I tried to ease Rafe’s arm from my stomach so I could sit up, but even that small movement sent blinding jolts through my back. Sven sat upright, alerted by my movement and whispered, “Don’t try to get up, Your Highness. It’s too soon.”
I nodded, measuring my breaths until the pain receded.
“Your rib is most likely cracked by the impact of the arrow. You may have cracked more bones in the river. Rest.”
“Where are we?” I asked.
“A little hideaway I tucked into many years ago. I was thankful I could still find it.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Two days. It’s a miracle you’re alive.”
I remembered sinking in the river. Thrashing, then being spit up, a quick gust of air filling my lungs and then being pulled under again. And again. My hands clutched at boulders, logs, everything slipping from my grasp, and then there was the fuzzy recollection of Rafe leaning over me. I turned my head toward Sven. “Rafe found me on the bank.”
“He carried you for twelve miles before we found him. This is the first sleep he’s had.”
I looked at Rafe, his face gaunt and bruised. He had a gash over his left brow. The river had taken its toll on him too. Sven explained how he, Jeb, Orrin, and Tavish had maneuvered the raft to the planned destination. They’d left their own horses and a half dozen Vendan ones they had taken in battle in a makeshift paddock, but many had escaped. They rounded up what they could, gathered the supplies and saddles they had stashed in nearby ruins, and began backtracking, searching the banks and forest for us. They finally spotted some tracks and followed them. Once they found us, they rode through the night to this shelter.
“If you were able to find our tracks, then—”
“Not to worry, Your Highness. Listen.” He cocked his head to the side.
A heavy whine vibrated through the cavern.
“A blizzard,” he said. “There will be no tracks to follow.”
Whether the storm was a blessing or hindrance, I wasn’t sure—it would prevent us from traveling too. I remembered my aunt Bernette telling me and my brothers about the great white storms of her homeland that blocked out sky and earth and left snow piled so high that she and her sisters could venture outside only from the second floor of their fortress. Dogs with webbed feet had pulled their sleds across the snow.
“But they will try to follow,” I said. “Eventually.”
He nodded.
I had killed the Komizar. Griz had lifted my hand to the clans who were the backbone of Venda. He had declared me queen and Komizar in a single breath. The clans had cheered. Only producing my dead body would prove a successor’s claim to rule. I imagined that successor to be Malich. I tried not to think about what had happened to Kaden. I couldn’t allow my mind to drift there, but still, his face loomed before me, and his last expression of hurt and betrayal. Had Malich struck him down? Or one of his other countrymen? He had fought against them for me. Ultimately, he chose me over the Komizar. Was it the sight of a child’s body in the snow that had finally pushed him over the edge? It was what had pushed me.
I had killed the Komizar. It had been easy. I’d had no hesitation, no remorse. Would my mother think of me as little more than an animal? I’d felt nothing as I plunged the knife into him. Nothing when I plunged it in again, except for the slight tug of flesh and gut. Nothing when I killed three more Vendans after that. Or was it five? Their shocked faces blended together in a distant rush.
But none of it had come soon enough to save Aster.
Now it was her face that loomed, an image I couldn’t bear.
Sven held a cup of broth to my lips, claiming I needed nutrition, but I already felt darkness closing in again, and I gratefully let it overtake me.
CHAPTER TWO
I woke to the sound of silence. The howl of the storm was gone.
My brow was sticky, and strands of hair were plastered across my forehead. I hoped dampness was a sign the fever was breaking. And then I heard strained whispers. I carefully slivered my eyes open, peering from beneath my lashes. There was soft light filtering through the cave, and I saw them huddled close together. What secrets were they keeping now?
Tavish was shaking his head. “The storm’s over, and they’ll be on the move. We need to go.”
“She’s too weak to ride,” Rafe said in a low voice. “Besides, the bridge is damaged. They can’t get across. We have time.”
“True,” Sven said, “but there’s the lower river. They’ll cross there.”
“That was a good week’s ride for us from the Sanctum,” Jeb countered.
Rafe took a sip from a steaming mug. “And now with the snow, it will be twice that.”