I’d had two backup plans for today, but neither had included a traitor, and both had included a horse. Not to mention I had made the dire mistake of tucking my gloves in my saddlebag. I thought I would be going back for them.
My fingertips bled as I scrambled up the steep face of the mountain, roots and rocks scraping my freezing skin raw. Dusk was closing in, the sun already gone behind the mountains, and temperatures were rapidly dropping. The wind cut through me like icy knives.
I told myself the pain, the pain everywhere, from my shoulder to my head to my leg, was good, like hunger in a belly. It would make me more determined, sharp. I told myself a lot of lies to keep me going. Because every step I took made Lydia and Nash safer.
It had always been part of our plan to lead soldiers in the opposite direction, far away from the graveyard so Binter and Cheu could arrive after dark to quietly retrieve the children from the tomb and take them to the settlement. Paxton would circle back late that night to make sure they were gone. That part of the plan was still intact. I’d had soldiers hunting me all day long, spotting me and then losing me again. They were like wolves salivating with my scent, the graveyard long forgotten.
Bleeding fingers meant nothing. Cracked ribs and a swollen shoulder meant nothing. Leading the soldiers away meant everything.
At least now I was in the mountains behind Tor’s Watch, far from the graveyard. When I got to the top of the ridge, I began searching for someplace to hide for the night—a deep cave where I could light a fire—but there was none. I wouldn’t make it through the night without some sort of protection. I hollowed out a place between the roots of a tree, wrapped myself tightly in my cloak, then pulled the rotting mulch of the forest floor on top of me for insulation. My bones creaked. They ached like a crumbling house settling into the earth. I felt things squirm beneath my clothes and crawl over my scalp. I prayed none of them were poisonous.
My eyes were already heavy, closing.
Sleep, my chiadrah. Sleep.
I felt my mother’s hand, cold on my cheek. Heard the rustle of a leafy blanket covering me.
“Am I dying?” I asked.
No, my beloved. Not yet. Not today.
* * *
In the morning when I woke, I couldn’t move. It was as if every bone in me had been sewn to the earth. They refused to be punished any more. I lay there wondering if this was how I would die, that a soldier would find me and all I could do was watch as he plunged a spear into my chest.
But it was morning. The first rays of dawn shimmered through the trees. Morning. The thought sent a different kind of heat streaming through me—Lydia and Nash were safe.
By now they were with Jase. It didn’t matter if they were all stuffed down in a dark root cellar. They were together, and out of the king’s clutches. That was all that mattered.
Paxton had assured me that Binter and Cheu, who were his straza, had done far harder things than whisking away children in the middle of the night. And they were both partial to Lydia and Nash, and more stubborn than winter frost. They would do this as long as we did our part.
We had done our part. I felt a weight lifting, a silver stitch pulling tight.
Today my goal would change. Keep moving. Stay alive. Truly evade the soldiers. And find the other entrance to the Ballenger vault. His family needed to know Jase was alive—and that they had a weapon hidden right beneath their noses.
I rubbed my muscles with my good arm, forcing warmth back into them, and finally struggled to my feet.
There! Something over there is moving!
I ran. As much as I could run.
The king would not give up until he had me—and his magic—back in his grip.
* * *
I had made it to the far side of Tor’s Watch when I heard a noise. I hid behind a tree. Horses. A jingle. Creaking. I silently slid to the ground, then peeked past the forest at the road that Jase and I had once ridden down together. It was the back road that connected Tor’s Watch to the arena.
The noise grew louder and then, between the trees, a wagon came into view. It was piled high with hay—and Zane was driving it. I sank closer to the ground. Jase had told me he was the one who had made all the supply deliveries to Cave’s End for Beaufort and his crew. But he was an esteemed lieutenant of the king’s army now, and still making deliveries to Tor’s Watch? Deliveries of hay for horses? Zane and the wagon disappeared through the trees, but then four heavily armed soldiers came into view riding right behind him. He had an escort? Or did they just happen to be riding in the same direction?
A jay screeched over my head, and the soldiers’ heads turned. I pressed my chin into the dirt. Blood pounded in my ears. The jay continued to squawk like it was trying to point me out. Shut up, you stupid bird! Shut up! It seemed like the soldiers were looking straight at me, but then their eyes scanned the treetops
and they moved on—and I ran.
* * *
I shivered on the floor of the rocky alcove, pulling my cloak tighter. I had heated stones at dusk, but they had long since cooled, and it was too dangerous to light another fire. I had covered so little distance today, and here I was, my third night on the run. I tried not to be disheartened, but I wasn’t sure I could make it through one more night. I rewrapped my fingers with my chemise I had torn into strips.
The hidden vault entrance couldn’t be far from Tor’s Watch, but with soldiers thick around me, I had to go many directions I didn’t want to go.