“That’s not going to work with me either.” Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned in and said, “And tell your father to stop asking Cadell for the same thing. He’s getting cranky. And when Cadell gets cranky . . .”

“I’m very hurt,” she complained.

Caid turned her around by her shoulders and gave her a little push so that she’d keep moving. “No, you’re not. But if you keep asking, you might be more hurt than you or your father would like.”

Instead of being frightened by his stern tone, Keeley simply laughed and continued on.

* * *

Laila stood on the second-floor landing, her arms resting on the banister, and her gaze focused on the floor. She was thinking of their upcoming travels, debating strategies and all the different ways they could get to their destination. There were at least three routes they could use to reach the Witches of Amhuinn, but none of them seemed safe enough.

Since all of them were less than safe, she focused on deciding which would be the fastest.

“There you are,” Laila heard from behind her.

Young Beatrix held out a scroll. Unrolling it, Laila looked it over.

“A map?”

“Yes.” Beatrix pointed. “After some research, I think this way is the safest and fastest.”

“What about—”

“It’s true,” she cut in. “Duke Sangor’s territory is along this route, but he moves his entire household to the outer reaches of his lands from the autumn to winter seasons, which means, at most, we’ll only have to worry about a few guards getting in our way. My sisters can handle them while we keep moving.”

“Uh-huh.”

Beatrix finally looked Laila in the eyes. “I see,” she said. “My eldest sister has convinced you that I’m just a young girl with no sense.”

“Your sister never said—”

“I am young. That is true. But I’m very logical and I’m not about to put myself at risk, now am I?”

But she was willing to put both her eldest sisters in danger if it meant she could get through Sangor’s territories safely.

“Look over the map,” she insisted. “I’m sure you’ll agree with me. But if not, that’s fine too. I just ask you to keep an open mind.” She did something that she probably thought was a smile, but actually looked more like a grimace.

As soon as Beatrix went back to her room and the door closed behind her, Gemma came out of her own room and quickly made her way to Laila’s side.

“What did my sister want?”

“She gave me this map. She suggests we travel this way.”

Gemma snatched the map from Laila’s hand and studied it closely.

“Sangor’s territory,” Gemma muttered. She looked off, eyes narrowing. “He moves his household to his eastern territories in the fall and winter months. That will mean only a few of the guards will be around to protect the main house.”

“That’s what your sister said.”

Shaking her head, Gemma asked, “Why does she know that?”

“I don’t know. She’s your sister.”

“I am well aware that she’s my . . .” Gemma frowned, her focus no longer on Laila. “Now what’s that about?”

Laila looked over the railing to see her brother and Keeley enter from a back hallway. Keeley seemed to have returned to her chatty, comfortable self. Something Laila thought her brother found annoying. And yet, he didn’t appear annoyed. He didn’t exactly seem happy either, but not annoyed.

And he always looked annoyed. She couldn’t think of a time when her brother didn’t look annoyed. Just like their father.

“You know, I can’t . . . I can’t think about this right now.” Laila stepped back from the railing. “It’s just too much.”

“More than too much.” Gemma handed the map back to Laila. “I’m going to bed.”

“You seem more worried than I’d expect a War Monk to be,” Laila said before Gemma could disappear into her room. “Is that because you’re worried about the Devourer catching up with us? The Devourer finding his way here? Or are you worried about your sister being queen?”

Gemma had her hand on the door handle but glanced back at Laila. “Do I have to pick just one?”

CHAPTER 8

“You have to do it,” Keeley told Caid once more.

“I won’t. I refuse.”

The stubborn centaur had his arms crossed over that massive chest of his and his head turned away from her, but he was in his human form, so she wasn’t worried about getting kicked in the head.

“But . . . you can’t refuse,” she said, confused.

“I won’t do it.”

Keeley looked back and forth between the centaur and the horse he refused to ride.

“You do understand,” she clarified, “that we don’t have time to walk to our destination, don’t you?”

“Yes. So I’ll—”

“What? Go as your true self? Even when we pass towns and cities? Does that really make sense to you? We were lucky we made it through the first time, and we didn’t pass any towns on the way here.” She held the reins close to his face. “We don’t have time to argue about this! Get on the fuckin’ horse!”

Growling, Caid snatched the reins from her grasp. “I won’t use that saddle. Just a blanket.”

“Fine. But with you in a kilt, the inside of your thighs will be less than happy over the next few days.”

“Then make it a soft blanket!”

Keeley quickly made herself busy removing the saddle from Brim. A good, solid gelding that was easy to handle and wouldn’t feel the need to compete with a very stallion-like centaur. She kept her head down so Caid wouldn’t see her laughing. She knew he wouldn’t like it.

His sister came out from the castle and stopped when she saw her brother holding Brim’s reins.

“Oh,” she said. “We’re riding them.”

Still laughing, but also fed up, Keeley turned on the female centaur.

“We have no choice! Are you two kidding me?”

“I was just asking!” Laila snapped. “No need to get hysterical.”

“I’m not hysterical. I’m just . . . confused! No one’s asking you two to eat one! Just fucking ride the thing!”

She pulled the saddle off. “This is Brim,” she told Caid. “And that’s Frannie,” she told Laila. “Good, solid horses that will give you no problems as long as you both don’t act like wankers!”

Laila cleared her throat. “Well . . . thank you.”

Samuel rushed out of the stables with three more horses.

“What are you doing?” Keeley asked him.

“My horse and Sir Gemma’s horses.”

“Sir Gemma can take one horse.” She looked at the three who were currently making her life difficult. “Do any of you understand what we’re doing here? We’re not going into battle,” she snapped at Samuel. “And you’re not making a moral statement,” she informed the siblings. “So cut the shit!”

“Gods bless all of you!” Gemma happily announced from the courtyard steps, and it took all of Keeley’s strength not to fling a sword at her. Just on principle.

Instead, she said, “You’re bringing one horse. And why are you wearing those stupid white robes again?”

“You want me to travel as a War Monk? We lose the element of surprise.”

Now Keeley was just extremely annoyed. By everyone. So she pushed her father’s saddle into Samuel’s arms. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” She pointed at Samuel. “We’re not going into battle.” Then the centaurs. “You’re not making a moral statement.” And now her sister. “And we’re not dawdling our way to the Amhuinn Valley where people will have time to notice that you’re a nun, decide to attack, and then shock! ‘Oh, no! She’s a War Monk! Run for your lives!’ What we are doing is riding, with purpose, for long hours a day. We will only stop at night. Then start again before the suns rise. We will do this again and again, until we reach the valley. Does everyone understand? Do I need to make it any clearer?”

When no one said anything, Keeley nodded. “Good. I’ll go get Beatrix.”

“She’s not inside,” Gemma told her, but only when Keeley was halfway up the courtyard steps.

“Then where is she? Did we lose her already?”

“I’m right here,” Beatrix soothed as she swept in through the gates. She wore a lush green velvet gown with a fur cape over her shoulders. Already she seemed . . . royal. Like she was already imagining the crown on her head.

Keeley frowned. “What were you doing out there?”

“Taking a small morning walk. I do it every morning—you know that.”

“No one was hunting you before,” Gemma coldly reminded her.

“I didn’t go far. I would have been able to run back. I just needed to stretch my legs before I get on my horse.”

Keeley reached her sister, brushing her hair off her face. “Sure you weren’t trying to escape? I’d totally understand,” she teased in a whisper.

“Not at all.”

“Then why were you—” Before Keeley could finish, she saw the gray mare go up on her hind legs.

Keeley pushed Beatrix behind her and turned to see Samuel stumble back, her saddle in his arms.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“I was just trying to put your saddle on your horse and—”

Keeley rushed to the gray mare’s side. The horse came down hard, but thankfully hadn’t hit the boy. Putting her hands on the mare’s neck, she stroked her muscles and mane.

“Easy,” she soothed. “Easy.”

With her hands still on the mare, Keeley said, “No one but me is to put a saddle on this horse. Ever. She’s here because she wants to be. She’s not my horse.”