Page 136 of A Courage of the Chosen

He truly believes we can’t save her.

“We’ll find a way,” I repeat, unsure if it’s for my benefit or his. When I turn to her again, she’s still fighting my restraints.

“Forgive me,” I mumble, only for Rach.

She slumps into me when it’s done, and I gently lower her to the ground as I draw my magic home. At the sight of her limp, Callahan turns away, fetching a length of rope from his saddle now the horses have returned. He secures her wrists and ankles, then stays kneeling at Rach’s side, brushing a lock of hair off her face. He tries to hide the slight tremble in his fingers.

“We’ll find some seline on the road. It’ll keep her knocked out if we use enough of it,” I say.

Callahan nods stiffly, and the crackle of flames ignites at our backs. I have no idea how Brodie got a fire going that quickly when everything is so damp and the rain is still coming down, but the flames climb higher and higher, as though they’re fueled by our collective rage.

For the next few minutes, we watch Raghnall’s body burn. The vengeful side of me basks in the heat of the fire, and the smell of his flesh turning to ash. There’s a perverse kind of joy in it that I’d never expected to feel. The beast that’s prowled in my heart since I learned what really happened to my family curls up contentedly. Calm in a way it’s never been, and I don’t have to force it back where it belongs.

When we’re satisfied Raghnall’s really gone, and we’ve burnt the bodies of our men, we mount up, and Brodie tenderly lies Rach’s unconscious body over his lap, refusing to let anyone else touch her. The way he handles her nearly breaks me, and when he says “I’ve got you, baby,” I have to fight to keep myself together.

All of us are tense as we make for Elfayne City, and I broach the thing we haven’t discussed in the long hours on the road, as we stop for a few moments by a small glen to let the horses drink. “I knew there was something monstrous under Raghnall’s skin, but I never thought . . .”

“I know,” Callahan adds, running a hand down his horse’s neck.

Brodie remains quiet, his back stiff as he keeps away from the rest of us with Rachel, who is still lying over his saddle, mercifully unconscious.

Side by side, somewhat walled in by Mabel and Callahan’s blue-roan mare, Cal’s fingers brush against mine, and I take his hand. Aside from the small physical connection, he’s completely retreated from me, and there’s no sign of him at the other end of our light-filled bond. He’s protecting himself the only way he knows how.

My next question is tentative, but I can’t be the only one thinking it. “Do you think Tavish can shift like that?”

Callahan tips his head back to the canopy, and sighs deeply. “Probably.”

What’s equally concerning is the control he has over the Dorche. He can turn them into Brollachan at will, and it means the war that’s looming will be harder than we thought.

“What are we going to do?” I mutter.

“I don’t know.”

And it’s then I realize that there’s been a fragment of hope hiding in the depths of Callahan’s eyes. Because right now, there’s not a single shred of it left.

◆◆◆

The hours drag. No conversation, no banter, and the longer it stretches, the wider the chasm becomes. We’ve never ridden as hard, or pushed Mabel and the other horses as much as we do on the two days it takes us to get back to the palace.

Rach wakes up once before we manage to find seline root, and we have to knock her out again ourselves. Brodie took care of it this time, and he didn’t bother wiping away the one tear that escaped the corner of his eye as he did it.

My friend, who never fails to lift our spirits or make us smile, retreats into himself, and a hard edge lines his features. I try to be there for him, but I find myself floundering, and it only makes Brodie withdraw even further. So, I stop.

I know better than anyone that sometimes you need the space to breathe around the relentless agony of grief.

We find a healthy patch of the bulbous flower shortly after that, and regularly force water laced with it down Rach’s throat, so we don’t have to physically restrain her again.

Night has long since fallen as we ride along the path next to Ederline, less than an hour from our destination. My body is exhausted, and Mabel pants heavily beneath me after a journey that’s felt far longer than two days.

“Wait.” I draw us all to a stop. “We can’t just ride up to the palace like this with her,” I say, when they all give me puzzled expressions.

I turn a stern gaze onto the guards. “You will not speak of this. When you’re asked what happened to the others that came with us, you tell them we were attacked by Brollachan and we burned their bodies. Nothing more. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they reply instantly.

“I need you to go ahead into the dungeons. There’s another part to them that Raghnall and Tavish used underground. There are chains in those cells that we need. Take a small number of you and find them, and wear gloves when you handle them. Go. Now.”

They dip their heads and ride off immediately.