“She ran away from me. You should’ve seen her lovely face.” Maz sighed. “I hope she’ll at least stay the winter with us. If we’re still alive.”
She won’t. She’s probably far beyond our reach by now.
Regret prickled in my chest, but I ignored it. There was nothing I could do about it now.
I twisted around to check on the rest of our party. Jek and a few other warriors rode ahead while Sigrid, Davka, and Yarina kept close behind us.
Farther back in the line, I spotted Nikella’s gray horse and her long-hooded cloak through the golden foliage. Good. I wasn’t sure why she was riding so far back. But she’d been a little skittish around Jek, so perhaps that was why.
Nikella had joined forces with the Yargoths much the same way I had with Maz in the sunstone mine. For almost twoyears, she’d worked with Jek to help us escape. I lived with the Yargoths for a while after that, but Nikella returned to her nomadic ways.
She and Jek had always seemed close, but perhaps something else had strained their friendship.
Maz and I talked little as we continued to ride for hours. Any time the path straightened out, Jek urged our party to ride faster. But soon, the sun had disappeared, and the sweat on Wicked’s coat grew cold.
Just as Maz started to grumble, Jek gave the order to make camp.
He’d chosen an area close to the river with some roughage for the horses. A few rocky outcroppings provided a buffer from the bitter wind that kicked up in the darkness.
Our thirty-seven warriors broke into groups. I helped manage the horses while others built fires and retrieved water. By the time I finished unsaddling and watering the horses, a few fires crackled near the river. Someone had set a pot of water to boiling on a few propped branches.
Most of us had brought nothing but weapons and what was already packed in our saddlebags. I’d had the forethought to toss my father’s ring to Frieda for safekeeping before galloping away.
Thankfully, Nikella had a pouch of dry meat and vegetables to add to the water, so no one had to hunt. The tantalizing scent of stew made my stomach growl, reminding me I hadn’t eaten all day. But first, I needed to ease my thirst.
I slipped down to the riverbank. A shadowy figure hunched over the rushing water. A woman, judging by her slight frame. But she wore a cloak instead of the usual Dag furs and capes.
She turned, brushing her cloak aside to scoop water from the river with her hands. A gold hilt glinted in the faint light.
My heart jerked in my chest. No. It couldn’t be. I was never meant to see her again. She would never...
“Kiera?”I rasped.
She spun around, water dripping from her lips and fingers. Was it only five nights ago I’d stolen a kiss from that mouth? In my drunken state, I’d thought to take something back from her, but she’d stolen my thoughts and dreams in the following days and nights, anyway.
And here she was, armed with only her mother’s gods-damned sunstone knife and staring at me with that defiant tilt of her chin.
“Don’t bother telling me to go back,” she said, her voice harsh. “I’m not doing this for you.”
My eyebrows tightened. “I didn’t think you were.”
Her gaze shifted, as if my agreement surprised her. Her fingers danced around her waist the way they used to when searching for her usual throwing knives. Instead, her hand settled on her mother’s knife hilt.
I remembered her expression when she’d threatened me with that knife in Renwell’s office. Her grip had held little conviction, but her words and her eyes had contained plenty.
“I will never forgive you.”
I’d told her to try and stab me then because I knew she wouldn’t. When really I wanted to say that her gods-damned knife had already harmed me more than it ever could in her hands.
“Nikella said she would teach me the sword,” Kiera blurted out, misreading my intense gaze on her knife.
I scowled. “And you think you can be proficient enough for battle tomorrow?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Perhaps. But I intend to do as Nikella advised and simply make sure any villagers, especially children, are out of harm’s way.”
I blew out a breath. That was something, at least. I didn’t doubt Kiera’s skills as a lone street fighter or a tavern hustler.But to fight as a unit with weapons she’d never used against a ship with catapults? I wanted her as far from that as possible.
And what was all this about Nikella? My mentor must have interfered for reasons known only to herself.
