“Oh,” I whispered. “That’s awful.”
I’d known that Maz and Aiden had met in the sunstone mine and escaped together, but I hadn’t known why Maz was imprisoned there.
Why were so many children doomed to lose their parents in such unjust ways? It bred nothing but resentment and revenge.
If only there was a better way. A better king or queen who protected their citizens instead of using them and who sought friendship with neighbors instead of trying to steal what wasn’t theirs.
Aiden, the true Rellmiran heir, emerged in my thoughts. But I tossed him back out. He would never be my king. Rellmira needed someone without blood on his hands.
An argument broke out just then as Maz tried to take over one of the oars, and his uncle or cousin—I couldn’t rememberwhich—gently shoved him back to his seat. Yarina butted in, saying she could row one-handed, and they refused her as well.
I offered to row, but was met with quirked eyebrows and shaken heads. Which suited me fine. I didn’t know if I could keep up with their perfect rhythm.
The last bit of light had bled from the sky when Maz suddenly grabbed my arm. “This is it, lovely. We’re home.”
Chapter 7
Kiera
We rounded another bend,and a large meadow came into view. Dense forest formed a protective ring around it, and the mountains rose much closer, their peaks blocking out part of the starry sky.
In the meadow, dozens of domed lodges and tents glowed by the light of a dozen fires. Shadowy figures dipped in and around the little village. Dogs barked and horses grazed in a wooden pen. The sweet smell of wood smoke and roasting meat made my mouth water.
The river met the meadow on a gently sloping beach where other boats rested. As soon as our boat slid to a stop on the gritty sand, a shout went up within the village.
Once more, it was mayhem as dozens of Dags rushed out to greet our party. I jumped from the boat and skirted the tangle of hugs and conversation.
I spotted Nikella doing the same from her boat, but so did a huge Dag who broke off from the chaos and rushed toward her.
I tensed, taking a step in their direction. But then my mouth dropped open as the man swept her into a bone-crushing hug that knocked her hood from her head. She seemed to haveexpected it, though, because she angled her staff away from him. She gave him a one-armed embrace, then shoved him off.
“Enough, Jek,” she grumbled, pulling her long hood back up.
The handsome older Dag bowed, his silver grin matching his long hair and beard. “Of course, my beautiful Teacher. I just wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”
“And now you have.” Nikella straightened and strode to the village, leaving Jek to stare at her with what I could only describe as a love-struck expression.
I swallowed the incredulous laugh that rose in my throat.
Nikella seemed at ease no matter the task at hand—building bombs in a secret room of the Temple, keeping me prisoner, killing enemies with her spear, healing wounds on a ship. Yet this was the first time I’d ever seen the enigmatic Teacher uncomfortable.
I hurried after her, tucking that bit of information away even though I had no idea who to ask about it.
Nikella wove through the village until she came to a huge, central bonfire. She moved to the other side of it and sat next to Aiden, who reclined on a fur blanket, talking to a gaggle of wild children. A few of the older children beamed at Nikella and surrounded her as well.
Discomfort fishtailed in my chest. I fruitlessly rubbed at it.
They had people here who knew them and—by the looks of it—loved them. They belonged.
It doesn’t matter. You’ll be leaving soon, anyway. These aren’t your people. This isn’t your family. Remember who’s waiting for you.
Iturned to leave, but immediately ran into Frieda, who gave me a gentle shove toward an unoccupied blanket.
“Stay, child. You must eat, and we must remember.”
I dutifully sat and was soon pinned in by Maz and Yarina, who dropped to either side of me.
We passed wooden plates of juicy meat and mugs of something that smelled like mead around the fire. I didn’t know what kind of meat it was, and I didn’t care. I tore into it like I was starving.
