnessed it died in the attack.”

“Do you trust Jax to keep your confidence?”

“I do.”

“Good.” He pauses, studying me. “Grey said you would not tell him what you bargained with the scraver.”

I startle, then flush. I didn’t realize that conversation would’ve gone beyond the king, but of course I should have. “I made that bargain to save his life.”

“He said as much.” Prince Rhen pauses. “And I believe I understand why you would not trust him enough to reveal whatever you yielded.”

“No! It wasn’t a matter of trust. It was—” I stop short, thinking of everything unsaid between me and the king over the last few months.

It was a matter of trust.

Rhen waits while I work this out in my head. I’m not sure what to say.

“I know you wouldn’t offer anything to put him at risk,” Rhen eventually says. “For what it’s worth, Grey knows that, too. That’s the only reason he’s allowing you to keep this secret.”

I bristle. He’s still sending me to Emberfall. He’s getting me out of the way.

I don’t say it. I don’t think I need to.

As if confirming my thoughts, Rhen gives a nod of finality. “You’re dismissed. We have a long way to go today.”

I turn to leave the tent, and for some reason, my insides feel jangled up and uncertain in a way that’s becoming too common.

But then Rhen calls me back. “Tycho. Wait. I do have a question.”

The soldiers outside are calling taunts at each other, striking tents and loading the wagons. I should be helping them, but I stop and turn. “Yes?”

“Do you trust me enough to tell me?”

It’s an honest question, delivered with more gravity than it should need. Maybe that’s why I take a moment to consider, instead of flippantly refusing, the way I did with Grey.

My vow to Nakiis has been rattling around in my head for days. I truly don’t know what he’ll ask for—or when. Maybe I am a fool, and I have no desire to have someone else confirm it.

But as I stare back at Prince Rhen, I think of our conversation on the day he steered me away from the courtyard. The day we shared secrets and vulnerabilities. Or the way he found me in the stables when I was avoiding the king, the way we raced through the woods on horseback. The way he challenged Lord Alek on my behalf.

Prince Rhen is the last man in the world I ever thought I’d look at as a friend, but just now, that jangled uncertainty in my chest seems to smooth over.

“Yes,” I say suddenly, surprising even myself. “I do.”