“That’s settled, then,” he muttered. “I know you told Estral you didn’t want to see me, but I couldn’t just leave things this way with you heading over the wall tomorrow morning.”

It was, she thought, a little late for that.

The platform groaned as he knelt down and she felt him lean against the edge of her cot. She did not turn over to face him.

“I was right,” he said. “You are in love with someone else. Don’t blame Estral, but I finally wrangled from her who it is.”

“She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!” Now Karigan felt doubly betrayed.

“She told me hoping it could help.”

“So, are you satisfied? Did you hear what you wanted? That I’m a complete fool?”

“You are generally stubborn, and a lion when it comes to trouble—both finding it and handling it—but you are most definitely not a fool. The king is fortunate to have your loyalty. And your love.” Then as an afterthought, he added, “Self-pity, however, does not become you.”

Karigan whirled over on her cot. “Self pity? You’re judging me? I should—I should knock you over.”

Alton laughed softly. “You already did that, remember?”

Karigan crossed her arms and scowled. His words stung. Yes, she was sulking, but wasn’t she entitled to a little self-pity once in a while?

He stroked her hair away from her face and his touch at once startled and thrilled her in an unexpected way, but remorse rushed in with her knowledge that Alton was lost to her. She turned her back to him again.

“Leave,” she said.

“But I’d—”

“You are not making this any better.”

Silence, then the easing of his weight off the cot as he stood. “Karigan,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I did love you. Still do. I had wanted us to be—”

“Leave.”

Again, the silence and hesitation, then footsteps as Alton left.

She had not been able to give him what he wanted when he needed it, and now the tables were turned and here she was alone on her last night before entering a nightmare.

EQUINOX

Karigan and her fellow Riders set off in the predawn dark from the tower encampment and rode toward the breach. They were all of them quiet. Even Yates was subdued, the loudest noises the hoof falls and snorts of their horses.

Karigan had slept surprisingly well after all the night’s turmoil. She’d been emotionally wrung out, and perhaps sleep had provided a refuge. In sleep, she could forget.

Now she rode beside Ard at the end of the line while Alton and Estral led. She’d spoken little to them as they readied to leave. She could tell her reticence hurt them. As the group of riders neared the main encampment, the sky grayed as the sun began to creep above the horizon—not that she could see the horizon with the wall to one side and the deep woods to the other.

They found the area before the breach ablaze with lanterns and bonfires, and what must have been the entire population of the encampment collected there, a disproportionate horde facing the handful of Eletians in their unmistakable pearlescent armor. Neither side held weapons pointed at the other, but as Karigan neared, she discerned the grim faces of the Sacoridians. Even without weapons drawn, they appeared ready for conflict at the merest spark.

The Eletians and soldiers both looked up at the party’s arrival, relief plain on the faces of the latter. With the Eletians, it was not so easy to tell their thoughts.

Alton halted Night Hawk and swung out of the saddle to greet the Eletians, but they strode right by him and made directly for Karigan instead.

“Ah, Galadheon,” Graelalea said. “You’ve arrived finally.”

Everyone looked at Karigan. Startled to suddenly be the center of attention, she hastily dismounted and found herself face to face with Graelalea. The two gazed at one another at length.

“It is the equinox,” the Eletian finally said. “Are your people ready?”

Before Karigan could answer, a scowling Grant shoved his way in beside them. “I am Lieutenant Grant,” he said, “commander of this mission.”

Graelalea ignored him, did not even seem to perceive his existence. “Who are the ones that will be accompanying us?” she asked Karigan.

By now Alton and Estral had joined them as well. Karigan felt caught in a vise between the Eletians and her own people. She could practically feel Grant’s glower burning into her. Even Condor poked his nose over her shoulder to view the proceedings. It felt odd to have Graelalea deferring to her when their very first meeting during the summer had been less than amicable, and Graelalea anything but deferential.

“To start with,” she replied, “I should introduce Alton D’Yer who oversees the work here to mend the wall.”

Graelalea finally deigned to acknowledge him with a nod. “A difficult undertaking, if not impossible, for the wall is a thing of good and evil, built with good intentions, but constructed in evil ways.”

Alton bristled at her words. It was his ancestors who had built the wall and her words could be construed as an insult, but to Karigan’s relief, he held his tongue.

“This is Graelalea,” she said hastily. “The sister of Eletia’s crown prince.”

“Welcome to D’Yer Province,” Alton said.

“This was once the north region of Argenthyne,” Graelalea said, “before it was infringed upon by your people and the darkness from Arcosia.”