I can’t tell her that, but I look at Quinn and make sure my expression doesn’t match my words as I say, “Of course they can. But they might not feel comfortable living on the ground.”
Quinn smiles. “We’ll camp here for several days. See how it goes in Baalboden. We can decide what to do at the end of the week.” His eyes are still on Rachel.
She smiles back. “Good. Once the Commander is gone, we’ll see about finding you and Willow a place. There are plenty of trees in Baalboden.”
My smile feels stretched thin as I say, “Thank you for helping Rachel and for assisting me. I won’t forget it.” I stand and shake Quinn’s outstretched hand. His eyes flick toward me, and then he looks once more at Rachel, nods, and backs out of the clearing to take the first night watch.
I bank the fire and sit beside Rachel to talk though our plan one last time. I’ve barely started running scenarios when she interrupts.
“You’re not tall enough to pass as Melkin.”
It’s the same argument she’s been using for hours now.
“I’m tall enough. Plus, only Melkin knew the signal to give.”
“Only Melkin and his wife. Who was next to you in the dungeon. You don’t think the Commander might be expecting you to show up like this?”
She has a point, but since the only other recourse is to let her face the Commander herself, I keep arguing.
“It doesn’t matter what he expects. He wants this”—I point to the device lying on a cloth between us—“too much to stay away. By the time he realizes it’s me, he’ll see I have the device and he’ll start negotiating.”
Her laugh is bitter. “He doesn’t negotiate, Logan. He executes.”
“Which is why I’ll be the one taking the risk. Just in case.”
“I can handle it.”
Of course she can. But I can’t handle it if it all goes wrong, and I have to watch her die.
“I need you to call the Cursed One for me. I need you to stay out of sight and use Melkin’s staff to call the beast before the Commander takes the device from me.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect. We take revenge on the Commander, and all I get to do is shove a stick into the ground? No. I promised Oliver and Dad I would kill him. I’m not going back on that.”
“And I promised I would always protect you. So—”
“So use Melkin’s stick in time to call the Cursed One before—”
“No!”
“I have to kill him. I have to. It’s the only way I’ll have peace.”
She’s shaking. Maybe we both are. My emotions are running so high I can hardly think straight. I can’t allow Rachel to take the risk, but if I don’t, I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me.
Best Case Scenario: She evades any treachery on the Commander’s part and remembers which combination of finger pads controls the Cursed One so she can turn the beast against him without dying herself.
Worst Case Scenario: Everything else.
Unless …
“I don’t think the Commander knows what the device looks like.”
“What makes you say that?” she asks.
“Did Melkin know exactly what he was looking for?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I can guarantee if the Commander ever had the opportunity to see this thing in person, he’d already own it and the person who’d shown it to him would be dead.”
“Agreed.”
“So, at best, he only has a general idea of what it looks like.”
Her smile looks more like a snarl. “So make a duplicate.”
“And you can hold the real one while you hide. I’ll keep Melkin’s staff so my disguise looks more authentic.”
“And when the Cursed One comes, I’ll kill the Commander.”
“Yes.” I pull her to me so I won’t have to see the vicious fury on her face and hope that by giving her what she so desperately wants, I haven’t destroyed more of the girl I love.
We unstring Rachel’s bow and use the lightweight black wood to mimic the design of the device. I still have copper wires hidden in the seams of my cloak, and after dismantling her Switch to get to the gears inside, I make a passable imitation of the Rowansmark tech. The wires are obvious, and it has gears instead of finger pads, but it looks like a piece of workable tech, and that’s all we need.
We go over the plan, in detail, three more times until Rachel refuses to discuss it again. I don’t push the issue. Pulling her against me, I wrap myself around her and listen to her breathe as the darkness hides the device, the terrible fury in her eyes, and the evidence that this may be our last night together.
Her breathing slows, an even cadence that comforts me. I brush my lips against her ear and whisper promises I’ll die to keep.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
RACHEL
Dawn is a faint, gray smudge on the horizon as we reach the ancient oak marking the line between Baalboden’s eastern perimeter and the Wasteland. Logan hunches inside his cloak, his hood pulled forward to cover most of his face. The fake Rowansmark tech is in one hand and Melkin’s staff is in the other.
I stay back several trees, the true device in my cloak pocket and a brilliant blaze of triumphant rage warming me from the inside out.
We’ve gone over the plan, the list of everything Logan worries can go wrong, and both of us are as ready as we can be. We might die. The whole thing might blow up in our faces, and we might fail. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re here. Standing against him. Committed to delivering justice, no matter what it costs.
Quinn smiles. “We’ll camp here for several days. See how it goes in Baalboden. We can decide what to do at the end of the week.” His eyes are still on Rachel.
She smiles back. “Good. Once the Commander is gone, we’ll see about finding you and Willow a place. There are plenty of trees in Baalboden.”
My smile feels stretched thin as I say, “Thank you for helping Rachel and for assisting me. I won’t forget it.” I stand and shake Quinn’s outstretched hand. His eyes flick toward me, and then he looks once more at Rachel, nods, and backs out of the clearing to take the first night watch.
I bank the fire and sit beside Rachel to talk though our plan one last time. I’ve barely started running scenarios when she interrupts.
“You’re not tall enough to pass as Melkin.”
It’s the same argument she’s been using for hours now.
“I’m tall enough. Plus, only Melkin knew the signal to give.”
“Only Melkin and his wife. Who was next to you in the dungeon. You don’t think the Commander might be expecting you to show up like this?”
She has a point, but since the only other recourse is to let her face the Commander herself, I keep arguing.
“It doesn’t matter what he expects. He wants this”—I point to the device lying on a cloth between us—“too much to stay away. By the time he realizes it’s me, he’ll see I have the device and he’ll start negotiating.”
Her laugh is bitter. “He doesn’t negotiate, Logan. He executes.”
“Which is why I’ll be the one taking the risk. Just in case.”
“I can handle it.”
Of course she can. But I can’t handle it if it all goes wrong, and I have to watch her die.
“I need you to call the Cursed One for me. I need you to stay out of sight and use Melkin’s staff to call the beast before the Commander takes the device from me.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect. We take revenge on the Commander, and all I get to do is shove a stick into the ground? No. I promised Oliver and Dad I would kill him. I’m not going back on that.”
“And I promised I would always protect you. So—”
“So use Melkin’s stick in time to call the Cursed One before—”
“No!”
“I have to kill him. I have to. It’s the only way I’ll have peace.”
She’s shaking. Maybe we both are. My emotions are running so high I can hardly think straight. I can’t allow Rachel to take the risk, but if I don’t, I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me.
Best Case Scenario: She evades any treachery on the Commander’s part and remembers which combination of finger pads controls the Cursed One so she can turn the beast against him without dying herself.
Worst Case Scenario: Everything else.
Unless …
“I don’t think the Commander knows what the device looks like.”
“What makes you say that?” she asks.
“Did Melkin know exactly what he was looking for?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I can guarantee if the Commander ever had the opportunity to see this thing in person, he’d already own it and the person who’d shown it to him would be dead.”
“Agreed.”
“So, at best, he only has a general idea of what it looks like.”
Her smile looks more like a snarl. “So make a duplicate.”
“And you can hold the real one while you hide. I’ll keep Melkin’s staff so my disguise looks more authentic.”
“And when the Cursed One comes, I’ll kill the Commander.”
“Yes.” I pull her to me so I won’t have to see the vicious fury on her face and hope that by giving her what she so desperately wants, I haven’t destroyed more of the girl I love.
We unstring Rachel’s bow and use the lightweight black wood to mimic the design of the device. I still have copper wires hidden in the seams of my cloak, and after dismantling her Switch to get to the gears inside, I make a passable imitation of the Rowansmark tech. The wires are obvious, and it has gears instead of finger pads, but it looks like a piece of workable tech, and that’s all we need.
We go over the plan, in detail, three more times until Rachel refuses to discuss it again. I don’t push the issue. Pulling her against me, I wrap myself around her and listen to her breathe as the darkness hides the device, the terrible fury in her eyes, and the evidence that this may be our last night together.
Her breathing slows, an even cadence that comforts me. I brush my lips against her ear and whisper promises I’ll die to keep.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
RACHEL
Dawn is a faint, gray smudge on the horizon as we reach the ancient oak marking the line between Baalboden’s eastern perimeter and the Wasteland. Logan hunches inside his cloak, his hood pulled forward to cover most of his face. The fake Rowansmark tech is in one hand and Melkin’s staff is in the other.
I stay back several trees, the true device in my cloak pocket and a brilliant blaze of triumphant rage warming me from the inside out.
We’ve gone over the plan, the list of everything Logan worries can go wrong, and both of us are as ready as we can be. We might die. The whole thing might blow up in our faces, and we might fail. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re here. Standing against him. Committed to delivering justice, no matter what it costs.
