Lee’s trials

Towards the light

*Thalia*

For a moment, the only sounds are rain and the faint creak of the alder roots around us.

Lee turns the mirror over in his hand.

"My father might not know me," he says.

I look at him.

The words have pulled all the color from his face.

"He might," I say.

"He might not."

"It is a possibility."

His eyes shut.

Outside, a guard calls from the riverbank. "Check the old shed again."

We have no time for fear to become a conversation.

I squeeze Lee's hand once, then release it so I can crawl backward through the alder roots.

"Come on," I whisper. "We have a cabin to reach."

He follows.

The guards have left the shed door open. Pale lantern light spills across the wet floorboards. One of them stands near the lockers, sorting through the supplies we did not take. Another has gone outside, his boots sucking in the mud.

We slip through the gap in the rear wall and into the trees.

The forest beyond Larkspur is not like Eirawen's forest.

Eirawen grows with intention. Its paths curve where elves want them. Its trees have been shaped into balconies and bridges, their roots guided beneath stone streets. This place is wilder. Alder, willow, birch, and thorn crowd the riverbank in a damp, tangled mass. Fallen branches catch at my clothes. The ground gives way under patches of wet leaves.

It feels better.

Not safe. Better.

Lee stays close behind me. Every few steps, he looks back toward the shed. His body is wound tight, ready to turn around at the first sign of danger.

I lead us away from the river, following the slope upward.

"Your shoulder?" he whispers.

"It still belongs to me."

"That was not the question."

I sigh and admit, "It hurts."

He makes a frustrated sound.

"Please do not start," I say.

"I'm not starting anything."

"You have the tone."

"What tone?"

"The one where you decide you are responsible for my bones."

He nearly smiles. "Your bones are very concerning."

"Thank you."

A branch cracks behind us.

We both stop.

The rain has softened to a thin mist. Water drips from the leaves in slow, uneven taps. Somewhere near the river, a horse snorts.

Lee draws me behind the trunk of a birch, putting himself in front of me.

The bark is pale and wet against my back. His body presses close in front of mine, shielding me from the open woods. He smells like rain, cedar, and the sharp mint salve from my shoulder.

Two guards move between the trees below.

Their lanterns paint weak circles over the mud.

"They cannot have gone far," says one.

"Captain says they may be heading for the road."

"The road is watched."

"Then they are in the forest."

Lee's hand settles at my waist.

It is meant to steady me. It does. His palm is warm through my shirt.

The guards pass close enough that I see rain dripping from the edge of one man's hood. His spear is held loosely in his hand. He looks tired.

"We should have searched the boat shed before the alarm," the other mutters.

"You want to tell the Regent that?"

"No."

"Then stop talking."

They move on.

I wait until their lantern light disappears.

Lee does not move right away.

His thumb presses once against my side.

"You all right?" he whispers.

The question is so ordinary that it nearly breaks something in me.

"No," I say.

He pulls back enough to see my face.

"No?" he repeats.

"I am wet. I have a bruise on my shoulder. Your uncle wants us arrested. Your grandfather may be dying. Your father may be bleeding under an awning in Queens and not know his own name."

His eyes hold mine.

"And," I say, quieter now, "I am still here."

His mouth softens.

He touches my cheek with the backs of his fingers. "I know."

"Good. Keep knowing it."

"I will."

This time, he says it slowly, before leaning in to kiss me softly, lingering.

Then he takes my hand, and we move uphill.

The railway tracks appear through the trees twenty minutes later.

They cut across the slope on a raised bed of black gravel, two silver lines disappearing into the mist. No train has passed in years. Moss grows between the sleepers. Brambles have curled over one side of the embankment.

A stone culvert opens beneath the tracks, narrow and dark.

"We're close," Lee says.

A sharp whistle sounds behind us.

Not a bird.

The guards have found our trail.

Lee looks toward the culvert.

I look at the tracks.

"Go," I say.

We scramble up the embankment instead.

Loose gravel slides under my boots. My shoulder screams when I catch myself on one hand. Lee reaches the top first and turns, grabbing my forearm. He hauls me up just as lantern light flickers through the trees below.

A thin metal cable runs beside the tracks, fastened to old wooden posts.

Lee sees it too.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"That Kieran said there was a signal cabin."

"Yes."

"And a signal cabin needs a line."

He follows the cable north along the tracks.

I run after him.

The forest drops away on one side, steep and dark. On the other, wet grass lashes at my legs. Behind us, guards shout near the culvert.

"There!"

A blue bolt of magic cracks through the mist.

It strikes the rail beside Lee's foot.

Metal shrieks. Blue sparks spit across the gravel.

He stumbles.

I grab the back of his coat and pull him down behind the embankment as another bolt cuts over us.

"Unharmed," I mutter. "They are doing a terrible job."

Lee is breathing hard.

"They are trying to disable us."

"That is supposed to help?"

"It makes sense if Fileas wants the compass intact."

The words settle heavily between us.

He pushes himself upright, then reaches into his coat and takes out the compass.

The brass casing has been dented at one edge. The glass is cracked.

For one awful second, the needle spins.

Then it jerks west.

Lee lets out a breath.

"Still working," he says.

The cable beside us begins to hum.

At first I think it is from the spell bolts. Then a pale silver light runs along the wire from the north, quick as moonlight over water.

Lee looks up.

Far ahead, through the mist, a small building flashes white.

The signal cabin.

Ari's magic reaches it before she does.

"Run," Lee says.

So we run toward the light.