The second her eyes had locked on Khuno’s, all logic flew from Quenti. She was no longer aware of the glinting metal points that followed her every move as she leapt forward. It had been months since Khuno had last snuck into Hurazon to meet Quenti, and seeing her suddenly lifted a weight off her chest.

Khuno smelled of rain and wood smoke. Quenti breathed her in as she felt arms wrap around her waist and the touch of rough, chapped lips against her own. They stood like that for a moment, neither moving. It was Khuno that broke the kiss and eased Quenti away.

“You’re late.” Khuno cupped Quenti's face in her hands and looked at her questioningly.

“I know.”

“Also, not where you were supposed to be. Our spies told us you were in the Haven. Did your father…” Khuno didn’t need to finish the question.

Quenti shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

“Clearly.” Khuno’s voice turned icy and Quenti followed her gaze to Alara, still standing in shock by the river. The bruya looked back at her, brows creased and eyes sharp.

“It’s a long story, but she’s with me. Not like that.” Quenti amended when Khuno’s eyes narrowed.

“Alara meet Khuno. Khuno, Alara.”

The other girl’s mouth set in a grim line. In an instant, any questions Alara had regarding Khuno were answered. Quenti grimaced. This was not what she wanted.

“Khuno,” a young male bruya stood, bow taut a few feet from them, “would you care to explain why there are two of them? No one mentioned a second magite.” His dark eyes didn’t leave Alara as he spoke, head tilted toward them.

“I might have accidentally kidnapped her,” Quenti said, directing her words to Khuno. The bruya’s brown eyes widened. “I got caught by the councilguards on my way out of Sombria and she helped me escape. Once she was with me, I couldn’t leave her in the middle of the forest.”

“Khuno, your girl is stupid,” the male bruya said.

“Runeo,” Khuno warned.

“Look,” Alara stepped forward. The weapon-wielding bruyas shifted, and she stopped. “I don’t want to be here. You don’t want me here. I just need some supplies and I’ll be on my way.”

“The spy wants to leave so she can bring back her councilguard friends.” The female bruya who had originally yelled moved forward, spear pointed at Alara’s throat, now only half a foot away.

Alara was looking scared and Quenti felt the guilt heavy in her gut. This wasn’t how she planned it, but a part of her always knew this would happen. She just hadn’t cared—or she had cared more about seeing Khuno again.

Quenti turned back to Khuno, placing a hand on her arm. “Please, this is all my fault, not hers. She didn’t want to come. There has to be something—”

Runeo—the male bruya with the dark eyes and thick brows—overheard her words and let out a soft growl. “Enough of this. Zinita is right. If we let her go, her friends will be here within a week.” The grip on his bow tightened, sending a wave of nausea through Quenti.

Khuno stepped forward, nudging Quenti to the side. She laid a gentle hand on Runeo’s arm, but the look she gave him was anything but. “You’re right. We will bring her to the elders to decide what the next steps are.”

The bruya’s dark eyes narrowed at Khuno’s words, but he lowered his bow. “Agreed. Micos, tie her up.”

He directed the words at a younger male bruya, around Quenti’s age, if not younger, standing in the back of the pack, staff in hand. He didn’t move.

“Micos. Now,” Runeo said.

The boy registered that everyone was looking at him. He jumped forward, hands shaking as he unwound a length of rope at his waist.

Alara clenched her teeth and let out a small growl as the boy bound her wrists. For her part, she didn’t struggle, which Quenti was glad for. Her stomach was already twisted with anxiety enough as it was.

For a moment, she let herself appreciate the fact that she’d found them. Her new people. She leaned into Khuno and felt the other girl’s warmth seeping through her skin. As Alara was marched past her, spear tip dug into her back, she heard the sneer whispered only for her ears.

“Bruya lover.”

Quenti wasn’t sure Khuno had heard, but the other girl’s arms wrapped around her in a short but reassuring embrace. “Come, the walk home is long.”

Quenti felt a pang at the words.

Home.

****

Even with the warning from Khuno, Quenti was surprised to find them still walking hours later. They followed the river for another thirty minutes before reaching the rocky outcrop Quenti had been looking for this entire time. It had unfolded from the thick forest, gray stone set against blue sky. When they reached its base, they turned and followed a new path, uphill and away from the water.

Occasionally, Quenti could see a faint trail—what they must have been following—but other times it seemed as if they were fighting their way through the low branches of the cloud forest with no direction.

Her breath came in quick gasps she tried to stifle. Her feet ached in the thin magite boots she was wearing, but she bit back any complaints. The bruyas seemed at ease as they moved through the trees, their sandaled feet gracefully balancing on slick roots, skipping over the same muddy puddles Quenti stepped in every time without fail.

And then they broke from the forest, the trees ending without ceremony. Before them and below lay a verdant valley, hidden on either side by tree-covered peaks. Everything was green and still save for a condor that circled above, likely stalking some prey farther down the hill. Quenti didn’t realize she had stopped to stare until she felt Khuno nudge her to the left.

“Come on, it’s still a bit longer. If you like this view, just wait ’til you see Arbol.”

Quenti nodded and followed as they paved their way along the steep hillside, higher still into the mountains.

When they had hiked higher than Quenti felt possible, they hit the peak and the path veered downward. Somehow, her feet hurt worse as they wound their way down and back into the forest.

She studied the others around her to distract her mind. Runeo, bushy eyebrows still furrowed in what Quenti had decided was anger, led the march. Micos and Alara walked a few feet behind. Quenti wasn’t sure if she felt glad or guilty to see Alara breathing just as raggedly as her. There were a few other bruyas who walked with eyes focused on Runeo, as though they feared losing step with him. At the back of the group walked Zinita, the female bruya who had first threatened them. She was nearly as tall as Runeo, and her eyes were dark and narrowed as she walked. Quenti shuddered at the unbridled hatred she saw there.

Without thinking, she reached for Khuno’s hand, seeking reassurance. Home. That was Khuno had called it. What Khuno had promised months ago now while she and Quenti had laid intertwined in the woods near Hurazon. At first it had seemed just empty promises whispered into her ear like a folk song—meant to bring joy without truth. But then Khuno had repeated it in a mantra, no longer whispers, but desperate pleas.

“Come home.”

Khuno’s hand was warm and dry against Quenti’s sweaty palm, but it didn’t stop the twist of anxiety that still threatened to spill from Quenti’s throat in a strangled cry.

Khuno wanted her there. Quenti just wasn’t sure anyone else did.

****

When they stopped, Quenti looked around expectantly. What she saw did nothing to quell the anxiety.

There was nothing—or nothing new.

They were encircled by thick trunks of trees, wide enough to fit houses, but not hiding any she could see. She studied their surroundings, but she couldn’t see anything beyond trunks and roots and shrubs. She caught Khuno’s eye and saw the other girl’s knowing grin.

“What—”

Runeo’s high-pitched whistle cut Quenti off. The group fell silent and still again. Quenti swallowed down the nausea that rose in her throat. She tried to hide the fear in her eyes and waited patiently with the rest. Based on the reassuring tightening of Khuno’s hand, she wasn’t sure she was succeeding.

A couple of minutes later, a wooden platform several feet across on both ends emerged from the thick branches above them. Quenti let out a small gasp as the lift landed with a soft thud in front of them, and Khuno led her onto the planks. About half of the group followed, including Runeo and Micos with Alara. With another whistle from Runeo, the surrounding ropes pulled taut, and the lift ascended. Quenti cursed as she glanced at the disappearing ground beneath them. She gripped Khuno’s arms tight. As she made eye contact with Runeo, she couldn’t help but catch the small glint of laughter in his eyes at her paling face.

Quenti closed her eyes and leaned into Khuno. It felt like they had been ascending forever when she heard Alara’s small gasp a foot away. Her eyes opened, almost reluctantly, but then went wide.

They had passed a thick layer of tree branches and the ground was no longer visible below them. But just above was an entire village laid out between the trunks and branches of the colossal mahoganies. Rope and plank bridges stretched between massive platforms, buildings wrapped around trunks, and stairs spiraling above and below. The sunlight broke through the upper branches, still many yards above them, and in the dappled light, Quenti saw the hundreds of bruyas milling about the tree-top village.

This was Arbol. This was home.