Chapter 4

I tug my cloak closer to myself as the mountain air settles into my bones and wish I hadn’t shoved my extra shirt so far down in my pack. The day had been warm but the closer we get to the mountains the quicker it fades. Gates of the outpost cast long shadows as the sun sinks behind the mountains. With each squelch of mud that echoes in front and behind me my stomach grumbles.

We file through wooden pillars into the outpost that is made up of a few simple buildings. I slip off Hale with pudding legs, patting her side while Idon and Tate go into the inn to inform the owner we have arrived. Near the inn are stables for the horses, and a modest trading shop—or rather trading window— barely wide enough for one person to stand inside. This is a place for travelers. The closest village is only a few miles behind us, but this inn offers privacy, an obvious choice for the Legion.

The ground is muddy from the thawing snow and rain, but the inn appears well kept and the two-story wooden building shows no obvious need for repairs. Looking around, I help Kirn finish unloading Tate’s horse and when he and Idon return, Tate is beaming.

“What’s with the look?” Michael nods at Tate, as if it’s his catch phrase of the day.

“Well, there’s been a mix up,” Idon sighs, “The messenger didn’t realize we have a female in our party. Carter, you’re bunking with Tate tonight.”

My eyebrows rise at the assignment. It isn’t unusual to bunk up, but as I watch Tate tuck a coin into his pocket, I know this pairing had not been Idon’s first choice. I can already hear the teasing I will receive from Kirn tomorrow. I shoot him a look and his face burns red as he chokes on the onslaught already brewing underneath that head of curls.

We take our things to our rooms then meet in the dining room. The innkeeper has prepared us hash, chicken, and fresh bread. Not the assortment of fluffy, nutty, or sweet breads you can find in Ivory Hill, but simple bread. Not everyone is as lucky to have ingredients imported from the best cities in Holwood. Idon and Tate lead a quick recap on everyone’s roles, without going into too much detail, as we are in the presence of the innkeeper, his wife, and their son, and we don’tknow who has rented out any of the other rooms in the inn tonight.

I say goodnight and follow Tate who is ducking into our room. I shimmy past him and start to remove my layers. The fire that cackles in the hearth turns the small room stuffy. “You don’t seem excited to have me as a bunkmate tonight,” Tate teases from where he leans against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“I’m just focused on the mission,” I call over my shoulder, rummaging through my sack for a hairbrush.

“Nope,” he crosses the room and reaches for my wrist, pulling me around to face him. He sits down on the bed and places his hands on my hips. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“No, we talked on our breaks, I asked about your new saddle.”

“You know what I mean, Carter,” his hands slide from my waist to the backs of my thighs. He stares up at me patiently waiting for me to spill my thoughts. He knows I will. Because Michael is right, I do love questioning motive.

“If something is wrong with the mission, I need you to tell me. Right now.” It sounds like a smooth conversation starter in my head.

He leans back, and releases his grip on me, “Nothing is wrong.”

Lie, his eyes scream.

“Tate, I have complete faith in you. As a leader, as a teammate, and as my closest friend. But you need to be honest with me. I know something is bothering you, and if it has something to do with the mission I want to know.”

“You don’t need to know this,” his eyes shoot down and I watch the fear roll through his body as his shoulders slump forward.

I drop to my knees in front of him and lift his head so I can look into his spectacular green eyes, but the fear is no longer there. It’s replaced with worry and confusion, like a swirling muck of moss. I push back the trimmed blond locks that fall over his forehead.

“Tate,” I say so quietly I’m not sure it’s out loud, “what do you know?”

He is silent for a moment, but then starts softly, “I can't say much about it, Carter… but this isn't really an intel mission to Silver City,” he sighs and stands up, launching himself into a pace in our small room. His long legs take him from one side to the other in just four steps. “It’s about bringing back something specific, something the king has asked Idon and me to find.” He keeps his voice low, but the urgency is there.

“What is it?” I rise to my feet and match his whisper.

“It’s a book, and a key.”

“A book? And a key?”

“Yup,” he still paces.

“A book about what? And what is the key for?”

“The councilman neglected to tell us exactly. But what I do know is, we must find the book, and this key,” he pulls parchment paper from his pocket, “before someone else does.”

On the parchment is a stencil drawing. It isn't like any key I’ve ever seen before. In fact, it looks more like a pendant. A long chain with a stone that has a swirl engraved into the face of it. I study the details, memorizing it.

“Someone else? Who is someone else Tate?”

He bites his lip, then he curses under his breath and mutters something about disobedience. “There have been rumors of something lurking in the shadows, in the outer cities and villages of Termont,” his whisper becomes barely more than a breath as he says, “We think it might be the Dark Knights. The Council thinks they’ve… they’ve come back.”

My heart drops,” Dark Knights? As in the Dark Knights of Alondra?”

“That’d be the ones.”

“That’s not…”

My mind goes murky with legends of the Dark Knights. They were the worst kind of Mondi. Extremists in their belief that magic made them superior. The Dark Knights were destructive, they’d used their power over the elements to burn, flood, wreck and destroy human villages all over Termont. And they’d been led by a powerful woman. Alondra, the Dark Queen.

She wasn’t a Monda, she was the daughter of the Goddess of the Spirit, Alkaiya. We don’t know much about Alkaiya or Alondra and their power, but we know Alondra was cruel and ruthless. She’d led her army of knights through Sarmia, and the Legion had had to defend our borders for years before we received any help from the other kingdoms. She’d murdered and cut her way through her own kingdom and sank claws into the other kingdoms, turning peaceful Mondi against their friends and family. A queen of nightmares, she’d unleashed a darkness upon the world that had only ended when King Edrian killed her on the palace steps in Silver City.

The Legion and the other kingdoms had hunted down the remaining Mondi, and any others discovered over the last fifty years. It isn’t the prettiest part of Termont history, but we did it so the future of our kingdoms can enjoy the peace we fought for.

“But the Mondi are all dead. Aren’t they? The Legion made sure of it. Magic is gone, and the Dark Knights are gone!” I hiss.

“The king thought.”

I recall what my father told me. I wonder if he knows about this threat, and if this is what he meant when he said others could be looking to Silver City.

“How does the king know the Dark Knights are back for sure? Has someone seen them?”

“I’m not sure how deep his knowledge runs. We’ve simply been given instructions and a warning. And, Carter, I am not supposed to be sharing this with anyone. If Idon finds out you know, he’ll be furious.”

I cross the space between us and reach around his neck, lacing my fingers together. Deep emerald eyes stare back at me. “I won’t say a word. I want to help. What can I do?”

“Just have my back when we get into the Semp Woods, and I’ll have yours,” he rests his hands around my waist. “We are a team, and we are the only three who know of the real danger out there. Magic cannot return to this world.”

“We’ll always be a team, Tate,” I pull him into a hug and lean my head on his chest.

I want to say more, I want to tell him how much I love him, how much I trust him, but we’re interrupted by a very untimely, very loud, bang on the door.

Kirn doesn’t even wait for a response. The door flies open, and he stands there, leaning against the frame, raising an eyebrow at our embrace.

“Idon wanted me to make sure you guys are getting to bed, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

I move away from Tate.

“Don’t worry Kirn, we’ll try not to keep everyone up,” Tate replies coolly and my cheeks heat. “Wouldn’t want Idon to lose his beauty sleep!” He shoots the comment out the door.

Kirn smirks, turns, and waves a loose hand at us over his shoulder.

“Just remember, we made a deal, Tate! You have two days!”

I look at Tate confused. His confidence is instantly replaced with annoyance, and something else. “You have two days for what?”

“It’s nothing,” he meets my eyes, “Reallynothing this time. Kirn just likes to make bets he knows he’ll lose.”

He turns to get ready for bed, and this feels like something I don’t need to push for answers. A bet between Tate and Kirn more than likely involves the hunting of an animal they think they might see on this trip, or chalgo, a staple drink in the south. Either way, if they are making bets on getting drunk, my money is on Kirn, and I don’t want to tell Tate that.