There would be time, she decided. She didn’t have to tell him anything right away. She could see how he acted, see where things went. She could gauge what Akaria was like, assuming they made it there safely. Assuming they would have her. There was so much unknown, so much to discover.

For the first time in all her years, her life was her own to do anything. Anything. Anything at all.

It made her breathless.

Finally, the rock neared. She landed with a skip and a plop, feeling more relieved that she’d made it than she’d like to admit. She carefully released Aven from her talons and then quickly let go of the transformation, setting them totally free, once and for all.

The dizziness twisted her only for a second until she found herself simply sprawled out on the ground, staring up at the autumn leaves and clouds above her, utterly drained. She lay only for a moment, but then excitement forced her to sit up straight.

He lay beside her on the ground, gray-green eyes also staring up at the sky.

“How did you do it!” she demanded. “You freed me.”

He smiled at her, sitting up slowly. He, too, seemed tired. There was blood, she realized, on the right side of his shirt. She hadn’t been paying much attention, had she?

“You’re more hurt than I realized.”

“It’s nothing.” He waved it off.

“Shut up. Take off your shirt.”

He smiled and obliged her. As the shirt came off, she gasped at the sight of the burn marks, as well as one huge burn on his shoulder, the size of the brand. It was fresh, seeping, and clearly painful.

“By the gods, did they—” she started, then stopped, unsure of what to say.

He looked down at it. “They branded me,” he said. “Twice.” He turned and revealed that both his shoulders held the mark. Other burn marks were scattered across him.

“Twice. It didn’t work,” she whispered breathlessly.

He nodded.

“It didn’t work!” she cried.

He grinned at her excitement, gazing up at an angle with those handsome eyes. He turned back to his wounds. “My, that’s ugly. I hadn’t really seen them before,” he said. “The dungeon was dark. Do you think it will frighten women and children?”

She stifled a snicker. “It’s not ugly,” she chided. “You are the first mage to face them and defy them. Don’t you understand? You’ve beaten them at their own game. I think they are the very most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

He muffled his own small laugh but didn’t turn his eyes away from the intensity of her gaze. “Well, they’re not the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said after a moment, grinning.

She blushed and snatched the shirt from his hands. “Give me that. We might need to bandage that for now; I’m not sure I have the strength to heal you without some sleep. Damn thing is filthy, anyway.”

“Well, you know dungeons aren’t known for being the cleanest places.”

“Well, I told you it was a dark place,” she grumbled as she worked. “I told you not to follow me.”

“And I told you we’d find a way out,” he replied, smirking.

She burst into giddy laughter in spite of herself. She kept up her examination of his many wounds.

“It was the star map,” he said. “To answer your first question.”

“But how did you use it? How did you know what to do? My father and I could barely decode it. I would have no idea how to apply it, even after years of study. That’s forbidden magic, you know.” She found a relatively clean bit of shirt and began ripping a few strips from it.

“I didn’t know it was forbidden,” he said, looking thoughtful. “But I guess now we know why, don’t we?” He grinned.

“We sure do.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes, it’s here. I hid it under this rock before I came after you so it wouldn’t end up in their hands.”

“That was very wise.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly my first mission, Aven. Or should I call you my lord? Your Majesty? Something fancy, certainly. What is your proper title, now that you are my ruler and not my captive?”

“What!” he snorted.

“Well, I can’t exactly stay in Kavanar. I thought I would at least come to Akaria and try to live the life of an upstanding citizen. Of course, kidnapping a king—”

“A prince!”

“—is not exactly a minor offense, so it will likely be the gallows for me anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Rescuing a prince is not exactly a minor heroic feat, either, so the two certainly cancel themselves out. Don’t worry about it, Miara. I don’t want you to call me anything.”

“I want to be like a normal Akarian. I have to know what they call you.”

“No one calls me anything.”

“You’re lying.”

“You’ll never be a normal Akarian to me.”

She stopped abruptly and glared at him, feeling hugely disappointed. She’d always be a mage slave to him somewhere in his mind, most likely. “I want to be a normal Akarian. What is it, or I’ll tie this bandage so tight your arm falls asleep.”

He sighed. “My lord, usually. Or liege. But don’t call me that.”

“Yes, my liege.”

He winced.

“I just wanted to try it out. I like the sound of that.”

“I’m glad you do.”

“I’m glad that you’re glad, my lord.”

He winced again. “What if I order you not to call me that?”

She grinned. “You haven’t told me how you used the map.”

Then he recounted his efforts to interpret the star map and make sense of its ancient language and strange magic. “But I never really got much more from the star map than which star to look for, which I guess I already knew.”

“Which one?”

“Casel—the freedom star. But what really gave me the idea was when you healed that boy.”

“Galen? First of all, we healed that boy, and second of all, how did that help anything?”

“You said anything that was against the Way of Things could heal itself with the addition of enough energy of the right type. And I was sure that their slavery was against the Way. So I suspected that maybe, just maybe, the same thing might work on you.”