Thread of Frost

Ch. 26: Some People Are Born Great

"You need to apologize," Tristan said.

They were standing at the edge of the Somnus Woods. Early morning light trickled through the trees, illuminating the green underbelly of leaves. The scent of damp earth and crisp apple and horse hung heavy in the air. Isaac paused, his hands on his mount's bridle.

"You're joking," he said.

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

He cut his eyes to where Owain and Sophie were examining a map, speaking in low voices. It had been like that all morning, Isaac thought: low voices as they ate handfuls of cheese and nuts for breakfast, low voices as they led the horses up the winding path from Tarhalla, low voices as they filled up their flasks in a stream.

Sophie knew something. She'd guessed something.

That much was clear.

"He lied to us." Isaac's voice was terse. "For gods' sake, Beauchamp, he pretended to be a bloody cat for the last three years."

"He didn't pretend," Tristan said mildly. "He was a cat."

Isaac yanked on a strap. "Do you hear yourself?"

"If it wasn't for Owain," Tristan said, "we'd still be in prison. He risked everything to break us out of Stillwater." He fiddled with a lump in his pocket. An explosive he'd squirreled away, no doubt. "Or have you forgotten that part?"

"Fine!" Isaac held up his hands. "Fine. Look, if you want me to apologize to your boyfriend, then I will."

Tristan studied him calmly. "Good. Go apologize." He shifted the saddlebag into place. "I'll finish with the horses."

Isaac sighed.

Well. No putting it off, then.

He stalked across the grassy pitch. Sophie and Owain fell silent. Isaac's expression must have been unpleasant because Sophie muttered something about filling up her flask, disappearing toward the stream.

"Hi," Isaac said.

Owain took a sip of water. "Hi."

"You all set?"

"Yes," Owain said.

A short silence fell. Isaac briefly fantasized about impaling himself on the nearest tree branch. It looked sharp enough to do some serious damage, Isaac thought hopefully; might even hit an internal organ, if he played his cards right.

"Look," Isaac said, "I'm sorry about last night."

Owain didn't smile. "Oh. You mean when you almost exposed my true nature to a group of potentially hostile resistance fighters?"

"Yeah," Isaac said. "That." He paused, searching for the right words. Apologies weren't foreign to him but lying was. He made a point of telling the truth, even when it wasn't convenient. "I was being a dick."

Owain nodded. "You have a lot of rage inside you."

Isaac blinked.

Right. Good chat.

He nodded at the map. "Do you need help with that?"

Owain shook his head. "I wouldn't advise going into those woods." He rolled up the map, stuffing it into his pocket. "The faeries do not take kindly to visitors."

"I need answers," Isaac said.

Owain frowned. "You will not get them."

"Well," Isaac said dryly, "thank-you for your sparkling optimism." He clapped Owain on the shoulder. "I'm going to go mount my horse now."