“Sayen is guarding Prince Ryne. He has many loyal supporters. We were expanding our reach and bringing order to the chaos, but once he sickened, everything stopped. There’s no one else like him.”

“You’re right. No other Realm leader has executed as many prisoners as Prince Ryne.” The words popped from my mouth before I could stop them. I glanced at Kerrick, but he kept his relaxed position by the fire.

“His father ordered all those executions,” Belen said.

“Come on. Everyone knows King Micah was just a figurehead during the six years after his accident. And he died before the plague struck.”

“A figurehead who still had loyal generals despite his erratic behavior. When Micah decided to clean out the dungeons, they followed his orders. By the time word reached Ryne, it was too late.”

Flea started throwing stones to practice juggling. I joined him, glad for an excuse to end the conversation about Ryne.

Except it picked up where we had left off the next night and the following three nights. I had made a mistake in directing my questions to Belen on that first night. He had a sincere honesty that was hard to ignore, and, after getting the topic steered to Ryne, Kerrick let Belen take over the reminiscing.

However, on the fifth night Kerrick took first watch. Belen paced around the campfire and even Flea remained quiet. During the day, I had noticed the strain in Quain’s face and witnessed a couple intense, but private discussions between the men.

“What’s going on?” I finally asked Loren.

He heated water over the tiny fire—all that Kerrick would allow. Loren exchanged a glance with Belen.

“If you’re trying to protect me from bad news, stop it right now. I don’t like secrets,” I said to both of them. “I can’t help if you keep me in the dark.”

“We’ve a couple bands of mercs on our tail,” Belen said.

Having already warned Kerrick of this possibility, I wasn’t surprised. We then played hide-and-seek with the three different groups of mercenaries for the next two days. Our rest breaks shortened until we skipped them altogether. Cold food and a scant few hours of sleep during the day became our new routine.

Kerrick didn’t have to say that the mercs were closing in. I knew from the others. No one smiled. No one spoke more than a few words. No one put their weapons down.

When the sun rose on the third day, Kerrick stopped. We were at the edge of the forest. Spread before us was an abandoned village. A carpet of thick thorny vines had grown over all the wooden structures, obscuring the streets. White, man-size Lilys dotted the greenery. Peace or Death Lilys—it was impossible for anyone to tell them apart.

“Damn. They’ve been herding us like cattle to the slaughterhouse,” Kerrick said.

Belen noticed my confusion. “The mercs knew this was here.” He swept a hand out, indicating the buried village. “They’ve must have coordinated their efforts because the mercs have us boxed in on three sides. The only way we can escape is through the Lilys.”

Fear energized my tired muscles. Too bad it wouldn’t do me any good.

“We’re trapped,” Loren said.

“We’re dead,” Quain said.

Chapter 9

“Those thorns look sharp, but what’s wrong with going through the Lilys?” Flea asked.

“Nothing if they’re all Peace Lilys,” Belen said.

“Unfortunately, there is no way to know if there’s even one Death Lily hiding among them,” Quain said.

I met Kerrick’s gaze. “Did you know this was here?”

“No. The town is outside the forest. Besides, I can’t tell if a Lily is benign or lethal.”

“No one can,” Quain said. “That’s the problem. You don’t know until the flower opens, and by that time it’s, See you later, sister!”

Staring at the barrier, I tried to find a route that would avoid the white flowers. No luck. When we had plenty of workers, they would pull out the new shoots of all the Lily plants before they could grow a flower. With its deep root system that covered miles, eradicating the plant had been a full-time job. The Lilys also grew in unexpected places and the Death Lilys killed the unwary.

“Now what?” Flea asked.

“We stage an ambush of our own. If we move fast enough, we might be able to fight our way through one side and escape,” Kerrick said.

“Not going to work,” Belen said. “Too many of them.”

“I’ll surrender and they shouldn’t hurt the rest of you,” I said.

“No,” Kerrick and Belen said together.

“We’ll take our chances and go through the Lilys,” Kerrick said.

“You’re crazy.” Quain gestured with his knife. “I’d rather take my chances against the mercs.”

“What are the odds?” Loren asked.

“It’s more like a ratio,” Kerrick said. “Approximately one Death Lily for every hundred Peace Lilys.”

Everyone turned to the field. I estimated there were about three hundred Lilys.

“Approximately three Death Lilys,” Kerrick said. “I’ll pick a route with the least number of Lilys and go first. Belen, keep her close to you. You’ll be last. Who wants to go second?”

This was the first time Kerrick asked for volunteers.

“I’ll take second,” Loren said without hesitation.

“Third,” Quain said.

“Then Flea,” Kerrick said. “If one of those flowers so much as twitches, run.”