Running away without Antonin wasn't an option. She didn't want to even consider it. As she watched the wizard guzzle another mouthful of fire whiskey, she could feel anger building up inside her chest. How could he call himself Antonin's best friend if he was willing to give up on him so quickly? She knew just looking at Thorfinn that his grief was real. Maybe the loss of his wife prevented him from being optimistic. She didn't care. It was still infuriating.