As soon as the sky lightened the next morning, I was on my feet once more.
If you’re ever lost, look for higher ground. From there, you can
more easily navigate. And you’ll have a better chance of finding water.
Tibris’s voice sounded in my head, calm and sure.
Where was he right now? Had he spent a terrifying night out in the cold? Was he hiding in someone’s barn or loft?
I refused to think about the other option. That he was already dead. Instead, I scanned my surroundings. No mountains to be found, but to the right was a small hill. I trudged up it, attempting to stay as quiet as possible. My efforts were useless, though, as I stumbled over branches, slammed into a tree, and grunted when my bleeding foot hit a rock. I paused with each misstep, flinching at every noise, my gaze darting around me as I strained my ears for the smallest sound.
I surveyed the area below me. To the north was the river I’d crossed last night. My heart rate quickened at the memory of just how close I’d come to death.
Turning to face the opposite direction, I looked south. Another river— much narrower than the Dytur River. I would need to cross it.
My palms began to sweat at the thought of more freezing water. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus. If I’d stayed on the road that led from the bridge, I would have followed it southwest, eventually finding my way to the kingdom’s capital—Lesdryn. There were larger towns dotted along that road. Towns where I would have a greater chance of blending in until I could steal a horse and get to the city. But I was a mess. My feet were bleeding, I was limping, and my condition would only draw attention.
So, I’d keep to the forest until I was closer to Lesdryn. It was the only real choice I had. Hopefully by the time I was forced to use the road, I would have come up with a plan to keep myself safe.
I could do this.
After all, against all odds, I was still alive. I just had to keep reminding myself of that.
The river was only about knee-deep, but it was flowing fast.
My chest tightened, and I gulped in several shallow breaths as I stared down at my planned path.
One misstep and I would be in that freezing water. It may only be knee- high, but I could slip, hit my head, drown just the same.
Move.
I choked out a sob, loathing that I was even hesitating. I could do this. I
had to do this, or I may as well turn back right now.
I strode into the frigid water, moving as quickly as I could without slipping. By the time I made it to the other side, my feet stung with fresh cuts from the sharp rocks.
Planting my hands on my knees, I leaned over until I stopped shaking.
When I lifted my head, my surroundings seemed to rotate around me.
I walked all day. By the time the sun was setting, my stomach howled, but I was almost out of my scant food and would need to save what little I had left for tomorrow.
Red flickered in the distance. Flames?
I went still. I couldn’t feel the warmth, of course. But for a moment, I imagined I could. Imagined I was lying in front of that fire, drowsy after a filling meal.
The king’s guards probably wouldn’t light a fire. Herica had once told me they usually traveled with an umber stone—a large black stone that
could be charged with magic and would release heat.
Where there were flames, there was likely food. My stomach grumbled as if in agreement, and I kept my gaze on the orange-red glow through the trees.
Creeping closer, I peered around the tree and into the clearing.
I sucked in a sharp breath. I recognized that group of men, stretched out by their campfire without a care in the world. Grinding my teeth, I counted four of them. One of the brutes was hiding somewhere, likely on sentry duty.
Fury swept through me, along with a healthy dose of outrage. After everything I’d been through since Galon had pulled me out of the river, seeing them sleeping by the warmth of a fire, likely with full bellies and dry clothes…
It was a twist of the knife.
Galon was lying closest to me. Across the clearing, the leader—Lorian, they’d called him—was stretched out, eyes closed. Behind him, their horses rested near several packs of supplies.
Likely, some of those supplies included food. My skin prickled with anticipation.
Where, exactly, was the sentry?
Lorian rolled over and glanced to his left. My mouth stretched in my first smile since I’d fled my village. The tyrant was unable to simply let his man do his job. He had to breathe down his neck.
And he’d just given his sentry’s spot away. Fool.
I’d take their food and leave them with almost nothing. The way they’d left me.
Painstakingly slowly, I began to move to Lorian’s right. I had more visibility here, but I couldn’t afford to rush and snap a branch.
One of the men coughed. I used the sound to cover a few quick steps.
It felt as if it took hours. I knew my strengths, and skulking through the woods was not one of them. But I refused to allow my impatience to lose me that horse. Those supplies. All the food.
Finally, finally, I was just a few foot-spans from the horses. I slowly sucked some air into my lungs, and with a final glance at the resting men, I prepared to—
I froze. Lorian was gone.
His voice sounded behind me. “Did you really think we didn’t know you were here, village girl?”
Ducking down, I whirled, avoiding his attempt to grab me. Surprise flashed across his face, and he charged me.
I tripped him, my own leg tangling with his. He cursed and we fell, rolling toward the fire.
By the time we came to a stop, my blade was at his throat and my heart was beating so hard, it felt as if my ribs would snap. He’d pinned me with his huge body, but all it would take was a flick of my wrist and he would be dead.
He stared down at me, those forest-green eyes lit with amusement.
A trap. The bastard had looked at the sentry to lure me close and ensure I went in the opposite direction. So he could track me. He’d likely known I was here before I’d even seen his fire.
Dismay swept through me. I had to do better. Had to learn fast if I was going to make it to the city and get on a ship.
“Did you really think we’d let you take one of our horses? What did we do to deserve your theft?”
Fury punched through me. “You left me for dead,” I hissed. “You survived.”
“No thanks to you!”
He heaved a sigh. As if I were inconveniencing him.
I imagined my blade splitting him open. Visualized the spray of blood. I wasn’t usually bloodthirsty, but this man brought it out on me.
His expression had turned bored. I’d been through hell over the past few days, and this man could have lightened my load. Instead, he looked moments away from yawning.
Fine. We’d see how he liked it when I left him for dead.
A sharp blade was suddenly nestled against my skin, right next to the spot where my pulse thundered. I wedged my own knife closer to Lorian’s throat.
“Put it down,” an amused voice said.
My skin turned clammy, a heavy weight pressing on my chest.
I stared into Lorian’s green eyes, and I made a silent vow to myself. If I lived through the next few minutes, and the gods ever decided to make our paths cross once more, I would ensure this man regretted leaving me to die.
His gaze sharpened as if he were reading my mind. A huge, callused hand clamped around my wrist, until I was forced to drop the knife.
Lorian rolled off me, but not enough for me to go anywhere. Who knew what they’d do with me now? They could violate me, kill me, turn me in to the king’s guards. The things these men could do to me would make that hunter’s quick death seem like a gift.
My desperation may have just cost me my life.
Lorian’s friend dragged me to my feet, reaching for my hands. The rough texture of the rope he carried scraped against my wrists.
My skin heated, and a sharp, insistent shriek filled my mind until there was only one outlet for it.
Stop.
Time froze.
Sweeping up my knife, I turned and sprinted toward their horses. I had moments. If I was lucky.
I untied the closest horse. And my body hit the ground.
“What did you do?” No amusement filled that silken voice now. I was once again helpless. I went still, frustration coursing through me. I was so fucking tired of this day.
“Let go!”
“Use your magic on me again, and you will regret it.” “My magic?”
“Do not feign stupidity.”
He flipped me over, and I panted, desperate for breath. His gaze dropped to my heaving chest and then flicked back up to my face.
Lying was stupid since the mercenaries had seen what I could do. In this case, the truth was my best defense. “I don’t. Not like you mean. I can just do this one thing. And only sometimes. And not for long.”
I was rambling now, desperate to make him understand. I never should have come here. Should have known better than to think I could steal one of their horses. I was tired enough and hungry enough that I’d allowed my desperation to overrule my logic. Now, they’d hand me over to any guards who came for me, and then they’d enjoy the king’s reward.
Lorian studied the empty spot on my temple, where the blue circle would have been if I’d reached twenty-five winters. His expression was
inscrutable, and yet I could practically feel his mind racing as he attempted to understand exactly who I was.
My own gaze slid to the blue mark on his temple, resentment sliding through my veins. But the brute was already speaking once more.
“How did you end up in that river? Lie,” he purred before I could speak, “and I’ll throw you back in. But not before ordering Galon to tie rocks to your feet.”
Fear punched into my gut, and for a long, endless moment, I couldn’t breathe. The thought of that water rushing at me, into my mouth, flooding my lungs…
Lorian was still studying me. He knew just how well his little threat had worked. I attempted to wiggle away from him, but all I was doing was moving my hips closer to his.
“Speak,” he growled.
“My mother…she pushed me into the river. Because the guards learned I was one of the corrupt. They were coming for me.”
My lower lip trembled, and I ruthlessly clamped down on it with my teeth. I’d been attempting to deny it since the moment Mama had pushed me, but it was time to face the truth.
My mother was dead.
The guards would have killed her instantly. Perhaps brutally since they’d watched her defy the king and help me escape.
My eyes burned, but I refused to mourn my mother here with Lorian staring down at me.
This close, I could see all the different shades of green in his eyes. This was the man I’d dreamed of over and over again, and I still didn’t know why. A small part of me had hoped…
I killed that thought. The reality of the man was nothing but disappointment.
“I suppose your plan is to get to the city.”
“Yes.” I definitely wouldn’t be telling him about my plan to get to a ship. The less he knew about my life, the better.
“Can you use your magic whenever you please, or must you be in peril?”
This man was obviously trying to keep me shaken with the unexpected way he asked his questions.
“I’ve only used it a few times in my life.”
Galon took a step closer and shook his head. “Tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
I blinked at that. Lorian tightened his hands around me. Then he was getting to his feet, hoisting me up with him like I was a sack of grain. He planted me on the ground.
The casual demonstration of his strength was scary. Likely, that was his intention.
“I have an offer for you.” Lorian’s expression had turned contemplative. Any offer from him was unlikely to bode well for me. And while I’d made some desperate—albeit necessary—choices so far, getting involved with a group of mercenaries would be the worst choice of them all.
Since it didn’t seem as if these men were going to kill me, I took a big step back.
“I don’t want anything you’re offering. Remember that time you left me to freeze to death?”
He sighed. “Are you always this dramatic?”
One of his men snorted, and I trembled with the need to punch Lorian in the mouth. He merely raised his eyebrow at me, as if reading my mind.
“Yes. Yes, I am. A great reason for you to let me go.” “I don’t think so. You haven’t listened to my offer yet.”
I clenched my teeth. Maybe the smarter move was to listen. To study their weaknesses. “Fine. Talk.”
“We are also going to the city.”
It was my turn to snort. Of course they were. The mercenaries were either returning to a client, their job done, or heading to the city in search of work. The kind of work that would involve someone ending up with a much lighter purse—or worse…dead.
“And?”
“And,” he ground out, “we could use someone like you to help us arrive…undetected.”
Ah. Someone with magic like mine would be very helpful to mercenaries who needed to sneak into a city. “What exactly is it that you’re offering?”
“Three meals a day, a horse, blankets, and whatever clothes we can find to fit you. In exchange, you’ll help us at the city gates.”
“Wait. You want me to use my magic on purpose? In front of the king’s guards? Are you mad?”
My future flashed before my eyes. It featured flames, a jeering crowd, and my own agonized screams as I burned.
One dark brow lifted. “If you use your magic properly, no one will know we were there.”
“I don’t know how to use it!” “I will teach you.”
“You…can do that?”
What if I could learn to wield my power? I could use it to keep myself safe. With my gift, I’d have a much greater chance of staying alive.
Oh, he was good.
I snarled, pushing him away from me. “A pack of mercenaries who can’t be seen in the city? I get caught with you, and I’m worse than dead.” Their enemies wouldn’t just include the king’s guards. I’d wager plenty of rival groups would be pleased at a chance to take out the competition.
His eyes met mine. They were surprisingly clear. “Have you ever seen anyone burned at the stake?”
I swallowed. “No.”
“You don’t want to. And you certainly don’t want that death. If we get caught, I’ll give you a fast death myself.”
What a charming offer. “I don’t need you.” My voice was high-pitched.
Desperate.
I didn’t want to need him. That certainly wasn’t the same thing.
Lorian waved a hand, his expression bored. “You just tried to steal my horse. That impulsivity? It tells me you know nothing of surviving outside of your village. The very fact that you managed to last this long is a miracle.”
I hated that he was right.
I’d made it this far on stubbornness, rage, and blind luck. But traveling with the mercenaries meant food, warmth, and learning about my powers.
He was still studying me. I had a feeling those eyes of his could see far too much. “You wouldn’t have killed me.” He caught my chin between his finger and thumb. “You don’t have it in you to kill a man when he’s looking you in the eye.”
My mind flashed me back to the hunter’s last gurgling sound, and I took a deep, shuddering breath.
No. Focus.
“I made it this far. Alone.”
“Congratulations, you lived. But we both know you’ll never make it to the city by yourself.”
Gods, I loathed this man. I yanked my head. His fingers tightened on my chin.
As much as I wished I could deliberate, it wasn’t like I had many choices. I either died out here alone, I got caught by the guards who were trailing me, or I took my chances with these men.
He wanted a deal? I’d let these mercenaries teach me everything they knew about magic, and then I’d use that magic to abandon them close to the border. The way they’d abandoned me.
Sometimes, you had to take your revenge where you could find it. “Okay,” I said finally.
He released my chin and took several steps away from me. “We need to eat and then get a few hours of sleep. We’ll be up before dawn.”
As soon as Lorian stepped away from me, his friends seemed to relax. Galon still looked displeased, but I picked up his cloak from where I’d dropped it, wrapping it around me. Narrowing my eyes, I gave him my best hard stare.
The cloak was mine now.
The corner of Galon’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing, merely wandering away to collect wood. From the surprised look one of the younger men shot him, that wasn’t his usual task.
I needed to watch this group carefully. Needed to figure out their strengths and weaknesses so I could exploit the latter.
“Come, have something to eat,” one of the men said. I’d nicknamed him Smiley in my head, and he flashed it once again as he gestured for me to sit next to him.
I wandered over to him, taking a seat a few foot-spans farther from the spot he’d indicated. He merely held out a dish for me, already laden with some kind of meat. My stomach growled in response.
I took it, and he passed me a bladder of water. “You can keep that,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“My name is Rythos.” “Prisca.”
We ate in silence. I inched closer to the fire, still feeling cold deep in my bones. Most of the other men went back to sleep, but Rythos said he was
going to be on sentry duty soon so was happy to cook for me.
Maybe it was his way of making me lower my guard around him. That wouldn’t happen, but I’d happily eat his food.
Lorian prowled restlessly around the camp, checking the horses, throwing an extra bedroll on the ground, and sending me the occasional narrowed-eyed look. I restrained myself from making any comments designed to alienate him even more than I had. It was clear that he was the leader here, and his little band of mercenaries didn’t do anything without checking in with him first.
I wolfed down the meat, gulped half the skin of water, and gathered my courage. My next task wouldn’t be enjoyable.
Leaning over, I examined my filthy feet. A few of the cuts still oozed blood, one of them dark with grit. Risking infection would be the height of stupidity. I poured water over one foot until it was clean enough to bandage. Since I could feel eyes on me, I heroically didn’t wince at the sting. Examining my filthy dress, I attempted to find the cleanest part to tear from. “Here,” Rythos said, holding out a handful of clean strips of linen.
Mercenaries would have to travel with medical supplies. From what I’d heard from the men in my village, they were always fighting and killing and doing various other morally bankrupt tasks for coin.
“Thank you.”
“We have salve too.”
I raised my eyebrow as he handed it over. I could scent the brackweed, which had been ground into a paste and mixed into the salve. It would prevent infection. So far, Rythos seemed the kindest of all the men. Although, like all of them, he’d simply watched as Lorian had threatened to have me drowned. I wouldn’t forget that.
“Do you need help?” a rough voice asked.
I glanced over my shoulder. Lorian was watching me. A strange awareness prickled my skin as our eyes met.
I shook my head. “My brother is a healer.”
Surprise flickered across his face, immediately replaced by his usual inscrutable expression. “He heals small cuts and scrapes, and helps with the occasional mild sickness?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head and stalked away. I glanced at Rythos, who just shrugged, watching as I tended to my feet.
I didn’t know what Lorian had against healers, but I’d seen my brother burn himself out time and time again, attempting to heal vicious wounds and chronic sickness. When our father got sick, Tibris lay next to him for weeks, channeling everything he had into him until he’d been little more than skin and bones himself, too weak to summon his own power.
I’d nearly lost them both.
Now, Tibris was either in incredible danger or…
No. My brother was a survivor. He had people in place for just this scenario.
I studied the men as I finished slathering salve on my feet. Other than Galon, none of them had displayed any hint of their own power. I wasn’t sure exactly what Galon’s gift was, but he hadn’t used it again since I’d stumbled across their camp.
Since they knew what I could do, I needed to find out what kind of threat each of them presented.
As soon as my feet were bandaged, I took the blanket Rythos offered me and lay down on my bedroll, curling into a ball as close to the fire as I could get without getting singed. I was still freezing, but my belly was full, my wounds were bandaged, and my eyes burned with exhaustion.
I’d planned to stay awake, because these men couldn’t be trusted. I felt movement to my right and managed to crack my eyes open, only to find Lorian’s gaze on me.
Something about the assessing look in his eyes made a chill slide over my skin. He looked at me with predatory focus—as if I was a new, unexpected pawn and he was deciding which move he would play.
I shivered and closed my eyes.
