Huddled into the smallest ball possible, I take a deep breath and watch it cloud in front of my face. The fire illuminates everything that I can't see, stranded on the edge of a mountain ledge with the world looming down below. I've given up on looking down, low clouds and fog block out what is the dirt that I want so desperately to step on once more.

Across the fire, Renit warms his hands by cupping them in front of his mouth. Unlike me, he hasn't found the strength to try sleeping, huddled into the most uncomfortable ball imaginable. I press my back against a large boulder, cold from the winds, and try to quell the shivering inside of my body.

Lona is north and the farther north we go, the colder it's going to get. Even in the summers, the nights drop down to low temperatures and fire, a beacon rather, is necessary to survive. We've already eaten our meals and sipped on what water we have left to make it the rest of the way—the only thing for us to do now is brave through the night and wait for the sun to rise.

For the second night in a row, we've slept on this mountain. There is no end in sight but Renit is certain we're moving in the right direction. I haven't been able to tell—haven't really been looking—as we snake around the side of the mountain. The prince tells me we'll be able to spot the city by midday tomorrow and if we don't, then it won't be long before we do.

If. I'm tired of hearing the word if.

My teeth begin to chatter. "Best to sleep now, spitfire," Renit snarls for the third time tonight. "You'll move slow if you don't get enough sleep."

"I can't sleep," I argue. "It's too cold out here and I can't get comfortable." To prove my point, I shift and roll onto my other side so the flame scorches my back instead of my front. Either way, the stone floor of the mountain digs into my side and the flat satchel used as a pillow flattens, even with my arm for support.

"I can do nothing about the conditions. Forget about them and you'll sleep easy."

I laugh through my teeth. "You say that like it's easy."

"That's because it is. I've spent many nights freezing my ass off and still found the strength to sleep. It takes focus. Forget about your worries and you'll find sleeping is much easier when you're relaxed, rather than trying to force it."

I nearly snarl at the even tone of his voice. He's always so calm in situations like this when he tries to force his teachings on me. Yes, he's been through terrible things, but this is my first time being anywhere other than Arego and the capital. I'm allowed some slack, at least. On the chilliest days, we stayed by the fire and read books. We didn't climb mountains and sleep with nothing more than our clothes as blankets. I'm new to this entire world.

I raise my head to look at him. Those metallic eyes stare right back at me and his dark lashes cast shadows over his eyelids. He wears a cloak with a heavy hood to conceal most of his features and to block out the majority of the wind, but I've memorized enough of Renit's face to know where to look.

No one noticed other than me but he took out the black gouges signifying him as a member of the royal family. In full clothes and armor, the only sign of his tattoos are the three points at the base of his throat and at the nape of his neck. Anyone passing him would not recognize him as the king wants him to be seen. Renit looks like a normal witch, without the element of force from his father's rule.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" I ask.

"Someone has to keep watch. Anyone could be observing us right now and if we're not careful, our supplies or our lives will be stolen. As I've said before, Lona doesn't take kindly to intruders. The land is sacred to the witches living there," Renit utters so the mountains themselves don't hear him.

A whisper of wind crests up the back of my neck and I shiver. Someone could be out there in the dark, precisely why I can't sleep...along with the cold. If I sleep, I have more of a chance of dying.

"There's a cave nearby if I remember correctly. They could be hunting for sleeping prey," Renit continues. "If they stumble upon us, there's a chance they won't pass quietly." He points a finger towards a curve in the stone that disappears to black. The corner juts around and the trail continues on after that, farther than my eye can see.

Something shifts in the dark. I squint, holding my breath. Blinking, I try to find another second of the movement against the bright flicker of the fire. Renit's too busy unwrapping another loaf of bread to notice, but I wait to ensure I'm not insane.

Where shadows flicker against the grey stone, something pops their head from around the corner. I bite down on my tongue to avoid screaming out and instead, appear unphased. "Renit?" I whisper. The cloaked figure, realizing I'm no longer staring, keeps their head around the corner. They stare, watching us—silence in their lungs.

Too busy scarfing down more bread than what he had at dinner, Renit let's out a distracted 'hmm' from his throat as he picks crumbs from his tunic. Silver armor covers most of his abdomen, wrapping around his shoulders and stopping at his hips. The golden handle of his sword sticks out from behind his shoulder.

"Renit?" I ask with a more desperate tone this time.

His brows furrow and he stops—finally—to see what the fuss is about. Instead of staring directly at who is watching us from the corner, I dart my eyes in their direction and look back to the stone underneath me. Very slowly, Renit turns his head in that direction and acts like he's surveying the night sky.

A warrior bred to understand, fight, track, and suspect. You're never safe.

Smacking on the bits of bread in his cheek, he turns back to me and casually unsheathes his sword. The blade whines and the metal glistens in the firelight. Renit, ever so calm, pulls a whetstone from his pack and begins sharpening the blade. The hiss of the stone against the blade rings out and echoes in the mountain pass, but whoever is there doesn't move a muscle.

My heart begins to beat wildly as I wait for my fate. I follow Renit's lead, moving as casually as I can to sit up and rest my back against the boulder. Pulling out my own sword, I waggle my fingers for his whetstone and he tosses it over to me. Why haven't they left yet? Why are they still watching us?

There have to be more than what I'm seeing, not just one mountain person surveying our every breath. They're waiting...to deliver a report. Whether we should be left dead or alive.

My hands shake as I drag the whetstone over the blade and sharpen the tip. Renit stands and crouches in front of me to make it appear like he's teaching me the right way to sharpen my blade. At least that's what I think he's doing until his hand cups the side of my face and my hands freeze immediately.

Renit's breath is hot on my nose and he leans in close to my ear. "Just play along," he whispers. "If we're lucky, they'll go away."

I pull my hand to his chest, bracing my fingers against the lip of his armor. After what I confessed to him, I can't...play that act anymore. To strangers, we may be a couple, but to us, there's a wall between our two beings and with my urges keeping me from looking at Renit as more than a Grounding bond, this will do more harm than good. "No," I whisper. "I can't. Find another way to figure out who they are."

Renit, desperately trying to bandage the open, bleeding wound he just created, shakes his head. "I'm not doing this to—"

"We know you're there!" I shout.

A battle cry erupts from the dark corner and I push Renit back. I find the handle of my sword and grip tight as the shadowed figure runs at me, blade raised high in the air. When they bring down their weapon onto me, I force mine up and sparks fly, my hands vibrating with the force of those weapons clashing.

Strapped to the baldric across my chest, the knives wait. If I could just...

Before I can finish the thought, I'm kicked in the chest and knocked back against the stone's edge. The open air chills the back of my head and wind tears at the knotted strands of my hair. My attacker pounces on me, striking their blade down once more. I bring up my sword, pushing with all my might but they have leverage.

The muscles in my arms burn and I try to remember Renit's teachings. Unable to use my legs or my hands, I abandon all sense of defense and roll out of the way. The enemy blade strikes the stone where my head once was and I jump up, spinning wildly to see who I'm facing. They reach their full height, not much bigger than myself and much smaller than Renit who stands, clutching onto his side. He must have slammed into a rock after I pushed him.

"We mean you no harm," I announce. There could be others out there, waiting, watching. I keep my focus on the one brave enough to show their face.

She widens her stance and points the blade at us. "You're intruding on our home. That crime is punishable by death," she snarls.

I expose one of my hands. "We're merely passing through on our way to Lona. We haven't touched anything that belongs to you. Therefore, we should be granted safe passage."

She shakes her head, features hidden underneath a thick hood. With his breath caught, Renit tightens his grip on the handle of his sword and points the tip at her. "No one has to die here. We'll leave your people alone if we're touched no further than the problems you've already caused," Renit inputs. He sounds more like a king than a prince who spent one hundred years hating all life, including his own.

"I have caused no problems." An unsettling laugh echoes through the air—from her—and she lurches herself at the prince. He meets her strike, blades clashing, and whips the sword over his head to bring the sword down against her side.

She lurches out of the way, quicker than his attack, and brings one of her own. But I'm there, blocking her blade with my own and spinning to slash for her legs. She jumps out of the way, nearly kicking me in the face with a strong boot. The whoosh of a blade sails directly over my head and I bend back as she attempts to once again take off my head.

The tip of her blade barely misses the skin on my neck and Renit is there to kick her in the stomach. She flies back, rolling until she lands against one of the boulders keeping us from tumbling off the edge of the cliffs. "I've trained here," Renit pants. "For seventeen years. I'm sure you've heard the horror stories about The Greasy Barrel, haven't you?" The prince cocks his head to the side.

She pants and braces her palms against the stone to push herself back up. "Everyone has heard those stories. Every trainer in Lona was murdered at the hands of one witch in that tavern. After that, he fled and no one ever saw him again." Putting the pieces together, she looks Renit up and down. "You're the witch that killed the trainers?"

"If you don't believe me, we can keep sparring until you find yourself hanging on for dear life. The jagged mountains are great for impaling enemies," Renit grovels. We have yet to spill blood. We don't have to.

I keep my blade pointed at her, my stance wide, just like Renit taught me. In my other hand, a knife waits to be used as a back-up, for a split second when she leaves one of her sides vulnerable to attack. I've gone through the training, I know how to defend myself to an extent. Having all the knowledge of a prince, or even a king, would be helpful though.

I've always wanted to know what techniques make them superior to the rest.

The cloaked woman looks up, towards another ledge of sharp rocks. She asks a silent question and then flares her nostrils, looking back to Renit with cold determination in her eyes. "Fine, we'll let you pass. If you make it out of Lona alive, don't pass through here again. There are other passes with much more treacherous conditions. Here's to hoping you slip and hit your heads on rocks." She spits on the cold surface beneath our feet and with one careful glance behind her, trudges back into the dark.

Her footsteps echo then recede until they're gone completely and we're in the silence again. I sheathe my sword, not wanting to have the blade in my hand any longer, and finally, take a deep breath. I just survived my first attack with a weapon. I did it. And without Renit there to throw her off me.

"So the legends still hold sway," Renit sighs. He sheaths his own weapon and turns back towards the fire. A weight lifts off my shoulder, likely gone with the many pairs of eyes watching our every move. "The mountain people still have respect for what I've done."

Remembering what he did to start this in the first place, I clench my hand into a fist. "Don't do that again," I whisper.

Glancing over his shoulder at me, I force my stare away. I can't say this and meet his eyes at the same time—they hold too much care now. "Don't do what?" He asks.

"Don't touch me when there's no feeling behind it." I shake my head. "You don't know how hard that is."

Even in the dark, I catch the reddening of his cheeks, likely as red as my own. The heat of embarrassment blisters off my skin and Renit nods silently, gulping as he crouches in front of the fire. I don't want to shiver any more, I don't want to complain about the conditions.

Fluffing the satchel one final time, I lay down and face the boulder. Staring into the sky beyond, fluttered with stars, the tension on that small ledge is enough to keep me up for hours on end.