We were closing in on what looked like a spot in the Vago River that was crossable, and I prayed to the Fates that I’d find one and my identity remain undiscovered by Jaku and the others. After that, we’d only have two weeks left in our trek to the capital, where I’d finally have a chance to slip away.

I couldn’t wait.

Tapping into the well of shadows in my chest, I pulled Vagach’s form around me, again counting the time it took to complete.

Fifteen seconds.

Better, but not quite good enough should something happen and I need to appear as Vagach immediately. Once I’d donned my clothes, I packed everything away and shoved it through the flap. A few others had risen early and were in various stages of breaking down their temporary homes and loading the supply wagons. I paused for a moment and surveyed the group.

The males from Stryi were already toning up from the miles of walking carrying heavy packs as well as the training regimen the Vezető had them doing in the evenings. Everyone in the camp pulled their weight, from the older males cooking around the fires to the younger ones who worked in tandem to heft and arrange bags of clothes and supplies.

Jaku emerged from his tent, looking fresh and rested, and then shouted at the gathered males. “We move in twenty! Look sharp and get this camp packed up.”

Each day, he gave us less and less time to comply, though we never met his impossible deadlines. I understood his intention; much like the timing of my magic, it was meant to test how quickly we could mobilize if we were under attack. The small ways in which Jaku and the Vezető prepared us every day were not lost on me, and I got the sense that they deeply cared for our squad and wanted to ensure we wouldn’t die needlessly. The sentiment was growing within me the more time I spent with those under my command and with Izgath, Dromak, and Uzadaan, who worked with me separately to increase my all around competency.

“Morning, Vagach,” Izgath said from my left, and I nearly jumped out of my skin as he broke my examination.

“Morning,” I tried to grumble, but it came out more like a squeak.

Really, Assyria?

Izgath ran a hand over his freshly cut hair, his bicep flexing and drawing my attention. Digging my nails into my palm, I forced myself to focus instead on his garnet eyes. He was only an inch or two taller than me in this form, though his body was quite different from Vagach’s. It was impossible to deny that he was a warrior with the way he moved and the way his leathers moved with him.

“Think we’ll cross the river today?” he asked, studying me in that intense way of his.

“Aye,” I said, though I didn’t believe it. The Fates would have to truly be kind to me to make that crossing happen.

He clapped me on the shoulder and then gave it a shake. “I have no doubt you’ll manage it. You’re a natural leader. You see those males?” He pivoted us so we stared at the group that used to belong to his brother all working together to break down tents and saddle horses. “They respect you because you put in effort to get to know them. They trust you to guide them, both spiritually and while we travel. They see how hard you are working to improve your strength and agility, and they know you have their best interests at heart. They were extremely loyal to Zurronar, and to see them turn that to you has been extraordinary. I thought you were a stuck up prick, but you’ve shown a different side the longer we’ve been on the road. Maybe you’re more suited to military life than being a Kormánzó.”

My stomach plummeted as Izgath pointed out all the ways I’d been failing to be Vagach. While his words were intended to be a compliment, they did not land that way for me. Still, I had to at least pretend they did around the panic clawing up my throat.

“That means a lot coming from you, Izgath,” I murmured, failing to sound anything like Vagach.

“Well, everyone needs to feel seen for what they do,” he shrugged, his hand slipping off my shoulder and leaving a spot of chill in its wake.

“For what it’s worth, I see you too, Izgath.” I faced him. “You have gone out of your way to ensure I have dinner every night when I am exhausted. It’s not gone unnoticed.”

Damn it, Assyria, slap that Vagach mask back on!

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was treading dangerous territory, especially with the way he regarded me. The slight narrowing of his garnet eyes, the twitch of his full lips, the way his fingers flexed over something invisible, all of it sent tingles spreading across my body. He cocked his head ever so slightly, and I forced myself to tear away from our intense staredown and take three steps back.

“We need to get going before Jaku decides to leave us behind,” I said, unable to look at Izgath again.

“Aye.” The word was threaded with an undercurrent of suspicion. He lingered for a moment before striding away from me and toward the center of camp where a cook was calling out for any last minute meals.

Heart pounding, I packed my belongings and threw my tent into the wagon with the others, keeping my head down and mind fully focused on the task at hand. I barely greeted my charges as I mounted Blaeze, and it wasn’t until Jaku’s chestnut horse pranced up that the voice in my head telling me to get away as fast as I could silenced.

“You’ll ride at the front today with Uzadaan and me. We need our sharpest eyes looking out for that spot you said we could cross.”

I didn’t bother correcting the Százados. I’d never promised anything, but he wouldn’t care about semantics. “Yes, sir,” I said instead, offering him a closed-fist salute. “I prayed to the Weaver before I rose this morning to ask for calm and low waters for our crossing.” That was also a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

“If we haven’t found the spot by midday, we shall pray as a group then,” he commented. Uzadaan approached, rubbing his eyes and yawning wide enough that I thought his jaw would pop. His dark bay mount dragged his feet as if he too wanted to sleep a little longer. I couldn’t blame either of them. We rode hard every day, exercised hard every evening, then barely managed a few hours of sleep at night before Jaku roused us to get moving again. My magic was barely replenishing enough as it was, and I was certain I’d be closing in on a constant state of burnout if I had any eye color other than burgundy.

“Morning, Uzadaan,” I greeted him.

He blinked once, twice, then grunted, “Morning.”

Százados Jaku snorted his amusement. “Wake up, Uzadaan, because you’ll need to help Vagach spot the river crossing.”

“First we must approach the river,” he pointed out. In our current location, the river was visible in the distance, but we’d chosen to camp in an open field again. We’d need to travel alongside it today rather than on the road that bulged around it if we wanted to find the spot to cross—I hoped.

“Uzadaan is correct,” I chuckled, trying to convince myself as much as them that we’d uncover this miracle spot. “We’ll have more luck closer to the river. Let’s march on so we can cross the Vago sooner.”

Jaku brought his fingers to his mouth, stuck two in, and then released a sharp whistle. “Listen up! We ride along the river today. If the wagons get stuck, shout for assistance in moving them. Our Kormánzó will show us the way.”

Fuck, I really wish he’d stop saying that.

Cheers rippled throughout the group, and I politely dipped my head to the soldiers despite the ice slithering down my spine. Jaku spurred his stallion forward, and he sprang into action, trotting a straight line toward the Vago River. Uzadaan and I followed moments later, and I let Blaeze’s gait sway my hips as we settled into a comfortable rhythm.

To soothe the anxiety squeezing my ribs, I turned my attention to Uzadaan. “How is your mate?”