Grey must hear the encouraging note in my voice, because he looks over and catches a glimpse of Tycho’s expression. “If there were steamed crabs at the end, you’d be running for them,” he says.

A weary grin breaks through Tycho’s melancholy. “I’d beat you there.”

“Can we please not talk about food?” says Jacob.

We all fall back into silence. Grey staggers as he steps over a fallen tree, but he catches himself with a hand against another trunk. He makes no sound, but it takes him a moment before he can press on.

I’ve reached a point where I can’t tell if this is strength or stubbornness.

“Can you not use magic to heal yourself?” I say to him. “I have heard stories of the magesmiths—”

“I cannot use magic at all.”

Tycho glances over. “You used magic to free us.” He pauses, then glances at me. “And—and at Worwick’s.”

“At Worwick’s, I had an enchanted bracelet. At Ironrose …” He sighs. “I have no idea what happened at Ironrose.”

“Maybe we should beat the crap out of you again and see what happens,” says Jacob.

Grey gives him a level look. “Try.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Noah snaps.

“Must you men make everything about violence?” I say. “Not every problem can be solved by the edge of a sword.”

“Your mother surely thinks so.” Grey looks at me, and his eyes are hard. “Not every problem can be solved by the tongue in your mouth, either.”

The words are not suggestive, but I flush anyway. Even wounded and limping, with sweat and blood sticking his shirt to his body, he is so unyielding. I miss the easy banter of Sorra and Parrish. Easy banter that I’ll never hear again, due to my choices. Due to their misplaced loyalty. I longed to be queen, but Mother made the right choice in naming Nolla Verin.

My throat is tightening, so I shake these thoughts away before they can get the better of me. “I have offered to help you,” I say. “I am not your enemy.”

“You are an enemy to Emberfall,” he says. “You are a threat to the Crown.”

Now I see. This is the former guardsman speaking. I hold his gaze. “So are you.”

He sets his jaw and says nothing.

We hear the rush of water long before we see it flowing between trees at a rapid clip. The waterway is wider than I expect, at least twenty feet across, with occasional shallow pools where water has collected along the banks.

Tycho all but drops to his knees in the muddy bank and thrusts his hands into the flowing water, scooping it to his lips.

“We should boil it first,” says Noah, but the rest of us are already following suit.

I don’t recognize my thirst until the cool water touches my lips. Even locked in my room at Ironrose Castle, I still had access to food and water. I cannot remember a time where I’ve gone all day without sustenance. I’m slurping from my hands like an animal, but I still can’t get enough.

A hand closes on my arm. “Slow,” says Grey, and for the first time his voice isn’t harsh, only tired. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

I wonder if this is an attempt to ease the tension between us, but when I look up, he’s already moving away. Jacob begins collecting branches to form a pile. I dry my hands on my breeches and follow him, gathering twigs and dried leaves for kindling. He glances at me in surprise. “Hey. Thanks.”

“You are surprised I would help?”

He smiles sheepishly, and it makes him look very much like his sister. There’s a hardness hidden under the expression, an edge that Harper lacks, but no deceitfulness or guile. I wonder at the vitriol between him and Grey.

“From what I know of royalty,” Jacob says, “yeah, I am.”

“You are royalty, too, are you not?”

His eyes shutter and turn unreadable. “Where I come from, if we want something done, we do it ourselves.”

By the time we have a fire going, dusk has thrown long shadows across the stream and brought a cool breeze to wind through the trees. Somewhere in the branches above, a bird of prey screeches a warning. The silence among us is not easy or companionable. My stomach aches for food, but we have none.

“I have silver,” Jacob says to Grey. “I could walk into town.”

“Is a town close? I could go, too,” I offer. “We could pretend to be a married couple traveling together.”

Grey’s dark eyes find mine. “The farther north we travel, the more the people of Emberfall have seen invaders from Syhl Shallow. Your accent would give you away.” He glances at Jacob. “And yours would paint you as an outsider.”

“So what? You think they’re going to send word to Rhen that one random guy showed up with a weird accent?”

“The prince has offered a bounty of five hundred silvers. If you think people are not looking for bodies to sacrifice to the Crown, you are wrong indeed.”

Jacob looks like he’s about to retort, but Tycho says, “The enforcers executed a man in Rillisk.” His expression is tense. “They didn’t even have proof.”

Jacob shuts his mouth.

Grey shifts his weight, then grimaces. The pink streaks on his shirt have turned to red, but he’s turned down any ministrations. “You do not want to walk into a strange city after dark. Not now.”

At his side, Tycho sighs. “I’d give almost anything for a platter of Jodi’s crabs right now.”

Grey’s smile is grim. “I’d give anything for a bow and a dozen arrows.”

Jacob tips his head back and stares at the sky. “I’d give anything for a burger with everything from Chewie’s.”

“Oh yes.” Noah laughs, the sound low and warm, indicating a shared memory.

I smile, charmed. “What is a burger?”

I expect them to lean in and explain, but instead their expressions close off the way Jacob’s did when we were gathering firewood.

“Nothing we’ll ever see again,” says Jacob. “Unless Grey can get us home.”

I study him and consider Mother’s suspicions about Disi, and the way Harper did not carry herself with the manner of a ruler—nor does Jacob. When we were debating where to find sanctuary, no one ever mentioned Disi as a place we’d be safe. Not even Princess Harper. There was no mention of assistance from the King of Disi in managing Emberfall’s political unrest—and no mention of their alliance being at risk if Rhen was not the rightful heir.

Unless Grey can get us home.

My eyes flash to Grey’s. “Disi can only be reached by magic.”

He stares back at me, his expression inscrutable.

Now that I’ve found a thread to pull, it all begins to unravel. “That is why there are no forces to lend support. They are trapped in Disi.”

Grey’s dark eyes give away nothing, but Jacob looks abashed. Noah looks resigned.

Tycho looks fascinated.

“Are there forces at all?” I say, with a glance at Grey. “An army waiting on your magic?”

He says nothing.

But that says everything.

I blow a breath out between my teeth. Overhead, the bird of prey screeches again. “Quite the story your prince has told his people.”