The Blood of Amietta

XXVII. Constellations

We ride as long as we dare before setting up camp. It's a long and brutal day on the road, but that hardly fazes anyone. We all know that the worst is yet to come. Tomorrow we will reach the capital– no one can predict how that will go. The closer we get to the castle, the more nervous I become. I'm not the only one either. Everyone has a bit of a nervous edge to them as they scatter about the campsite, choosing their sleeping spots in the fading light.

I catch sight of Noelani as she passes by, her eyes never meeting mine. We haven't spoken much at all since she comforted me at the Liberation camp yesterday. Just a few necessary sentences passed back and forth on the trail earlier. I'm trying not to think about what that means.

Suddenly, Arabelle knocks me out of my thoughts, handing me a brown canvas bag. My bed for the night it seems. I thank her with a nod as I glance around, looking for a place where I can be alone. I need to clear my head if I'm going to be of any help tomorrow. It's time to focus on the mission.

The worst part about long rides is that they give you too much time to think.

What am I doing here? I've been trying to answer that all day. I scoff to myself. I know exactly why I'm here. I'm here for Noelani. But why?

All that I've worked for in the last decade is back at the Liberation camp. I've been trying to find my mother since I was twelve. I wanted to see Mama again so badly. At the very least, I wanted to understand. I let that all slip right through my fingers without a second thought.

Why?

It can't just be for a pretty girl.

Of course it isn't. Noelani is more than that. She's important to me, and our connection runs deep.

So why can't she admit that?

Suddenly I'm angry. Angrier than I have any right to be. Noelani never hid anything from me. She never once led me to believe that we could have more.

It hurts.

I pause, my foot caught in a pile of leaves as I realize how far I've wandered from camp. I shrug. This should do just fine. I unroll the thin mattress, unable to stifle my disappointment when it registers just how flimsy the sleeping contraption is.

Well, so much for comfort.

In the distance, a disturbance catches my attention. I make my way back to the group quickly, curious to see what's going on.

"Cleo, what are you doing here?" Silas grumbles as I approach. He marches up to the young bloodsorcerer, his nearly black eyes shining deep with worry. "This is dangerous. You need to go back."

Cleo frowns, ripping his sleeve away from Silas. "It's not fair," he cries. "I'm just as good a sorcerer as you. I deserve to go on this mission."

The boys stare at each other, an unsaid challenge hanging in the air between them.

"What's going on here?" Sorgin cuts in. He abandons the fire he was tending to, marching up to the young sorcerers with an expectant look.

Cleo huffs, turning his back on Silas to address the former Knight. "I wanted to go on the mission," he pouts.

"I'm worried enough about Morla," Silas growls at the boy. "I'll be too distracted with you around."

"I can take care of myself!" Cleo insists. "I want to help you save your sister."

Morla and Silas are siblings?

I wonder what that must be like– to grow up training with two bloodsorcerers knowing that you'll never be able to keep up with them. From what I've heard, Silas is a magic prodigy, not unlike my mother. That's why Evadne agreed to let him come. Or so I thought.