I barely have time to adjust my grip before he kicks his heels and we’re racing at breakneck speed through the forest. It’s less thick here, but there’re still too many trees, and I can’t clearly see the path he’s taking. I rest my cheek against his back and force my eyes closed.
When we finally slow, I open my eyes and gasp. Twinkling lights clutter the forest before me. Small flames burn in the distance. My chest constricts. I probably won’t come away from this place unscathed.
Or alive.
Devlan’s hand clasps mine. “Time to unhorse.” He helps me down first before he jumps off. Grabbing the reins, he turns toward me. “Take out your dagger.”
“Here?” I glance around. It’s farther into the forest than I’ve ever been. Most likely on the outskirts of Karm, close to the barrier. I widen my eyes at him. “Are you sure that’s wise? Won’t I be attacked walking into a camp full of armed Rebels carrying a weapon?”
His lips curl up on one side. “For once, just do as I say.” He starts walking toward the camp.
I scramble to unsheathe my dagger and hold it against my thigh, tucked under my forearm. I don’t want to be shot with an arrow or impaled by a sword as soon as I enter, so I keep it hidden.
Brown tents scatter the wooded area and campfires burn low, their embers lighting the camp in an eerie glow. Smoke and earth and the faint scent of jasmine fill the air. I swallow hard as we near the grounds, my throat thick and scratchy from the chill ride. It’s far too quiet. My senses go on high alert.
A snap sounds from behind us.
“State your order,” a deep voice says.
Devlan freezes. “Silas, it’s me, Devlan. Do I really have to recite that long-ass number?” He turns around, a wide smile on his face. A similar smile to the one he wore as he held me in the mud.
I slowly turn and face the man with the booming voice. He’s so tall that I have to angle my head uncomfortably to see his face. He’s bald and has a long white scar carving the side of his face. He wears dark clothing, masking him against the night.
Silas laughs. “Well, Devlan. Damn, son. What are you doing here?” He slaps Devlan’s back. “You know, I thought you abandoned us. Micah didn’t inform me—” He cuts off sharply as his gaze finds me. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“Zara,” Devlan says. “Please show Silas your dagger.”
Sweat beads across my brow. I’m about to do the stupidest thing—pull out a weapon on this giant man. I shakily extend my hand, revealing my father’s dagger. I lay it flat in my palm, hilt pointed out, so it doesn’t look like I intend to use it.
Silas’s eyes widen. “That crazy bitch.”
I’m taken aback, nearly dropping the dagger to the forest floor. Is he implying I’m a…? Before I finish the thought, Devlan says, “Yeah, Micah was. Imagine my surprise when I discovered it.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I need to speak with Fallon.”
Silas nods. “I think she’ll be interested in this development.” He waves his hand before us, ushering us forward.
I’m erupting with questions, wanting to demand knowledge of what they’re talking about, but I clamp my mouth shut. I have to be wise and figure out this scenario without getting myself deeper in the mess I’ve landed in.
We head toward a tent in the middle of the camp. Silas pulls back the flap, and suddenly, my feet won’t take me another step farther. I’m rigid with fear. Devlan moves beside me. “Zara, I promised that no one would harm you.” He takes my hand. “You have to trust me.”
I look down at our joined hands. I don’t trust him. I barely know him, and what I do know has proven that he isn’t really trustworthy. But I’ve come too far, have too many questions to stop now, and I don’t have a choice. I’m in the middle of a secret Rebel encampment with nowhere to run.
I step into the tent.
Candles burn low on a desk to my right. A girl stands in the center of the tent, dressed all in black, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. Her face is partially shadowed, but she looks familiar. I squint, trying to recall where I’ve seen her before.
Silas nods to Devlan. “Fallon, the first knight has graced us with his presence.” He looks at Devlan. “A surprise appearance.”
“Devlan,” the girl says. “It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.” She beams at him, and suddenly I recall where I’ve seen her. The girl in the cream dress from my betrothal celebration. I suck in a sharp breath.
“Fallon.” Devlan nods once, dipping his head low. “Likewise to you. Sorry circumstances were as such we couldn’t meet properly at the betrothal.” He pulls me alongside him, bringing me before her. “This is Princess Zara.” He takes the dagger out of my other hand. “And I trust you know what this is.”
Her dark eyes go wide. “How is that possible?” She shakes her head. “Micah knew…she had to have…” She slams her hand on the desk and I flinch. “Dammit.” She looks down at her desk for a moment, then raises her eyes to me. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing we changed the mission.”
Really? She supposes it’s a good thing they didn’t kill me? What have I gotten myself into? What is it about my father’s dagger that causes so much interest? I’m nearly ready to pull at my hair and demand to know when Fallon looks at Devlan and says, “That doesn’t explain what she’s doing here, though.”
Devlan clears his throat, and Silas closes the tent flap. My nerves are about to consume me. I finally work up the courage to speak. “I would like to know the same.” I turn to Devlan.
“Well?” Fallon prompts. “Before we’re raided by the Force to take back the princess.”