Burned to Ashes

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The air was cold and damp, the ground slick with mud. The castle was a two hour trip from the base, but it has taken us far longer. The trees cover us, dripping icy rain down our backs. Nearly fifty soldiers trudge before me, Calise leading them through the twisting roots and leaves. I wrap my arms around myself, attempting to keep warm. Blond hair sticks to my forehead as the pale sun peaks through the trees. I know that we are getting closer and the realization makes me nervous. Calise turns her dark head, meeting my gaze from yards away. I know what she is thinking. It isn't a coincidence that the Blood Guard hasn't caught up to us. My father is smarter than that. I swallow, reaching for my sword but realizing that it is not there. The brother blades are strapped at Allister's waist, confusion still resting on his features not quite knowing what to do with them. I would be lying if I say I am surprised that he is in the bloodline. How else would he have come into possession of one? They were thought to be lost forever. It had never occurred to anyone that one had been passed down.

"What's wrong?" Ansel says, ripping me from my thoughts. He follows my gaze to Allister, giving him a once over.

"My sword--" I sigh, gesturing to the soldier.

Ansel turns his eyes back on me, smiling slightly. "Here." He pulls a dagger from his sheath, handing it to me. The hilt was ornately decorated with delicately carved metal. I take it in my hand gently, as if not to break it.

I look up to him with uncertainty. "Are you sure?" I ask.

He dismisses me with a wave. "It's okay." He says, before leaning in his voice dropping to a whisper. "I stole it." Despite myself, a smile grows on my face. In front of us Desmond pulls Emery close to him, wrapping an arm around her. She accepts the gesture, resting her face on his chest as they walk. Desmond leans down, placing a kiss on her golden head. Next to me Ansel's eyes soften. I avert my gaze quickly, as if it hurt to see. "Envy is sinful, Prince." The thief prods jokingly.

"I guess it's a good thing I am not religious." I offer him a weak smile. I haven't had much time to think about what happened between me and Kalea, much less talk about it. Slowly, we descend down the path. The trees are tall and lush. Anything would be able to hide in their shadows. The thought unsettles me. Ansel walks ahead, meeting the pace of Desmond and Emery. I can hear him teasing them lightly as they laugh, their smiles contagious. I dip my head, slipping the dagger into the waist of my pants. I'm not sure how useful it will be, but the gesture is warming enough. The others don't seem nervous, despite not knowing what we might be walking into. I suppose it has been that way for most of their lives. Unlike them, I have been sheltered; not knowing what it was like outside of the castle walls. I don't blame them for being impatient with me. Part of me can't believe I am even here, walking alongside the princess of Kelden; helping her bring down my father. At the thought I turn around, searching for Kalea in the crowd. I find her quickly, her gray eyes meeting mine. Without having to ask she quickens her pace until she is next to me. Her black hair sticks to her thin shoulders as she turns her attention on me.

"How are you doing?" She asks, her normally angular features softening. Around us, people stare. I clear my throat awkwardly.

"I'm okay." I say, lifting my shoulders. "What about you?"

She sighs deeply, tilting her head. "We've traveled all this way and we're nearly there, but I still don't know what we will find. Or what I will say to my father when I see him." Sun beams down on us through a parting in the trees, making her pale skin glow. "I just wish I knew what Bertherium was planning." She looks to me, her lips parting as if expecting me to have the answer.

I inhale sharply, looking away from her; staring off into the distance. After a moment of pensive silence I reply. "He wants me dead," I shake my curly head, "and what my father wants he usually gets." A nervous look passes over her face as a cold wind greets us harshly. I don't want worry her but it is the harsh reality of the situation. "Calise is right," my voice drops, "we won't make it without her help." The princess's eyes travel to Allister, grazing over his back before falling onto the swords strapped at his sides.