“Don’t be a dick. I’m asking you for a day to rest—”

“A day.” I laugh without any humor. “Dustan would cut our throats in our sleep. Do you need a nursemaid, too, Jacob?”

He shoves me hard, right in the chest.

I shove him back, and he nearly falls. He recovers more quickly than I’m ready for, and he tackles me around the midsection. We both go down in the icy creek. The cold steals my breath—and then the water closes over my face as he pins me.

I land a punch in his side, and it grants me a few inches of freedom to suck in a breath before Jacob swings a fist that cracks me right in the jaw. I’m underwater again, his hands trapping me there. I can’t get leverage. I can’t breathe. The stars wait under my skin, ready to heal me, but they can’t fill my lungs with air.

Without warning, his hands fist in my shirt, and he jerks me up. I cough and gasp for breath.

“A day,” he says viciously.

“Half an—”

He shoves me underwater again, and this time I distantly register Lia Mara and Tycho shouting at him. My hands are tight on his wrists, my fingers digging in, but he holds fast.

The magic waits, sparks and stars under my skin. Lilith used to draw blood with barely a touch. Surely that’s not so different from healing. Pulling apart instead of putting together. Golden light begins to cloud my vision, flares of sunlight on the inside of my eyelids.

Harper will probably hate me forever if I kill her brother, but right now it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I send the sparks into his wrists. He shouts and throws himself back. I drag myself out of the creek, coughing a lungful of water onto the muddy bank beside me.

Jacob is still kneeling in the water, cradling a wrist against his chest. Blood stains his shirt, but it must not be too bad. His eyes are murderous instead of panicked.

“It’s not just for them, you idiot,” he says, his voice full of derision. “You’re exhausted, too. There’s no way I should have been able to pin you.”

I cough again. My throat feels ragged and raw. We’ve generated an audience. Lia Mara and Tycho are on the bank, their eyes worriedly going from me to Jacob. Noah is in the water, trying to pry Jacob’s arm away from his chest. Iisak crouches on the bank of the creek, waiting.

I don’t look at any of them.

The worst part is that Jacob is right. I am exhausted. He shouldn’t have been able to pin me. He shouldn’t have been able to land a punch at all.

I drag myself out of the water, then shove wet hair out of my face. “Fine. You can have until nightfall.” Without looking back, I head to where the horses are tethered to check our supplies.

No one follows.

I’m glad. I watch the others drift back into their quiet activities. Noah and Jacob are building a fire. Tycho looks like he’s trying to coax Iisak into a game of cards, and Lia Mara asks to play as well. She glances in my direction as if intending to invite me to join them, but whatever she finds in my expression convinces her otherwise, because she looks back at the cards while Tycho deals. The thought sours my darkening mood.

Last night, Lia Mara said I was leading. She’s wrong. I feel as though I’m flailing. Even when I was guard commander, I had a regimented set of duties. I had a plan. A chain of command. The prince gave orders, and I followed them.

Now, I have nothing. I have myself. Syhl Shallow might be the right destination—or it may very well be the wrong one.

Despite everything that has happened, I long for Rhen’s counsel. A near-eternity trapped by the curse meant that I knew what to expect from him, and he from me.

Rhen, I think. What would you do?

He would not ally with Syhl Shallow. I know that much.

I sigh, dropping to sit against a tree. My eyes sting from the water in the creek, so I rub at them. Exhaustion begs me to leave them closed, so I do, just for a moment. My hand falls into my lap.

“Yeah, I knew you were tired.”

I startle awake, my hands scrabbling through dirt and undergrowth for a weapon before I realize it’s only Jacob. The sky at his back has turned purple, the sun a sliver to our west, peeking over the mountain ranges. I’m disoriented and panicked for a moment, but his expression isn’t troubled, and all is quiet. The scent of our cooking fire wakes my belly with a vengeance. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

I drag a hand across my face. “How much time has passed?”

“Not enough. Here.” He holds out a steel bowl. “Eat while it’s hot.”

I take the bowl, and it’s warm, filled with shredded meat, a hunk of melting cheese, and a heel of bread that we brought from Blind Hollow. My clothes are still damp, but hunger is more pressing, so I draw my legs up to sit cross-legged, then dip the bread into the food. I should likely thank him, but I don’t. My mood still feels prickly and bitter, and I need no reminding of the way Jacob held me under the water.

When he drops to sit in the leaves across from me, his own bowl in his lap, my fingers go still. I glance up. “I am better rested now,” I say darkly.

He scoops up meat and cheese on the corner of his bread. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to kick my ass? Shut up and eat your food.”

The words are easy, lacking venom. Not repentant, but close. We’re a good distance from the fire, and it puts his eyes in shadow. I sigh and lift the bread to my mouth. We eat in silence for the longest time, until the sharp edges of my thoughts soften into something less volatile.

Jacob eventually sets his bowl aside, then pulls a cork from a bottle I didn’t realize he’d carried. He holds it out to me first.

I hesitate, then shake my head.

He takes a long swig, then says, “This is why I like you better than Rhen. He wouldn’t have sat here.”

He’s right. Rhen’s pride wouldn’t have allowed it. I use the remnants of my bread to scrape the last bit of cheese from the bowl. “Don’t worry. I’ll kill you when I’m done eating.”

He smiles, but it’s brief and flickers out. “You gave me hell on the road from Rillisk to Ironrose, telling me I was pushing the guardsmen too hard. You were doing the same thing.”

“You were rushing needlessly. I’m trying to keep us alive.”

“So am I.”

My hands go still again, and I look up at him.

Jacob’s expression doesn’t change. “You might have noticed that last night.”

When he saved my life. I scowl. “You just need me alive to get you home.”

He swears and takes another draw from the bottle, then gives a humorless laugh. “Wow.”

I frown and say nothing.

“You don’t trust anyone at all,” he says, “and I think that, more than anything, is what’s going to bring you down.”

“That is not true.”

“It is true. You didn’t trust Rhen enough to tell him who you are. You don’t trust Lia Mara enough to fully commit to taking sanctuary in Syhl Shallow. I just watched you run yourself into the ground because you didn’t trust the town to keep you safe—and I have a feeling I’m going to watch it again and again until Dustan puts a sword through your back.”

“We were putting the town at risk—”

“Whatever. They drove those guardsmen out of there. They would have done it again. We could be sleeping in a bed right now instead of sitting in the leaves.” He pauses, and his eyes are like fire. “You don’t trust me enough to listen when I say people need to rest. You don’t trust me even though I jumped into a battle to save your life.”