* * * *
The rebellion dragged on for five long
months. In that time, I fought alongside Ceryane, the battle fever
high in my blood. Most nights I slept deeply, exhausted from
fighting. But sometimes I would lie awake, the soft crackling of a
dying fire the only sound, and think of Makena. I wondered where
she was, if she had found the Warrior within herself yet, if she
had joined the rebellion and waited for me in the next town, around
the next bend. I could see her auburn hair in the turning leaves of
autumn, and I had to stop whenever I thought I heard her laugh.
But she wasn’t in the next town, or the one
after that, and I almost forgot I looked for her when we finally
reached the palace gates. Rumors ran through the rebel camp, rumors
that the prince had poisoned the Marlean queen and only awaited our
combined forces before attempting to overthrow his father and
assume the throne. Layna’s death had been avenged many times over,