Except for one point.
Safety.
My mate was never going to be safe out on the open road like this.
“So, anyway,” I started when no one responded to my first question. “How the hell did you make it through the canyon pass the first time through?”
Melaina gave an aggravated sigh of disgust. “It’s really quite simple, dearest. We used a glamour.”
I frowned. “But they do glamour tests at either entrance.”
Quilla’s aunt smirked at me. “Not after we openly showed them Quilla’s mark, they didn’t.”
Okay, what? “That makes no sense.” I turned my attention to Quilla, but she still wasn’t talking to me. With a sigh, I refaced Melaina. “I’m not following.”
That earned me a condescending smirk. “It’s obviously been a while since you’ve visited High Cliff, hasn’t it?”
I nodded. “Just over five years now. Why?”
“Well, there’s a posted notice going around the kingdom that’s requesting the capture of at least one live Graykey. Or a Graykey could always surrender themselves before the crown.”
Quilla snorted. “Surrender, my ass,” she muttered. “Death would be preferable.”
I turned to her, sensing anxiety and fear in her emotions just under the layer of spite in her tone. She honestly believed execution was preferable to being taken alive.
“Why do they want one of you alive?”
“For my blood,” she answered. “What other reason?”
Shaking my head in confusion, I glanced at Melaina for an explanation.
The mistress of disguise fluttered out an unconcerned hand. “They have apparently concocted a magical potion, or ritual, or something that will help them accurately track down and find the rest of the Graykey clan. All they need to complete the process is the blood from one live Graykey.”
“Wait. So we could find the rest of your family with a sample of your blood?” I asked Quilla with a certain amount of hope in my voice. “Like, say, Qualmer?”
She sent me a scowl.
Melaina answered, “Yes, but we’ve no interest in finding my evil son. Besides, from what we’ve heard, the extraction process is brutally intensive and painful, plus we believe the blood donor dies during the procedure.”
“Oh.” Well, that was a different story, then. I winced toward Quilla, silently apologizing for even considering the idea of putting her through that.
She rolled her eyes with a glare—telling me I was not forgiven—and trotted ahead of us.
“So you pretended to be a High Cliff knight who’d just captured a Graykey and was taking her in to turn her over to the king, to get through the canyon pass, didn’t you?” I asked her aunt.
Melaina nodded and sent me an admiring glance. “Well now, I guess you can be smart after all.”
I shook my head, hissing out a curse. “That was dangerous, Melaina. They could’ve checked you for a glamour anyway and caught on to your ruse when they realized you weren’t a High Cliff knight after all.”
“But they didn’t.”
“What if the same guards are at the entrances this time too? Or smarter guards are on duty, because seriously, why didn’t they question the fact that you were going north through the pass, out of High Cliff? Not toward the capitol where the king is?”
“Oh, they did ask,” Melaina assured me. “But I just told them the procedure was taking place in Far Shore.” When I merely gaped at her, she shrugged. “What? For all we know, maybe the procedure does take place in Far Shore.”
“Well, it’s way too risky of a plan to put Quilla through a second time.”
“As if you have a say in the matter.” She sniffed and faced forward, prepared to ignore me again.
My eyebrows lifted. “She’s my mate,” I said, “so I’m putting in my say, anyway. And I say she’s not doing it. It’s too dangerous.”
Stopping her horse’s canter, she whirled in the saddle, eyes flickering with rage. “Then what do you suggest we do, oh wise and mighty one? Because we are going to the village of Tyler, whether you like it or not.”
I glanced forward to where Quilla was riding on ahead without us. Beyond her, I could make out the ferry station in the distance. Turning back to Melaina, I said, “There are two ferries at this station, aren’t there? One that merely crosses the river to get to the pass and another that goes downstream to Moore?”
Melaina nodded. “Yes. So?”
“So I say we take the ferry going to Moore. Then we can double back up toward Tyler, avoiding the armed checking station at the canyon. Besides, they charge an inordinate amount of coin at the toll to get through the pass. It’d be cheaper this way, and we could probably afford to stay in an inn or two along the way if we went through Moore.”
I knew the idea of room and board would appeal to her.
And what do you know, one of her eyebrows perked up with interest. But then she sighed and shook her head. “No, that would be going too far out of the way and take us twice as long to get there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I sneered with a roll of my eyes. “I didn’t realize we were in such a hurry after it took us nearly until midday before we even broke camp this morning. Who the hell cares if it takes longer? Quilla will be safer this way.”
“Quilla can take care of herself.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen her do so. But why needlessly put her at risk? Quilla should be protected.”
“Quilla can talk for herself, you know,” Quilla spoke up, suddenly before us.
I jumped, not realizing she’d come back to check on us.
“The prisoner disguise thing at the canyon pass is a bad idea,” I blurted to her. “I don’t want you to do it.”
“Too bad you don’t have a choice in the matter, then,” she told me smarmily before sending her aunt an icy glance. “The ferry station approaches. We all need disguises before getting on the boat.”
Melaina huffed out her impatient annoyance. “Oh, alright,” she said before twirling her finger in Quilla’s direction, then mine.
A crawling sensation, like a million ants had just made their residence on my flesh, covered my skin. I instantly began to scratch at my arms. “What the—”
“Don’t rub it,” Melaina ordered. “You’ll ruin the glamour. Just stand still and take it like a man.”
Falling reluctantly quiet, I glanced toward Quilla, only to discover she had turned into the old man I’d first seen her being.
“Him again,” I said, nodding. “Smart thinking.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, darling,” Melaina answered haughtily. “I know people always pay less attention to the elderly.”
Thinking she’d do the same for me, I looked down at my hands to see they no longer appeared to be shackled and that I was becoming the girl she’d changed Quilla into the second time I’d met her.
“A child? But everyone pays attention to small children.”
“The more eyes on you, the less on Quilla,” Melaina explained before giving Holly a condescending glower. “And you. Stop pretending to be a damn zebra. You stick out like a sore thumb. Either turn into a respectable-looking horse or that alley cat mongrel you like being so much, or I’m revealing your true form to the world.”