A word of warning. Don't think the glory of the Virtues will shine on you once your heir lives under your roof. Sebby is not an easy child. Pride infests him just as easily as Wrath. Father did always say I'd get the son I deserved. Curse me, not the boy.

As a slight noise rustled through the juniper bushes, Alex shot her hand behind her back to grab an arrow and stretched out her bow, the string vibrating against her fingers. This time she wouldn't hesitate. Lord Brandon had been wrong. Violence was the answer when other lives were at stake, and some men just deserved to die.

One day, all the arrows in her quiver would pierce the magician's chest, and King Ariel would be next. If she could, she would follow them into the depths of the Seven Hells and make them suffer for all eternity.

There came a quiet swishing. A fiery red squirrel with long fluffy ears stuck its head between the scale-like leaves, munching quietly on one of the blueberries. Its marble-like eyes stared at her.

She froze. Not even a thousand deaths would be enough to repent their sins. She wasn't a God who could decide who lived and died.

"Just shoot it," Nick mumbled, swiping the raindrops from his face. "It's freezing and I'm starving."

The little animal scampered away to the thick boughs. Too late. Again.

"Stop whining, you're just tired." Her stomach rumbled as the juniper needles stopped moving. After flicking the arrow back into the quiver, she slung her bow over her shoulder. "Honestly, Nick, walking is nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other. It's not that hard."

"You were the one who let our dinner go." He gesticulated widely. "I only said I was cold and hungry."

She sniffed, narrowing her eyes. "You were thinking about your sore feet. I just know it."

"I understand why you're angry." The leaves cracked beneath his feet as he edged further away from her; not far but still enough to make a point. "But don't let it control you. I once read in a book that life is like a pendulum clock. When the pendulum hits the lowest part of the clock, it can only swing back up again. Surely we've reached rock bottom now, so that means that only brighter days lay ahead. It just has to be."

"And what happens when it breaks down?" She had no idea what a pendulum clock was, but Nick rambling about books was better than them snapping at each other. She was angry, but not at him.

"Then..." He pressed his lips together, frowning in thought. "I don't know. I guess it's thrown away and replaced by a new one."

A silence settled between them, growing more uncomfortable with every footfall on the ash-covered path next to the river. Another step closer to the dreadful capital where female warriors weren't welcome.

She glanced over her shoulder, to the meandering bends of the river Faith where the stream still vibrated against the rocky shore, like home was still her perfect home.

One time, Lady Karen had caught her stealing a fresh muffin to persuade Nick into putting his books aside, she had given her a second one to assure that he would come and play with her in the forest. She was dead. As was Lord Brandon, who had done so much for her and for others too. She clearly recalled the day she and Seb had challenged Fox to climb all the way to the top of the oak tree by the tavern, Lord Brandon had volunteered to rescue the little muttonhead because he was too scared to get back down.

Oh, how much those memories hurt now. Alex shivered, biting back her tears. The Gods of Virtue had to stop the world from falling apart. She had already lost so much and her friendship with Seb would surely change now that he was a Prince. Royalty and commoners shouldn't mingle; that's what Nick's stories had always taught her.

"Are you cold?" Nick asked.

"Yes," she lied, not wanting to bother him with her worries. "Why don't you tell me a story to keep me warm?"

"Which one?" His eyes lit up, now sparkling with joy. "Or rather, which one first? I'll tell you all the stories I know."

"Nothing about clocks." Alex chuckled, prodding him in the side. "Erm... tell me my favourite. Rhanis and the Goblin King."

"Aye aye, Miss Alexandra."

The wet ashes under her feet drenched her socks and poked more holes into her shoes, yet it didn't stop her from skipping through the forest as Nick recounted the adventures of Queen Rhanis, the first female ruler of Scoria. Born a beggar, raised a thief, she had gotten rid of all the fire-born goblins that had invaded Ashamah.

"'... no man can kill me', the slimy Goblin King yelled at her. But then she drew her sword and charged."

Alex yanked Nick's sword out of his sheath and playfully pressed the tip against his chest. "'I am no man,' she grinned and slashed his belly wide open."

Nick halted, jutting his chin. "Nice try. It's just a story, Alex. Real history books say that the goblins never existed. It was a way for the Scorians to demonise the tribes living in the mountains. Rhanis only managed to beat them because they were short men fighting with slings and stones."

"Snore!" She swished the sword back into its sheath. "Just tell me another story. It doesn't matter which one as long as I don't have to think anymore."

"Oh, so you do use your brain?" His cheeky smirk turned into a broad grin as he laughed.

She swung her arm around his throat and ran her knuckles over his dark blonde head. "Yes, it's thinking that you don't walk so slowly when you have something to do."

"Now you are the one whining." He planted his elbow into her side, after which she released him. "So to punish you, I will tell you the story of how Prince Lewis tried to woo the pastry maker's daughter by buying all the cakes in her father's store."

"I told you that any story was good." Alex preferred stories about heroes and warriors, but anything worked to drown out the splattering rain on their heads; even one about a besotted arrogant prince.

Nick kept telling tales until his voice grew hoarse. The night had turned so dark that it became hard to keep track of the river, and even she had to admit that her feet were getting sore. They found shelter underneath the man-sized leaves of the plantain lilies, which stopped most of the rain, but not the bitterly cold wind.

The freezing temperatures didn't bother Nick. After a frugal dinner of clovers and ash-filled river water, the only sounds that came out of his mouth were puffs and snores. While he turned around like a watermill, Alex ran her fingers along the string of her bow.

Because of her, Fox would never run behind her like a puppy behind the bigger dogs, gibbering about becoming the best warrior in the world. Never would he become a real fighter, and not just because he wasn't out for it. He was a magician. A son of the Gods of Sin.

Like that awful man who had destroyed everything she ever held dear. Nothing good had ever come out of magic. Fox would be better off dead if that were his future.

She tossed her bow aside and dropped her head to her folded arms, tears freely flowing over her knees. Fox was still her friend. Her sweet little gullible muttonhead of a friend.

The following morning, Nick woke up with a loud yawn. He stretched out his limbs and smacked his lips. "I don't think I've ever slept worse."

"Be grateful that you slept at all, Nicolas." She huffed.

The sun had risen a long time ago. She had seen every stage of the dawn, from the great carpet of dark blue to the crimson colours slowly setting the sky ablaze. The rain had stopped, but the dewdrops had fallen onto her nose at regular intervals. Nick had no right to complain.

Grunting, he got up, his eyes scanning the flow of the river and the crossing ahead. He put his hands into his pockets. "Where do you think Seb and Abby are?"

"It's been two and a half days, Nick. I don't know. The regular road to Sundale is three days by horse, and longer if—"

"The passage via The Plains is shorter. He's foolish enough to try his luck." He shuddered, his foot digging awkwardly into the ground. "I will kill him if anything happens to Abby though. That's no place to be when you are healthy. Let alone when..."

She walked up to him, pulling him into a hug. "Shht, her fate lies in the Gods' hands."

"That doesn't sound too comforting." His face tightened as he clenched his teeth. "The Gods let Laneby happen too."

Pushing him off, she slapped his shoulder. "I'm gonna pretend that's your empty stomach talking, Nicolas."

"Pretend all you want, Alex. True Gods and Goddesses of Virtue wouldn't stand by and watch innocent people getting slaughtered. They don't care about us. We are but distractions in their never-ending family war."

"Now you just sound bitter. What happened to your pendulum clock?"

"It broke down," he grumbled. He shuffled further, over the cobblestone bridge that had been built over the river.

The God of Greed settled inside her mind. As a big sister, Alex understood the worries an older sibling has over the younger ones, but Nick shouldn't be so snappy. Abby stood a chance at least; Charlie and Ben hadn't been that lucky.

The day crawled forwards, with little change in scenery and too many moments that the noises of the forest dominated. Alex passed the time hunting down the rabbits that had returned. Nick's pendulum could remain broken for all she cared. She could settle for a life in the numbing solace of the here and the now; frozen in time, in between the horrors of the past and the uncertainty of the future.

She grew accustomed to the forest floor beneath her feet. The birch trees resembled the ones at home and on their branches rested the same kinds of robins and larks that had chirped in Laneby. The rabbits that used the roots as holes were equally easy to catch and just as tasty.

Even Nick agreed with that as he leant against the fallen trunk of an old oak tree and let out a burp that echoed throughout the entire valley. Alex sniggered, poking into the fire with a stick to keep warm. He may be grumpy most of the day, but she knew that all he wanted to do was hold Abby in his arms again, so she forgave him.

The morning of the fourth day brought tremors that shook her awake. Through the trees that shielded them from the path by the river flashed two dozen riders in deep green uniforms.

An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Army men. Possibly from Sundale. 

She violently tugged Nick's shirt. "Wake up, there's a patrol here."

With his eyes still closed, Nick reached for his sword and mumbled, "Stand by your side. All ready to attack."

"Muttonhead." She punched him in the belly. "I think there's a Sundale patrol here. What do we do?"

"Abby." His sword dropped to the ground as his eyes flew open. He got up and began shouting and waving his arms like a young sparrow that was about to take off for his very first flight.

The tremors stopped, then returned with twice the noise as the riders galloped towards them. With gracious synchronised movements, they formed a circle around her and Nick. Twenty-four men. Some had two stripes on their uniform, others three. Most of them were old enough to be her father, yet there were some only a few years older than she was.

All men. Not a single woman.

The grey-haired rider, wearing a medal-filled uniform that screamed power, broke the circle by nudging his horse to take a step forwards. "Good morning, my name is Captain Jonathan, leader of the Sundale army. Who are you? What happened to you?"

Nick formally clasped his hands behind his back. "My name is Nicolas, son of Frederic of Laneby." He glanced at her. "This is my friend, Alexandra. She's the daughter of the late Vanya of Hamra."

"Hamra? A Jade Islander, Captain," a black-haired man said. He had a twisted beard and stood next to the Captain.

"My father was born and raised on the Isle of Hamra, but he moved to Laneby fifteen years ago. I'm as much a Lanebyer as Nick." The sudden rage that escaped her mouth was absurd. She didn't understand why she felt the need to discard her heritage like this. The magician may have had the typical lisp and chiselled eyebrows, but the Islands contained more inhabitants than a hundred Lanebys combined.  

"And what are two Laneby younglings such as yourselves doing out here in the wild?" the Captain asked.

"We escaped an attack," Nick said before she could say anything. "A magician from Silvermark came to the village and killed everyone. Laneby has been completely burnt down."

There wasn't a trace of emotion on the Captain's face, but two younger men stared uneasily at each other. This was news to them.

The brown-haired man riding a black stallion cleared his throat. "I think we may have found the source of the contaminated river water, Captain."

"Yes." The Captain ran his stern eyes over her and Nick. "And how did you two escape that dreadful attack?"

"We weren't in town. Us, and two other people. Sebastian, son of Lord Brandon, and Fo... Henry, son of blacksmith Harald. Henry was captured by the magician."

The Captain raised an eyebrow. "Alive?"

Nick glanced at her. A quick, almost invisible, shake of the head was all that she dared to do. He couldn't say anything about Fox being a magician.

"Yes. I think to serve as proof of some sorts," Nick said with a straight face. "The magician told us that it was an order from their King, that killing Lord Brandon and Sebastian would give King Ariel a bigger claim to the Greenlander throne. He doesn't know that Sebastian got away. If all is well, he should be in Sundale by now."

Around them, the men began to whisper, with murmurs coming from all sides; except for the Captain's. The man remained stoic. "Pray to the Gods for his soul. And that he has indeed found his way home to his uncle."

Seb was really related to the King. Alex didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She could hardly picture Seb with a crown on his head, sitting still for hours on end while listening to grey men droning on about the next crisis in the kingdom. He had once confided in her that he had his doubts on becoming Lord of Laneby. A future as King of The Greenlands must terrify him.

"Lieutenant Patrick, take your men to Laneby. Bury what's left of the dead and capture anyone that still roams the area," the Captain ordered the black-haired man. "I will bring these two to the capital and inform His Majesty about the attack. If the young Prince hasn't arrived yet, I will gather more men and send three dozen to comb out The Plains as well."

"Aye, Captain. I will pray he's alive and well," the black-haired man said.

"Do so."

"I hope so too." Nick was nervously playing with his fingers behind his back. "My baby sister is with him. She's gravely injured."

"Then Sundale is the best place for her." The Captain whistled on his fingers. Six ponies with bags filled with supplies to last a fortnight appeared from behind the trees.

A huge smile appeared on Nick's face, but Alex couldn't share that happiness with him. The God of Greed was still slumbering in her brain. She would have preferred walking to the capital; to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible.

"Peter, William, rearrange the bags to free up a pony." The Captain then looked at Nick. "You ride. The girl can sit at the back of Peter's saddle. He's small-boned anyway."

"I can ride too," Alex protested.

The Captain was already too busy chatting to Lieutenant Patrick, and neither of the other men budged either. If she had known the ponies any better, she would have jumped on one of their backs to get them to notice her. They may all be army officers, but she could easily beat them all in a race.

"You can give your bow and quiver to me," said a freckled man with deep blue eyes. "I can help you mount the horse too, young lady."

She clenched them tighter to her body. "That won't be necessary. I'm good."

He jumped off the horse and stretched out his hand. "Please, what's a young girl like you doing with weapons? You might hurt yourself."

She snorted, her lips curling with disdain. "Continue talking like that, and you'll end up being the one who gets hurt."

Nick leant closer to her. "Behave. These are powerful men—all Serjeants and Lieutenants. The Captain of Sundale even," he said through his teeth.

High on his horse, the grey-haired man with too many medals gazed upon her with crinkled slits. "No weapons for you, Miss Alexandra. That's an order."

She and the Captain would never become friends. She wasn't even going to try. "I'm not part of your army, Captain. I don't take orders from men like you."

"Men like me?"

"Don't mind my friend, Captain." Nick twisted her arm, tugging her closer. "We've been on the road for a long while, saw terrifying things. It gets you a bit edgy, doesn't it, Alex?"

"What?"

Nick looked her in the eyes and whispered, "I don't care what point you wanna prove. I wanna see my sister, sooner than later, so do what he tells you to and get on that horse."

"Here." She pushed her bow into his hands, then unbuckled the clasp of her quiver and let it all drop to the ground.

She then reached for the sword on her belt and held it in her hand. It was only slightly bigger than the average dagger. With an overhand cast, she flung the weapon in between the two younger officers repacking the ponies. They halted as the dagger hit the tree behind them, eyeing their Captain.

With long strides, she marched to Peter's brown stallion and swung her leg over the saddle. "I have no weapons. I'm on the horse. Are we ready to go?"