I should have stolen a compass.
Not exactly the perfect escape, but it’s not like I’ve had any practice doing this sort of thing.
Miss Horse seems to be working out well, at least. I’ve been alternating between galloping and walking her all morning andshe hasn’t had any issues yet. Of course, I’ve been keeping her on the road, which maybe isn’t smart for a recent escapee to do, but finding my way through the woods when I can hardly see the sun through the canopy made even less sense. Not to mention, with my luck, she’d step in a hole or slip on a rock, break her leg, and I’d be left to walk through the woods alone.
As if riding my thoughts, the pounding of hoofs sounds behind me. Dammit.See, this is why you shouldn’t think, Katya. You’re too stupid.I stoop over, pull my stolen coat more tightly around myself and hang my head so my dark hair dangles over my face. I don’t dare turn around to see how many there are. Instead, I steer Miss Horse over to the very edge of the road and pray to Casmir for his protection. Gods, if I’d only been able to take Mama’s bracelets, I could have used the Nymn charged sythra to change my appearance.
The pounding gets louder and louder as the horses approach, and my heart is pounding along with them. They’re going to catch me, I know it. They’re going to catch me and torture me until I’ll say anything to make it stop, then they’ll hang me alongside Leodin, because why not? We couldn’t stand each other in life, so of course we should spend the afterlife suffering together.
The horses are drawing closer. They aren’t slowing at all, which gives me hope. At the same time, I’m slightly terrified I’m going to get trampled. There have to be at least a dozen riders by the sound of it. Would they really go through all that trouble for me? I get my answer when they barrel past without so much as a second glance my way, spitting dust and gravel into my face. They’re definitely Solstyr’s Bellatorae soldiers by the golden sun crest decorating their uniforms—though these are the more informal blacks of the army,not the fancy guard uniforms I saw at the palace. Soon, I can see nothing but their dust, and I blow out a breath.
That was close.
I have no idea how long I’ve been traveling on this road. Long enough for an even larger contingent of Bellatorae soldiers to pass by. I pray to Mother Nochte they aren’t headed for Dom Duje.
The rain started hours ago, a deluge that darkened the sky and instantly soaked through every scrap of my clothing and boots. My teeth chitter and my fingers clutch numbly onto Miss Horse’s reins. I need to find some place to hole up for the night or Miss Horse and I will freeze to death long before we reach Duje. Unfortunately, whatever magic I conjured at the palace disappeared as quickly as it came, so duping anyone into giving me a place to stay is out of the question. I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure it out. Could it be some human magic from my father’s side? Mama rarely talks about him except to say he left with the other humans during the war. Maybe if I tell her what happened, this time, she’ll actually answer my questions instead of telling me to leave the past in the past.
Searching for shelter in this downpour is difficult, to say the least, but I eventually spot a barn set back a little off the road and steer Miss Horse for it.
The barn doors’ hinges are horribly rusted, and it takes all of my little remaining strength to haul them open. One good thing about the rain, at least, is that it muffles sound. I have a feeling the screech emitted by this door would have been heard throughout all of Feridas without it. I lead Miss Horse inside. It’s musky, and the air is so thick with the scent of hay, manure and livestock, I can practically taste it. But it’s dry, if not entirely warm.
We’re greeted by a snorting pig, a cow and a couple of goats as we walk down the center aisle. The very last stall is blessedly empty and clean, so I secure Miss Horse inside, remove her tack and do my best to rub her down with numb fingers. Then I make a little bed out of a few bales of hay, and I’m out the moment I shut my eyes.
I’m floating on calm water. It cradles my body in its warm embrace, the gentle waves rocking me like a babe in its mother’s arms. Above, the sun sparkles in a clear blue sky, and the salty brine of the sea air tickles my nostrils. A breeze sweeps across the surf. It mists my face and swells the waves, and my body rides the undulating tide, rising and falling as it wills. I struggle to stay afloat—treading water the way mama taught me. Mama? Where’s mama? I search around myself, but there’s nothing. No boat. No land. No people. Only water stretching as far as the eye can see in all directions.
A bolt of lightning splits the sky, followed by a clap of thunder so monstrous, it bows my eardrums and rattles my chest. The sky grows darker, the waves larger. I am swept upon the current, the tide tossing me about like a rag doll. Arms and legs flailing, I go under. Panic twists my belly and dulls my wits. There is no light, no noise, no way to distinguish up from down. The water has turned thick and viscous, and no matter how much I pump my arms and legs, I go nowhere. I let out a scream and with it all the air in my lungs. Unable to hold my breath for a moment longer, I inhale. The taste of copper fills my mouth, and suddenly, the water is gone.
I’m kneeling on a rough stone floor, pebbles digging into my kneecaps. I open my mouth to breathe, but a torrent of red liquids spills out. It’s blood. The guard’s blood I ingested along with chunks of tissue and thick clots that just keep pouring out of me. Tears rain down my face. Cramps grip my belly. Gods, please make it stop, I pray.
Finally, the tide begins to ebb, then halt altogether. I suck in air thick with the taste of metal and collapse onto the now dry floor. There, sprawled across the ground, hand gripping his bloody neck, is the guard I killed. He stares at me with sightless eyes, but his lips are moving. The words are so soft at first, I can’t make out anything more than a murmur. Then he speaks again, louder this time. “Who are you?” he asks, his voice heavy with accusation.
“I… I…” I begin.
“Who are you?” he asks again.
Then again, “Who the fuck areyou?”
I wake with a start to find a fae lady with golden hair and shrewd hazel eyes standing over me. Her arms are crossed, and a furious expression sours her pretty face.
With shaking hands, I rub the sleep from my eyes. I’m so strung out from the nightmare, I’m struggling to process where I am or why there’s a lady dressed in a male’s shirt and trousers, shouting at me. “I… I’m sorry?” I ask.
“I said, ‘Who. The fuck. Are you?’” she repeats.
I sit up and look around. The barn. This is the barn I snuck into last night. And this lady is probably the owner. “I’m Katya,” I say, my voice raw. Had I been screaming? I shake my head against the thought. “I—I mean, we”—I gesture toward Miss Horse—“got stuck in the rain and just needed a dry place to rest. We’re not trying to cause any trouble.”
The lady looks me up and down, glances at Miss Horse, then back to me. “You look like a drowned rat.”
I let out a huff. “I feel like a drowned rat.”
Just then, my empty belly decides to grumble loudly.
“A hungry rat,” she says with a sigh. “Come along, then. I’m not going to leave you out here to die of starvation.” She spins around and waves a hand for me to follow.
Now, I am fully aware this lady could be a raving lunatic who’s luring me back to her house so she can dice me up and serve me to the pigs, but I’m so hungry right now, I’m willing to take that chance. I rush after her, out of the barn and down a muddy path between fields of wheat. I don’t see her home until the path opens into a clearing where a stout little stone house sits, smoke rising from the chimney.
“I’m Peg, by the way,” she says, opening the door for me.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply, though it seems an odd thing to say to someone who just found me hiding out in their barn. By the way, Peg’s brows pinch together, I’d say she thinks it’s a bit odd too.
