Chapter
3

Cohen

“GO ON, TELL US,” FINN BLURTS.

I shoot Finn a look. He tucks his lips in and leans back against the barn.

Scratching my scar, I give the girl a once-over. She’s Britta’s age, give or take a year. Though she’s a tad shorter than Britt, her shoulders square in the same confident, seasoned way. She’s been trained to fight. Her grip on the sword’s hilt, loose but sure, is a sign she knows how to wield the weapon. This girl makes the ache of missing my girl swell.

Finn whispers something awestruck about this girl being the Archtraitor’s daughter. I ignore him and turn back to Lirra. “How can we trust you?”

Her smile creeps up. “You got any other options?” Her Shaerdanian accent makes the words sound like a song.

“We could leave.”

“And go where? Word’s probably spread to the coast about you two. Any Shaerdanian who figures out where you’re from will bludgeon you before they talk to you.”

“I’ve friends.”

“Not here.” She sheathes her sword.

I crack my knuckles against my dagger. That’s the truth.

“What do you propose? You give me information. Then what?”

Finn pops up at my side before she answers. “I’m Cohen’s brother.” He thrusts out his hand.

“Finn,” I warn.

After their handshake, he gives me a sheepish smile. He deserves a chewing out for letting his guard down so easily. I bite my tongue for now. It’ll come after we ditch her.

“Last I saw you was in Celize. What are you doing this far south?” I ask.

Her gaze slants down and to the left. “Looking for you.”

I don’t need to have Britta’s Spiriter ability to know she’s hiding something. “That so?”

She shrugs.

There’s no time for this. I’m bloody tired of games. If I have to knock on every door in Rasimere Crossing and fight every kinsman who thinks I’m a spy or a kidnapper, I’ll do it. “Give your pa my regards. Let’s go, Finn.” I walk along the shadowed edge of the barn, eyeing the patch of forest for Siron.

“Where are you going?” the Archtraitor’s daughter calls after me.

Finn rushes to my side, throwing a glance over his shoulder, confusion wrinkling his forehead. “Cohen, what if she can help?”

“Then she’d be helping. Not pestering.”

Lirra scrambles around us and thrusts out her hand to touch the barn slats, barricading me.

“I’m looking for someone, as well. Two weeks ago, my friend Orli was taken. I’ve been trying to figure out where.”

“By whom?”

“Obviously, I don’t know. Thus, our conversation.” Her hand flicks between us.

This girl’s got the prickles of a cactus.

“Perhaps she left. Wanted to go somewhere else.”

“Girls just don’t go missing.”

“Seems like they do lately.”

Her nose scrunches up. “Are you always this difficult? I know you’ve heard the rumors.” When my brows shoot up, she smirks. “I could teach you a thing or two about stealth.”

Finn laughs, and I glare at him before turning the same look on Lirra.

“Three girls in this county alone have been taken. Word is, a nobleman from Malam is to blame. Even if the rumor’s twisted a little, every man and woman in Shaerdan is going to be looking out for Malamians.”

She’s got a point.

Lirra crosses her arms and drops her shoulder against the wall. Some of the sun-crusted green paint chips off the barn onto her orange dress. “Thing is, I want to find my friend, and if your king was wise, he’d want to find out if the rumors have merit. Wouldn’t take much more to fan the embers of the almost war. Far as I can see, things between Shaerdan and Malam are still smoking.”

“The king doesn’t put much weight on rumors,” I tell her. Mostly I say it because I don’t want to consider spending any more time away from Brentyn, even though there’s no forgetting that I serve the crown. I’ve sworn an oath to uphold the king’s command and the good of Malam.

But a rumor isn’t just cause to launch another manhunt. The thing with rumors is they run as straight and true as creeping weeds.

“Anything else?” I ask.

Lirra dusts the barn scrapings off her shoulder. “Aye. Orli didn’t return from doing her barn chores. By the evening, her family started to worry. She just disappeared.”

“That’s if someone actually took Orli.” I cross my arms.

“Your skepticism is obnoxious.” She stares hard at the barn before turning back to me.

“Your pa in town?”

That small flicker of a frown quirks her lips before it’s replaced by a shrug. “Pa’s not much of a traveler.”

Lirra’s avoidance kicks my irritation up three notches.

“Neither’s our ma,” Finn adds, which is true. But not needed right now.

“You’ve come all this way from Celize on your own.” I slap Finn’s hand away from picking at the peeling paint. He gives me a wounded look. “Why do you need my help now?”

“I suspect Orli’s been taken to Malam. It’s illegal for me to cross the border. If I make it past your border guards, I would then have to worry about someone in Malam tagging me as a Shaerdanian. If that happens, I might as well sign my death certificate. So I propose a trade.” She scoots back and flicks a bug off her skirt fold. “I’ll tell you where Phelia is, then you keep me safe in Malam until we’ve found Orli.”

“That all?” She wants a bodyguard and tracker for the price of a location? Horse dung.

She nods.

I laugh and her eyes narrow.

“I’m taking Phelia to Malam as soon as I catch her. Got no time to babysit a Shaerdanian girl.”

“If you don’t find Phelia soon, she’ll be on the move again. You’ll be back to the chase. You’ve been through enough towns over the last few weeks to be noticed. Soon enough you’re going to walk into a trap. Maybe very soon.”

Her tone says more than her words. Says that she knows something real and dangerous. I realize I’ve clamped my hand over my belt. I slide my grip to my dagger. “And what sort of trap might that be?”

She props her hands on her hips. “A group of kinsmen wait in the next town over. Phelia’s been slowly leading you there.”

“How do you know this? Your father?”

A nod.

Fair enough. The Archtraitor of Malam has a powerful underground of informants.

A wide river snakes across the plains east of Rasimere Crossing. Sighing, I let my gaze rest on the horizon past the water’s curves, wishing the Malamian Mountains that lead to Britta’s home were in sight.

“Cohen, the thing is, I need your help.” Lirra edges closer. “I can track better than my pa. I can read a person in a blink and know half their life story. But I’ve never been into Malam. I wouldn’t know my way. And I’d more than likely get caught.”

I look at her boot moving around in the dirt and recognize the gesture as unease. “What does your father think of you going into Malam after Orli?”

Her mouth tightens. “He doesn’t know. Orli’s in danger. I couldn’t sit around and wait. I’m good at finding out information. All I need is a little muscle on my side.”

Finn clears his throat and puffs up his chest.

I shove his shoulder and Lirra cracks a smile.

Taking the Archtraitor’s daughter into Malam could spell trouble for me later. I don’t like the idea much, but I admire her courage and drive. I let out a breath. “You really think she’s in Malam?”

She nods at the distant hills.

Finn snorts. “No Malamian man would kidnap Shaerdanian girls and take them into Malam. It’s too risky to get them across the border. Besides, we got pretty-enough girls of our own.”

“They’re not taking them to make them their wives.” She rolls her eyes.

“Why, then?”

I don’t hush Finn because I’m curious too.

“Every single girl who’s been taken is some sort of Channeler. They’re stealing them to use their gifts.”

Her words take a beat to sink in. “Magic is outlawed in Malam.” A woman accused of being a Channeler is thrown in the pillory or the dungeon, before eventually being burned. The trail of thoughts puts a rock in my gut.

“Why else would they gather large numbers together?”

“You think the person taking all the girls is making some sort of magical army? To fight against what?” I try not to look at her like she’s scattered her sense in the wind. I fail.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. We answer that, and we’ll find Orli.”

Finn moves into the barn’s shade. His jaw is hung wide open like he’s auditioning to be a bug catcher. I elbow him and turn back to face her. “Did you come to this theory on your own?”

She shakes her head. “My pa did.”

“Because an informant told him?”

“Because he once had the same idea. After he crossed into Shaerdan to hide from the king’s guard, he thought about forming a Channeler army in retaliation. Malam has more weapons, more soldiers, and strongholds that are difficult to penetrate. But they have no defense against a magical attack.”

I imagine the need for vengeance Millner must’ve felt after the murder of his wife and child. Don’t know what I’d do if I lost Britta.

If the girls are linked to a greater threat, it’s my duty to the crown to look into it.

Still, something doesn’t add up. “Why would they be taking Shaerdanian girls into Malam?” I ask. “Wouldn’t they keep them and fortify their army here?”

She shakes her head. “That’s what we need to find out. You’re right. It doesn’t make sense, but no matter, if the kidnapping of Shaerdanian girls continues, it may be the push Judge Auberdeen needs to send both our kingdoms back to war.”

Her words ring true in a way that sends a chill deep into my bones.

“You have a deal.” I thrust out my hand. “You help me. I’ll find your girl and the rest of the girls. And I’ll figure out what threat Malam is truly facing.”