Glints of autumn slivered through the trees, shaking the few sparse leaves with one last quiver as if saying good-bye. Winter was impatient, already frosting the early mornings in white. I wondered what Tor’s Watch would look like in winter. The dark towers would be striking against a white, snowy landscape.
Today we would arrive. Jase thought it would be just before nightfall, but even darkness closing in could not stop him. He sat forward in his saddle as new vistas came into view, eager, scanning the horizon as if he expected to see someone he knew, his skin itching with the closeness of home. Tonight we would be sleeping in beds at Tor’s Watch. We would be eating dinner at the family dining table. Our new life would be beginning.
The yearning stirring in me came as a surprise. Maybe Jase’s unflagging belief that this was just the beginning was taking hold in me too. I was eager for what was to come, but at the same time, a swarm of nervous bees hummed in my chest. Somehow, I would have to fit into a close-knit family that shared a history and traditions. And there were other worries.
We’ll get our answers soon, Jase had promised, because uncertainty was a worm that ate through both of us. We both desperately wanted to know the meaning of the note and what had really happened to Samuel, but my stomach twisted at the thought of Zane. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him, at least not afraid of what he could do to me anymore. Natiya and Eben had taught me all the ways to kill someone, even without a weapon. I was far better trained than Zane. But I was afraid of what he might tell me.
I had been terrified the night that I asked him about my mother. In an instant I became a child again, my bones turned to liquid, the uncertainty I had punched down for years suddenly alive. And now I would have to face that moment all over again when I faced Zane. That fear had warped into a new question—could the answers be worse than not knowing?
Just kill him, Kazi, I told myself. It’s what you always planned to do. Kill him and be done with it. You don’t need answers. I had lived with doubt for this long—I could live with it forever. Justice was all I cared about. Answers wouldn’t change anything. My mother was gone.
How can you be certain she’s dead?
Jase’s question had been as fragile as a robin’s egg in his palm. He had held it out carefully to me, as if the shell were already cracked. Of course, I couldn’t be certain she was dead. Not really. I had never seen her body, but I had taken a dream and molded it into a conclusion somewhere along the way, a carved piece of puzzle that fit into the shape of my life.
I had been certain, for so long, that one day she would find her way back to me, or if I only looked a little harder, one day I would find her. And then one bitter winter, when many Vendans had died already, I was curled up, shivering in my hovel, blue with the cold, thinking I might be next, and I heard a noise.
Shhh.
It was only wind, I told myself.
Kazi.
It was only my rumbling belly.
Shhh.
I was so cold already, frozen to the marrow, but I raced outside anyway, searching, desperate, not wanting to be alone, the snowflakes whirling in cutting blades, drifts numbing my feet, wind whipping at my face, and then … there was a curious calm. Against the startling white that made the empty streets of Venda unrecognizable, I spotted something.
Had it been a shivering frozen dream? Delirium fueled by hunger? Even then, none of it had really seemed real. How could I explain to Jase something that even I didn’t understand? I saw my mother, her long raven hair trailing in a loose braid down her back, with a crown of fresh green vines woven atop her head, like the kind she used to weave for me on holy days. She was spring in the middle of a harsh winter. She turned, her eyes warm amber pools, looking into mine as if trying to send me another one of her silent signals, her lips mouthing my name—Kazi, my beloved, my chiadrah—and then she turned and walked away from me, but now
someone was beside her. He looked at me too. Death. She looped her arm through his and then she was gone. But Death lingered a moment longer. He looked at me, then finally stomped his foot in warning, and I ran back to my hovel.
Maybe you saw what you needed to see so you could move forward? Jase suggested.
I had mulled that possibility over in my head countless times since then. Had it only been the desperate loneliness of a girl finally letting go? She had already been slipping away from me for months and years, my guilt rising as my memory of her faded, and that guilt would spike a renewal of my search for her.
Maybe seeing her that night was her message to me to stop waiting for her to return. So I would stop looking.
Except some time after that, I began looking for someone else. One way or another, I couldn’t quite let go.
Since that night I had seen Death many times—and that was no dream. Maybe he had always been there, and in the busyness of trying to survive, I simply hadn’t noticed. Or maybe once a dark door has been opened it can’t be shut again. Now in unexpected moments I heard the warning whispers of ghosts, and Death took pleasure in taunting me, pushing me. He became like a quarterlord I was determined to beat, and the prize was my life.
“Apples!” Jase called out suddenly. He was already steering Tigone to the low branches of the trees, plucking ripe red apples as he went. He tossed some to the ground for the horses and gathered more in the folds of his cloak before he dismounted. He bit into one, slurping up its goodness, then shrugged. “I called them first, but I might be convinced to share with you.”
I looked down at him from my elevated position. “For a price, I suppose?”
He grinned. “Everything comes with a price.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course it does.” I slid off Mije and ambled toward him. “But even for an ambassador?”
“First it’s an apple. Next thing you know, you’ll be wanting your own office.”
I wrinkled my nose. “A little office for an ambassador? Oh no. I had my eye on one of those big fancy apartments at the arena. Top level.”
“Those are quite costly, I’m afraid.” He circled his arm around my waist and gave me a bite of his apple, then kissed me, the sweet juice wet on our lips.
“Well, Patrei, just what might it cost me?”
His brows rose. “I think it’s better if I show you.”
We kissed again, banter still playing between our lips as he pulled me to the ground. I knew the lightness, the play, the laughter were his gifts to me, a promise that no matter how close we were to Tor’s Watch and whatever challenges it held or objections his family voiced, we would not lose the perfect beauty of these last weeks. It would not change anything between us. He didn’t need to say the words again. I felt them in every kiss. This was just the beginning.
 |
It was as if Mije sensed we were near. Without a nudge, he picked up his pace, eager for his rest and fresh sweet hay, which the Ballenger stables always had in abundance. Jase had been right about the timing. The sky was striped with purple, dusk closing in fast as we headed for the back entrance at Greyson Tunnel. A shimmering black cloud, alive with bats heading out for their evening meal, streamed above us.
Jase looked at me, the dusky sky flecking his brown eyes with soft light. “Stay close beside me,” he said. “I don’t want Priya taking a crack at you. She has a temper, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Priya? A temper? Noo,” I mocked. “I never would have guessed.” I could handle Priya, but I really didn’t want to. I wanted to make our transition back into Tor’s Watch as uneventful as possible, and not antagonize the family any further.
“By the time we make it through the tunnel, the news will probably already have reached the house. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole family is waiting on the front steps for us.”
He said it as a complaint, but I knew that was exactly what he was hoping for. The whole family—including Samuel. That if the note was
written by Jalaine, it had been a hasty overreaction, another case of panic that held no truth. That’s what I was hoping for too, though the prospect of confronting his whole family on the front steps in just minutes snatched the breath from my chest. I knew I had to get it over with. Deal with their anger and move on. We had a plan. They would be part of it.
We finally rounded the last copse of trees and emerged on the open slope that led to Greyson Tunnel. The towering black silhouette of Tor’s Watch loomed before us against the evening sky.
But something about it was wrong. Very wrong.
Jase pulled back on Tigone’s reins, staring. I stopped too, trying to make sense of it.
The skyline had changed. The silhouette made no sense.
Between the spires of Riverbend and Raehouse there was a gaping hole, as if a hungry monster had taken a bite out of it. The center black spindle of the main house was gone, and as my eyes adjusted to the shock, I noticed there was more that was gone.
The wall.
The front fortress wall near the entrance to Tor’s Watch—the solid rock wall that was four feet thick—had a cavernous gap, and jagged piles of rubble spilled down the mountain. The guard towers were gone too.
“This can’t—” Words froze on Jase’s lips. A shocked second passed and then he bolted toward the destruction.
“Jase! Stop!” I shouted. “It might not—”
A powerful whir split the air. And then another. Arrows. I circled in place, trying to see where they were coming from.
Jase heard them too and pulled back. He was about to turn Tigone around when an arrow struck his thigh. He grimaced, still trying to turn, and another pierced his shoulder, sending him recoiling backward. Tigone reared.
I still couldn’t see where the shots were coming from. It seemed to be from everywhere. I raced toward Jase. “Baricha!” I yelled at Tigone. “Baricha!” The command for “run,” but the arrows kept whirring, and Tigone reared again, uncertain which direction to turn.
Jase was yelling the same to me: “Run, Kazi! Go back!” Then another arrow hit him in the chest. In a split second, two more lanced his side. He slumped forward.
“Jase!” I screamed as I reached him.
No arrows had struck me. They were only aiming for the Patrei. His eyes met mine, hazy. “Go, get out of here.” His last words before he fell forward on Tigone.
Dark cloaked figures descended upon us from all sides, surrounding us like yelping hyenas, shouting strategies to one another. Get him. I pulled a knife with one hand and my sword with the other and rolled from Mije, landing on my feet swinging, taking down the first cloaked figure that was already reaching to pull Jase from his horse. I doubled back, swinging at one coming at me from behind, slicing his head off, and yelled, “Baricha!” this time to Mije. He followed my command and galloped back toward the forest. Jase lay lifeless over Tigone’s withers. I rolled to avoid the swinging blade of a third attacker, jerking my knife upward to slash his hamstring, then stabbing him between the ribs as he stumbled forward. I shoved his body aside and prodded Tigone’s hindquarter, slapping her with the broad side of my sword, as I shouted, “Baricha!” again, praying she would follow Mije before more of the attackers closing in could grab Jase.
It worked. Tigone barreled through the cloaked figures, knocking three of them down. But almost in the same moment, I was caught from behind, a hood flying over my head, the world fully black now. My weapons were wrested from my hands, but I continued to fight and heard a snap like a melon cracking open when my boot connected with the firmness of someone’s skull. I pulled my small boot knife free and stabbed backward over my shoulder into the face of whoever held me around the throat. A scream split the air and the arm fell away, but as I reached up to yank off the hood, a fist punched into my belly, and a sharp pain doubled me over. I was thrown to the ground, and a knee pounded into my back, pinning me to the rocky ground.
The voices erupted in a new frenzy. How many were there? They had been lying in wait for us. An ambush. They knew we were coming. Who else knew Jase was coming home besides Gunner?
“Stay down, bitch!” “After him!”
“She killed Iersaug!” “That way! Go!” “Bloody hell!”
“He won’t get far!”
“Stay with her! I’ll get him!” “Search the grounds for others!”
I heard the fading gallop of someone chasing after Jase. I struggled against the weight that had me pinned. Run, Mije. Deep into the forest where it is dark. Please, by all the mercies of the gods, run. Don’t stop. I can’t lose him.
My head swam, nausea striking as my arms were jerked behind my back. They tied my wrists and legs with rope. The ground beneath me was warm and wet, and I smelled something—the salty tang of blood. Mine?
It was only then I realized that the fist that punched me had held a knife. And just before the chaos faded and the darkness deepened, I realized something else.
I recognized one of the voices. It belonged to Paxton.
