Prince of Traitors

Owin

Our horses trudge over dead leaves and fallen branches as we draw closer to the mountains. We've been on our own for a week or so after the altercation with Rahmi and Val. No one else has come after Jas, and the closer we get to home, the more amicable Kieran becomes. He's eager to get up the mountain to our tribe's settlement.

He rides ahead of me and Nimia beside Jasper. I'm satisfied to see him talking to the prince; ever since their talk in the lake, their relationship has been fragile but pleasant. I couldn't hear much of their conversation. They'd spoken in such hushed tones, and anyway, Nimia had dragged me away, insisting we give them privacy.

She's a clever girl, my little sister. More clever than most ten-year-olds.

Nim rides next to me, wrapped up in her furs against the autumn chill. After that warm day at the lake, she passed out the gloves and scarves that she and Jasper had bought before Rahmi and Val kidnapped him. The leather gloves are soft and help me grip the reins well, and the scarf is fluffy and covers my nose and mouth, warming my face.

"Will Jasper live with us when we get home?" Nim asks.

I laugh a little. "Maybe for a short time, but, uh... I expect he'll move on at some point," I reply. "He'll want to leave the continent eventually. That's been his goal the entire time I've known him."

"But why?" Nimia asks. "Why wouldn't he just stay with us?"

I look down at my hands, busy myself by fussing with my horse's reins. "I made a deal with him," I explain. "We agreed to help each other get north, and then he'd be on his way. That was it."

Nimia looks between me and Jasper, riding ahead with his back to us. Her brows furrow in confusion. "But you don't want him to go," she says, like it should be obvious to me.

I snort, a little awkwardly. "I... Don't be ridiculous."

My sister shrugs her small shoulders. "He doesn't want to go either."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "How do you know?"

"I can just tell." She gives me a conspiratorial grin, waggling her eyebrows at me. "He likes you a lot."

I chuckle at my sister. "I should hope so," I say. "We're friends."

"Not like that," Nimia says. "He likes you."

I roll my eyes. "It doesn't matter anyway. He probably won't stay with us for long." When she doesn't say anything for a while, I look over at her. She's frowning. "What?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I just got used to him being around. I thought he'd stay and become one of us."

"You did?"

Nim nods. "I thought you and him would get married and have children someday. I'd be an aunt and help take care of them, and then Mum and Dad would pass the tribe onto you. You'd be the shaman like Mum and Jasper would be the chieftain like Dad, and we would all go hunting and live in the mountains and celebrate the goddesses' festivals as a big family. And we would all be happy together forever."

I reach across the gap between our horses and hold Nim's free hand. I squeeze her little fingers in mine. Her frown melts into a half smile.

"I'm going to miss him when he goes," she says.

"Me too," I say. I let go of my sister's hand. "But I have to be honest, I'm ready for things to go back to normal."

"Yeah," Nimia says. "I miss Mum and Dad, and Saer and Bryn. And all my friends."

I give her a small smile. "It won't be long now. You'll be back to playing and exploring with your friends in no time."

My little sister grins at me. "I'm excited to see everyone again. How much longer do you think we have to go, anyway?"

I look up at the mountains that draw closer every day. "Another few days, maybe," I say. "It'll be a little slower going once we start uphill, but we know the terrain."

"Okay," Nimia says.

"We should be back in time for Winter's Day," I add. Nim beams at me, her elation written on her face. Winter's Day is one of her favorites. There's food and dancing and music, all day and night before the start of the cold season as the tribe readies to welcome the first snow.

My gaze slides to Jasper's back as he rides ahead of me. For a moment I let myself think about what Nimia said. About a future as the shaman of our tribe like our mother. About a future with him. For so long I always imagined Kieran by my side, imagined little silver-haired sons and daughters running around, playing in the woods and the stream by our settlement like my sisters and I did growing up.

But slowly the hair on my imaginary children's heads shifts from bright silver to burnished gold, filling my dreams with kind eyes that crinkle at the corners, green as pine trees.