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After making my way up to my room, I paced, debating the merits of stealing a horse from the stables and striking out on my own. There were definite benefits to traveling with the mercenaries—including
their hunting and cooking skills, and the fact that they seemed to know all the best routes to avoid the guards.
But there was no doubt that a single woman traveling with five men drew attention. I could pull up the hood of my cloak, but I couldn’t disguise my build.
Finally, I fell into bed and slept the sleep of the half dead. Each time I stirred, awoken by a loud laugh from the hallway outside my room or the voices of angry drunkards below me, I immediately slid back into a sleep so deep, I could only hope Lorian didn’t have us up before dawn.
A scraping noise sounded. My eyes shot open, my body tense. A hand slammed down over my mouth. A huge, callused hand.
I screeched, bucked, kicked, clawed.
“Uh-uh,” the bearded giant from earlier snarled. Cool metal wedged against my neck. “Be nice, little bird, or I’ll slit your throat and leave you to drown in your own blood.”
My lungs burned, my throat screamed for air. I sucked deeply through my nose.
Beard pinched my nostrils closed.
I thrashed, hitting out uselessly. Black dots danced at the edges of my vision.
He lifted his hand. “Can’t have you dying too early.”
I panted, inhaling sweet, life-giving air. My limbs had turned weak. Blind terror punched into my gut. My heart stuttered. I couldn’t die like this. In a cheap inn, far from home. I refused.
“Be smart,” Tibris’s voice whispered in my head. “Wait for your chance.”
I slid my hand under my pillow and wrapped my fingers around the cool hilt of my knife. I breathed. Stilled. Waited.
The giant’s eyes glittered. His nose was broken, one eye puffy and swollen. Clearly, he was holding a grudge.
And I was the one who’d pay for it. He looped a rope around my wrist.
“I’m going to kill you and leave you hanging at the inn entrance.” He grinned, leaning close, and his noxious breath made my head spin. “See how your man likes that.”
I could see it—Lorian and the others looking for me in the morning, only to find my dead body strung up in the inn. Cold, slimy fear burrowed into my chest and stayed there.
Beard hauled me up from my bed as if I were a kitten. Now.
I slid my hand out from beneath my pillow and slashed at him.
The blade caught his ear, even as he ducked. He knocked the knife from my hand, the beginning of a yell leaving his throat.
He instantly cut it off with a glance at my door.
Within a second, the rope was looped around my neck, and he had me pinned to the bed once more.
I clawed at my throat like a wild animal, desperate for air.
A shriek rose in my head. The sound was high-pitched. Primal. Full of retribution.
It drowned out the couple arguing in the alley below us. It smothered the taunt of the giant on top of me. It consumed my fear and doubt, until only one word remained.
Stop.
The giant froze.
Sobbing, I ripped his hand off my mouth. But I was still pinned.
Roaring filled my ears. I tossed wildly beneath the giant, pushing with everything I had.
My right leg came free. I planted that foot in Beard’s side and heaved. Free.
Run.
Don’t look back.
Scrambling off the bed, I sprinted toward the door, howling for help. Pain erupted in my scalp, and I dropped to my knees.
“Magic, huh? You’ll make me a rich man, you little bitch.” I fumbled, my hand sweeping along the floor for the knife.
Beard pulled me up by my hair, and I shrieked, my scalp burning. I swung, slashing out with the knife.
He howled, his hands clamping over his shoulder as blood sprayed. I stabbed at him again, and he dropped to his knees. I screamed wordlessly, driving my foot into his gut.
And then my room was full of furious males.
Lorian took one step inside and threw the giant across the room. Rythos stepped in front of me, blocking the scene from my vision.
“Give me the knife, darlin’.”
I stared up into Rythos’s face. His eyes blazed with fury, but his expression was calm. His hand was gentle on mine, and still, I flinched as he unwrapped my fingers from the wooden hilt.
He handed the knife to Galon and then wrapped an arm around me. Safe. I was safe. I’d begun to shiver, and he tightened his arm. “Don’t look over there. Come with me, Prisca.”
I allowed him to lead me to their room. A few of the men followed, but I was dimly aware of Galon staying with Lorian. Other guests were flooding into the hallway. One of the women caught sight of my shirt and the blood staining it. Her mouth fell open, and she let out a wild shriek.
Rythos growled and I jolted, not used to such a sound from him. He reached out and brushed a hand over my hair, but his gaze stayed on the woman. She shut her mouth.
Rythos sat me on the lone chair in their room. I stared at the wall while the men talked in hushed voices.
“Don’t do that.” Rythos’s voice was gentle as he pulled my hands from my throat. I’d been scratching at it, as if that rope were still wrapped around me. My cheeks heated, and I took a deep breath, burying my hands in the blanket he placed on my lap.
Lorian stepped into the room. His knuckles were bruised, and a muscle twitched in his cheek when he looked at me. “Tell me what happened.”
My throat thickened until I could barely breathe. For some reason, a ball of shame was burning in my chest.
“Prisca.” His voice was gentle, and he crouched in front of me, the remaining fury drained from his expression. “If you can’t talk about it…”
The unexpected gentleness shook some of the fog from my mind.
“I-I was in such a deep sleep. I woke, and he was already in my room.
How did he get into my room?”
I loathed how small my voice sounded. Lorian’s jaw clenched. “It’s likely that he stole a key from the innkeeper. The idiot’s lying in a drunken heap by the fire.”
I nodded, still feeling as if I were stuck in a nightmare. As if I were about to wake up at any moment.
“You don’t need to talk about it,” Lorian said.
Our eyes met and held. Not pity. Sympathy and banked fury, but he wasn’t looking at me like I was a victim. That look made me steadier.
“No. No, I want to.” I took a deep breath. “His hand was on my mouth, and he pinched my nostrils until I couldn’t breathe. He said he was going to kill me. And then hang me up where you’d find me.” Nausea made my stomach swim, and Marth let out a rough curse from somewhere behind me. “We fought. I used my…my power.” I said the last word in a whisper, conscious of anyone who could be listening at the door. “He only froze for a second, but it was enough for me to take the knife and run for the door. Then his h-hand was in my hair, and he pulled me back. I slashed out. And I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.”
I’d been like an animal. All I’d known was fear. Fear, and the knowledge that I’d do anything to survive.
Marth opened the door. I hadn’t noticed him leave. He stepped back inside the room and handed me a cup of tea.
I took a sip. Peppermint. The scent both calmed me and cleared my head. “Thank you.”
“You did everything right.” Galon’s voice was rough, and he crouched next to Lorian.
“We need to leave,” I said. “Surely the authorities were summoned?”
Lorian gave a disinterested shrug. “An attempted murderer was felled by a tiny woman. Everyone in this inn just watched him stumble away. No one will be summoning the authorities tonight.”
I ignored the tiny woman part. “Are you sure?”
“The innkeeper is too drunk, and any guests have been suitably frightened by Rythos’s glare.”
Rythos snorted. The gentle ribbing between the men settled me more than the tea had. Some of the tension in my chest began to drain away.
“You’ll sleep in here tonight.” Lorian got to his feet. “We’ll leave at first light.”
I glanced around the small room, at the bedrolls that covered almost every inch of it. As much as the thought of going back to my own room made my stomach swim, I couldn’t see where exactly I could sleep in this room.
“Uh…”
“Get in bed. Here.” He took my empty teacup and handed me a clean shirt. I stared down at myself, suddenly revolted by the splatter of blood across Rythos’s shirt.
“Sorry,” I muttered to Rythos. “Never mind about that.”
Marth stepped forward, looking suddenly awkward as he handed me a damp cloth. “For your face.”
My lower lip trembled. Who would’ve known this group of hard-faced, tough mercenaries had mother-hen tendencies?
I took the cloth and wiped at my skin, ignoring the rust-colored residue that transferred from my face.
The men all politely turned their backs as I changed my shirt. I climbed into the bed, and despite the fact that I was now surrounded by mercenaries, I felt strangely safe.
They somehow found room on the floor for Lorian, and within a few minutes, the lamp was dimmed.
I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, my breath caught in my lungs, and I felt his hand over my mouth, felt his
fingers pinching my nostrils closed. Felt the rope, unyielding and rough around my neck.
My eyes burned. I gave in to the tears that rolled silently down my face. And I wept. It was as if once I allowed myself to mourn, I cracked open the stone wall I’d erected between myself and the reality I’d tried so hard to ignore.
My tears dripped onto my pillow. For the village I’d never see again. For Tibris, either dead or running for his life. And for my mother, who was gone from this world. I’d forced myself not to think of her. Attempted to focus on the fact that she’d kidnapped me and then lied to me my whole life. But…
She also cared for me. She loved me. I knew that much. She’d done her best to ensure I kept my magic hidden as a child—continually moving villages to keep me safe.
And if the priestesses were right, Mama was now drowning over and over again in the waters of Hubur. Because she’d helped me hide from the king’s guards. Because she’d protected me.
I was the reason she was dead.
And I would have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life.
Her face flashed in front of my eyes, and my shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
All I’d been to my family was poison.
A warm hand came out of the darkness, and I jolted, swinging out. “We’ll work on your form tomorrow,” Lorian said.
“What—what are you doing?”
“Can’t sleep for your sniffling. Move over.”
I moved automatically. When he sat on the bed, I froze.
“Figured you’d be going over it in your head,” he said gruffly, grabbing a pillow. “Sleep, savage woman. I’ll keep you safe.”
My breath hitched again, this time for a different reason entirely. I lay down next to him, studying the ceiling. He fell asleep almost immediately, his soft breaths steadying me. Across the room, Marth began to snore, the sound a low rumble. I closed my eyes, trusting that if anyone else came for me, these men would keep me safe. At least for tonight.
