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Thicket took in a deep, stabilizing breath, then approached their shared horse. She stroked a hand down the horse’s misty body, praying her apprehension didn’t get her bucked off. Before her fingers could latch around the reins, Marcellus stole them from her grasp.

She spun on him, about ready to demand what he was doing, but found his face inches from hers. She sucked in a breath and leaned back, startled. He arched an amused brow. “You’re jumpy.”

“And you are in my personal space.”

“Get used to it, Princess. There isn’t a lot of room on that horse and we are in for a long journey.”

Thicket scowled. “Then let me ride with Bern.” She spun to stalk for her friend but Marcellus pulled her back.

“Her horse riding skills are more suited for casual strolls, not for avoiding attacks, which we are sure to encounter at some point. Besides, I don’t trust her not to let you talk her into something either reckless or stupid. So no, you will not be riding with Bern.”

Thicket rolled her eyes.

“My question to you, Princess,” he said, leaning in so his eyes were all she could see, “is whether you want me to prevent you from falling.” He listed his head to the side. “Or catch you if you do.”

Thicket studied him. She got the feeling he wasn’t just asking how she wanted to get onto the horse. By the taut pull of his jaw and the raging storm in his eyes, she knew he hadn’t bought her promise to Caspian to play it safe.

He didn’t like her tendency to rush into danger. She knew it made his job so much harder, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. Not when she thought it could save her friends. But he wasn’t asking her to stop. He was giving her a choice. To take the safe route, or take the reins—take a risk—but do it all of her own power.

I trust you, Thicket. I always have.

Either way, he would be there. It was her turn to trust him.

Thicket didn’t respond. Didn’t need to as she took the reins from his hand and swung onto the horse.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Dymrian horses carried them across the plains separating Sleeria from Spindlewood forest. From this high up, the woods that had once seemed never-ending passed by in an instant. Thicket peered over the side of the horse, trying to catch a glimpse of the Sculptor’s Dam, but it was buried somewhere beneath the thick canopy.

A hand wrapped around her torso and Marcellus’ voice vibrated against her ear. “Your curiosity will be the death of you.”

“I am not going to fall,” she said.

“You sure about that? You have fallen quite a lot lately. The clock tower, into a boat…”

Her cheeks flushed, remembering the close proximity of their bodies, almost as close as they were now. The warmth of his chest pressed against her back, doing nothing to block out the memory.

“Yeah, well, cats are curious and in this world, curiosity brings them back.”

“Only nine times. And you’ve probably gone through at least eight already.”

Thicket rolled her eyes and redirected her attention forward. Jagged, orangish-brown stones rose up to meet them. The tallest peaks were tipped with white powder, despite the scorching sands she knew lay at its base. Her stomach churned at the memory of Lavender, standing on the edge of one of those mountains as she brought her sword down upon an innocent phoenix.

Was she still there? Did she anticipate Thicket’s plan to save Alouette? What other traps had she set up to rip away their advantage?

Since waking up, her sister had been a phantom, an entity of shadows and fear, lurking in the depths of her mind and only showing her face in Thicket’s nightmares. This was the first time she would come close to making contact with her. The first time Thicket set foot in a place where her sister had once been present.

“Have you ever met Lavender?” Thicket asked.

“My family never left Bilya, and royals didn’t tend to travel there. I heard stories about her growing up and saw the occasional projection of her on the memoir, but that was it. Even after she drove everyone to Bilya, she never once dared to show her face personally.”

“I wonder if she was always this elusive,” Thicket said. “Sometimes, it doesn’t even feel like she is a real person. Just this… dark presence, always hovering. Always there.”

“Have you had any more dreams?”

“I don’t think so.”

She hadn’t slept well the past few days, but when she did, she woke up without consequence. She wondered if Lavender knew Thicket had entered into her mind. If that was why she hadn’t barged into Thicket’s dreams.