Carys pushed to her feet. She winced at the ache of the still-healing wounds on her back, but forced a smile as she said, “It was the only time we could talk without Andreus around.”
Larkin’s laughter rang in the cave. “Your brother was never interested in activities when he couldn’t be the center of our attention.”
“Well, I expect that animal will be the current focus.” Carys brushed past a stony-faced Errik as she followed Larkin toward the chill coming from the entrance. “Make sure you keep the fire going,” she called behind her. “If Larkin is as quick with a knife as she is with a needle, I’m sure we won’t be long.”
She shivered as she stepped out of the cave. Larkin finally dropped the rous to the ground when she reached a large tree at least twenty lengths away.
She glanced behind Carys and said, “My father taught me that it is always best to clean the kill far away from where you are making camp. Otherwise, the smell of blood and entrails could lead predators to you while you sleep.” Then she knelt down on a patch of ground free of snow next to the animal and pulled out her knife.
Garret was standing in the cave’s entrance watching them.
“We wouldn’t be friends today had you tried to teach me how to sew. What’s wrong? Do you think you won’t be able to find the Village of Night?”
Larkin sliced through the gray fur. “It is not the seers I have worry about.” Her knife stilled. “You brought Garret with us. There is much happening right now that I do not understand. But Garret . . .”
“What about him?”
“He doesn’t want you near me or Errik.” Larkin’s knife sliced efficiently through flesh and tendon. “For the last week, he has been trying to convince me to leave your side, first with promises of a marriage to a wealthy lord of Bisog. He seemed to think I would jump at the chance to become a lady.”
“Garret has much to learn about you.”
“It is you he is interested in. While you were . . . ill . . . he implied that it was his duty to care for you, as if you belonged to him. And once I awakened during his watch to find that he was not anywhere near the camp. He claimed to have climbed a tree to better see if there were any palace guards giving chase.”
“But you didn’t believe him.”
“I am not sure. What I am sure of is that he is jealous of any attention you pay Errik. If he could run a sword through him, he would in order to gain what it is he desires.”
“You think he desires . . . me?”
“I know it.”
Carys had no use for such attention. Not now. It just added to the confusion surrounding her.
“Errik does as well,” Larkin added.
Carys simply nodded. “And do you trust him?”
Carys hated that Larkin paused. She wanted Larkin to automatically answer yes. Instead, her friend said, “Lord Errik saved my life. He helped save yours. And the fact that he refused to leave your side when you were shaking with fever speaks to the feelings he holds for you. And yet . . .”
“What is it?” Carys asked.
Larkin frowned. “Since we’ve made camp, I’ve seen him staring southward as if he is waiting for something to appear.”
Or someone, Carys thought. Like his uncle. And if they all journeyed south, the way he suggested, she might walk right into their trap.
“I think we would be well advised to be cautious around both of them until we understand their motives,” Larkin counseled.
Carys’s stomach swooped as thoughts of Errik’s kiss flooded her. The warmth of the memory pulled at her heart, and she shoved it away, knowing she could not be so foolish again. Not with so much uncertainty around her and so much at stake.
“Now that I’m feeling more myself, you will no longer be alone in your caution.”
Larkin’s knife stilled and she slowly looked up at Carys. “Are you well now? Errik and Garret both swore you would recover, but you were so ill and if there is a remedy we should seek . . .”
“I am better,” Carys said. She wrapped her hand over her friend’s, and even as she said the words, she felt the yearning inside her for the Tears. The ache of the wounds on her back throbbed, and shame filled her as she squeezed Larkin’s hand tight.
Larkin believed in her. She believed she was strong enough to keep Carys safe. Carys wished with all her heart that her beliefs were based in truth.
Larkin deserved honesty. Or at least as much honesty as was Carys’s to give. “My illness was caused by a remedy. My father warned me the next time I showed the crown disrespect I would be lashed.” He thought she would heed his warning and fall into line. Had it not been for her need to help hide Andreus’s illness, she might have.
“I remember the shock in the city when you were taken to the North Tower for punishment,” Larkin said quietly. “I wanted to come see you, but my father said it would only make things worse for you.”
“There is nothing you could have done,” Carys assured her friend. But she wondered if anything could have changed the course that her life had taken, or if it was all in the stars as the seers suggested. “My mother brought me a remedy—something she promised would ease the pain. It did.” It dulled the ache of her body and the hurt she tried to bury in her mind. It took the edge off the anger and unhappiness that were so much a part of her. “So I took it until the wounds were healed and then kept taking it because I couldn’t stop.” No. That wasn’t the whole truth. “I didn’t want to stop.” The bitter words taunted her.
Carys swallowed it down and said, “I took too much when I was ailing and I continued to take it long after the pain of the wounds was gone. It became as necessary to my body and mind as water, or as air. I told myself not allowing myself the drink would make things harder—especially during the Trials of Virtuous Succession. But then I stopped taking it.”
“Why?”
The trees rustled. “The choice was not mine. My brother made it for me.”
Larkin’s knife cut deep into the rous and ripped in one strong stroke down its back. “Did Andreus know what that would do? Did he know how sick you would become?”
Carys nodded. “That was one of his reasons.”
“And now he is one of mine for doing whatever it takes to return to Garden City.” Larkin said as her next stroke severed the head. It rolled and bounced onto the cold, hard ground.
“No,” Carys insisted even as the whispers in her head began to swirl. “He is my brother. If any hand will strike at him, it should be mine.”
Larkin looked up, her hands slick with blood. “As long as your life is not in danger, I will not intervene. I’m not sure I can say the same for Errik or Garret. It is my guess that they both know what made you ill.”
Errik knew enough to have guessed the truth. Garret, meanwhile, had always seemed to know about her mother’s remedy and the hold it had on her. Years before, he had insisted she get free of the drug. He had warned about what might happen once her body was no longer under the drug’s spell. And also, he seemed to know about the wind when no one else, not even her own twin, did.
“How long do you think it will take to get to the Village of Night?” Carys asked as they walked back to the cave.
“When Father and I traveled by wagon, we avoided cutting through the forest. Then it took about a week from this location to the village I mentioned. If we travel the more direct path and ride hard on horseback, we should be able to reach it far more quickly. Perhaps three or four days.”
Once the rous was cooked, it tasted far better than it looked. Garret grimaced and poked at his portion, which annoyed Carys, but at least it gave her something to focus on other than the pull of the whispers in her mind.
As Garret questioned Larkin about what direction she planned to take them in, Errik whispered, “Princess, you should get some sleep.” He removed his cloak, rolled it into a ball, and placed it on the ground. “Here.”
Carys started to reject the offer, but Errik held up a hand and said, “Don’t worry, Carys. I wil
l not take your willingness to use my cloak as a sign of anything more than a lack of fondness for resting your head on rocks.”
Turning his back, Errik settled on the ground several feet away. Carys did the same, nestling her head into the coarse material of Errik’s bunched-up cloak.
Poor Larkin. Garret continued to insist he knew a better way to get across the district than the route she proposed. Carys attempted to cover her ears to drown out the sound. Errik’s scent clung to the fabric—filling her senses as she was pulled into sleep.
“Carys, wake up. They’re gone!”
She opened her eyes to darkness.
“They’re gone,” Garret repeated. “Errik and Larkin are missing. So are their horses.”
“Missing?” Carys sat up and blinked, trying to get her bearings. The fire was out. Everything was black. “Larkin? Errik?”
“Carys, they’re gone.” Garret put a hand on her shoulder. “I had first watch. Everything was quiet. I woke Errik for his turn and turned in. I woke up a few minutes ago and realized both Errik and Larkin were missing.”
“Larkin wouldn’t just leave.” She put her hand on the cloak she’d been using as a pillow. No matter what he might want from her, Errik had gone to such trouble to get her to this point it was simply illogical that he would vanish now.
“Perhaps they were lured away or maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?”
“I know you have trusted Errik in the past, and Larkin is your friend, but while you were ill, they always had their heads together. How do you know he has not convinced her to betray you to whatever kingdom or Elder he has allegiance to?”
“Larkin would never betray me.”
“And Errik?”
Her heart thudded hard in her chest. Errik was a Bastian—Imogen’s cousin. A member of the family that wanted to reassert its claim on the Throne of Light. “He helped me survive.”
“For which I am grateful, however . . .” Garret looked toward the entrance of the cave.
“What?” she demanded.
“Errik has been directing our travel since we left the Palace of Winds. He claimed it was the least likely direction anyone would think we would take, but what if the attack we fought off today was not by chance? What if Errik has been trying to deliver you to Adderton?”
“No,” she insisted even as her stomach twisted with dread and the whispers began inside her mind. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“Do you think it is coincidence that this occurs the very night you announce that we will travel west—away from those with whom Errik might be trying to rendezvous. And don’t you think it is strange that the guide for your travel has disappeared along with him?” Garret placed a hand on top of her arm. “Princess, your loyalty is hard-won and steadfast. You stood by your brother even as he demonstrated over and over that his allegiance was only to himself. The price for that was nearly your life. Can you risk making that same kind of mistake again?”
She pictured Errik’s eyes—warm and teasing and filled with secrets. Was one of them that he had always intended on betraying her? That he was willing to put Larkin’s life in danger to get the power his family desired?
She grabbed Errik’s cloak from the ground and scrambled toward the cave’s entrance. The moon was fading in the sky, but the sun had yet to rise. Everything was still as Carys bundled her cloak tight against her and hurried toward the horses.
Two mounts were missing and whatever footprints they’d made in the snow had been brushed out. Just as Errik had suggested they do earlier.
“We have to go after them. They couldn’t have gone all that far.” Carys turned to go back to get her travel bag, but Garret had already grabbed it and was striding forward to secure it to her horse.
“Why don’t I go?” Garret insisted. “You stay here. I can cover ground more quickly by myself, and you can be here in case Larkin finds her way back.”
He could either cover more ground or pretend to. Garret was at odds with both Larkin and Errik. With both of them removed from her side, his opinions would not have as many detractors.
“Besides, you are still recovering your strength. You should stay and let me . . .”
“I’m going,” Carys said. The more he insisted she should remain behind, the more worried she became. Besides, trusting Errik had been her decision. She had to deal with him if he had betrayed her. “Make sure the horses are ready.”
Before Garret could irritate her further, she hurried back to the cave and ducked inside. The blackness enveloped her as she felt her way toward the center of the space to where the small fire once crackled. If Garret was wrong about Errik, and Larkin returned and found her missing, Carys needed to leave a message for her friend to find. She pulled a piece of charred wood from the small pile, and drew three letters—VON—on the rock just inside the opening. Then, brushing her hands on her skirt, she headed out to where Garret was waiting with their horses.
The moon shone as they galloped south. The wind whipped through the scraggly trees and raged inside her head as she scanned the horizon. Her friend and Errik had to be out there somewhere.
Only there was no sign of them. Just trees and shadows and snow as Garret and she pushed their horses to go faster across the frozen ground.
A rusty shriek cut through the air.
Carys’s heart jumped. Her breath caught. She reached for her stilettos and looked over her shoulder.
There was nothing but snow and trees.
Another cry scraped the night.
And then she saw them. Three shapes in the distance coming fast. Large. White. Hooked claws extended as they loped on their tall legs toward Carys and Garret.
Xhelozi.
“Run!” Carys dug her thighs into her mount and headed to the open ground to the west. Garret’s horse matched hers stride for stride as they flew across the icy earth. Angry screeches chased after them. Carys clutched the reins tighter and leaned over the neck of her horse, urging it to go faster.
“Head for the woods!” Garret yelled over the swoosh of the wind.
“No!” Carys yelled. “We have to stay in the open.” The Xhelozi thrived in the darkness and shadows. As much as she wanted to hide, their best course of action was to keep running—because dawn was approaching. And with dawn came the best weapon they could use against the Xhelozi—the sun.
Their horses’ hooves thundered.
The Xhelozi screams cut the air.
The wind howled in her mind and bent the bushes and trees behind them.
Branches cracked.
The monsters from the mountains’ cries sounded fainter than before.
Carys clutched her cloak tight.
“Look!” Heart pounding, she pointed to the sky that was tinged with pink against the gray of the night. The sun was starting to rise.
The Xhelozi shrieked in protest of the dawn. They stopped their attack, turned, and began to run in the opposite direction. In the blink of an eye, the immediate danger ended.
Breathing hard, Carys pulled on the reins and brought her horse to a stop. Panting, Garret pulled up next to her. “Are you okay?”
“No. The Xhelozi never stray this far from the mountain. Especially not this early in winter.” The skies were lighter for longer now than they would be in a few weeks’ time.
He studied the horizon with a frown. “Clearly, it is not just the wearer of the crown that has changed in Eden. Something has altered for the Xhelozi as well.”
A wave of fatigue threatened to overwhelm her. Larkin was out there. Somewhere. Carys had no clue where to start looking, and now the Xhelozi were hunting in places they should not be. “You’re right,” she agreed. “Something has changed for the Xhelozi since the last cold season. The question is what?”
6
His mother.
Andreus pulled his cloak tight with one hand and clutched the hilt of his sword with the other as he strode across the battlements. The air was almost still. He should have noticed, but his focus had
been on other things. The wind was something Andreus had always been able to count on. The air consistently blowing down the mountains was one of the reasons the palace had been given its name. Only now the wind was faltering, and because of his mother’s command, one that kept all the lights in the palace shining instead of conserving that power for the past few weeks, there might not be enough light to keep the city safe until the wind blew strong again.
His mother had put them in danger. Why?
Andreus grimaced as he hurried into the stairwell of the northeast tower, then stopped and listened for the sound of anyone who might be following.
Nothing.
He flexed his throbbing leg and cursed the wind-powered lights shining bright as he hurried down the halls. He should have insisted the Masters set up torches and shut down the lights tonight, but the abrupt change would cause members of the court and servants alike to panic. He could almost hear his sister warning that it would take but a matter of hours for that spark of concern to turn into a full-fledged hysteria in the city below. Fear, of any kind, would only make matters worse. He had to project calm and control. There would be no safeguarding against the Xhelozi or Adderton’s forces if Garden City devolved into chaos.
Andreus limped down the hallway that led to the rooms he’d lived in since he was a boy. Two guardsmen snapped to attention as he ignored the door that led to his sister’s empty rooms and hurried to his own.
Graylem scrambled to his feet as Andreus stepped inside. Max was curled around a pillow, sound asleep on the deep blue rug that was set in front of the fireplace. Max was safe. No matter what it took, Andreus would make the choices required to see that he stayed that way.
“I ordered food for him while he waited for you to return, Your Majesty,” Graylem whispered. “Only he fell asleep before he had the chance to eat. Other than the kitchen maid who brought the tray of food, no one has approached me or the boy.”
Andreus studied the guard’s earnest face. The freckles and shock of rust hair made him look more boyish than fierce. More dance instructor than warrior. It was a perfect face for an Elder to select with orders to gain Andreus’s trust. Perhaps that was the wrong conclusion to jump to, but Andreus had only to look at the sleeping boy to steel his resolve as he reached for the hilt of his sword. A King could not afford to spare those who might know his weaknesses and potentially use them against him.