Her nostrils flared, back straightening stiff, and she lifted her chin again. “Now, who’s the Dreamer?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NYSSA COULDN’T SEE where they were walking.
Even with the fire torches lit around her, she was still having a hard time moving over the roots. Gail had decided he and four of his people would escort her across the Preymoor to the Noble’s estate instead of his entire company. The air was getting colder by the day, and she once more found herself wishing she’d worn heavier clothing when she’d run away.
Then again, she hadn’t exactly planned on being gone more than a day at the most.
Being kidnapped by people she’d only just learned about a week prior was not at the top of her list.
Gail had hardly spoken to her while they traveled, only commenting on her keeping herself hydrated so that she did not die before meeting the Noble.
Nyssa hadn’t stopped watching him interact with the small company he’d brought along. There were two women in the company, both of which hadn’t said a single word to her. Part of their job, she realized, as the sentries and support guard. To stay quiet and alert. To not get distracted. It seemed the pair of them were the only ones Gail trusted to keep a watchful eye out for any intruders. They moved in shadow as he did… of stealth and grace. They reminded her greatly of Balandria.
The other two men he’d brought along could not have been more different from one another. One reminded her more of a Blackhand. So much so that she’d actually asked Gail if he was. But Gail only chuckled, telling the man about her question, and the man had chortled so loudly birds had risen upwards from the trees.
She wasn’t sure what was so funny about her question.
The fourth man… Nyssa learned was an Infinari-marked Infi… One of the mutilated beings she’d noticed in his company on her first day. She hurt for this man. He was taller than Gail, white hair strangled its way down his back, some of it in braids she was sure hadn’t been touched or redone in weeks. His skin was pink and white, as though it had forgotten its actual color before the scarring had occurred. He never wore a regular shirt over his lean body, just the long black cloak-like coat with an oversized hood that hid his mutilated skin from the sun. He looked like the sun was hurting him, and he would hug that coat tighter, pouring his body in shadows instead of sunlight. But it was the dark yellow of his eyes that would startle her every time he looked her way. Not yellow like the Infi had been at Magnice. She remembered those eyes. She remembered the way they glowered at her. Even when their heads had been in the stockade with her sister’s axe on its way down towards them.
This man’s eyes were different. Kinder. Sadder. She could see the pain of his even being alive reflected back in every part of his body. His face looked as though it had once been handsome, reminding her of her brother’s own long features. This man was one of the original marked-Infis. Possibly as old as the Age itself. Before the mutation of the marked-Infis turned them more like the true Infis. Those at her castle had been marked-Infis from before Draven was crowned king, but they differed from this man. More manipulative and volatile.
Her heart broke for him. It was not his fault that he’d been marked Infi.
This was Duarb’s curse.
She wondered how he’d survived this long.
It was on their second night that she’d nearly fallen asleep, tucked into a ball by a rock, when she felt herself being wrapped up in something soft. Her first reaction was to balk, jump at the suddenness of someone touching her.
Gail had placed a fur over her shivering body.
Nyssa forced a deep breath as she met his dark hazel green eyes, the weight of the blanket wrapping around her as a comfort she didn't know she needed.
“Thank you,” she managed.
His hair fell over his shoulder when he nodded, and then he sat back on the ground, his slow movements still puzzling her like he was trying to conserve energy.
“Can’t have our Princess freezing, can we?” he muttered, holding his palms out to warm them by the fire.
It bothered her that she hadn’t figured him out yet. Everything she’d learned and watched of him puzzled her.Everything. From the way he’d spoken to her the first night, telling her of his plans, but not pounced to slice her throat when she’d provoked him. The kind way he treated the Infi, how he spoke to his soldiers, laughed with his men…
Nyssa sat up, and she watched him again as he pulled his pipe from his pocket. The wind billowed over the grass, the rake of it shimmering over the sharp blades of the meadow's soft green. She hugged the blanket tighter, pulled her knees into her chest, and held her own hands out to warm them.
“Say what you mean, little Sun,” Gail rasped, having apparently felt her gaze on him again. “Else, you’ll have me pushing you against that boulder tonight and showing you what it really means to be taken to the Edge… maybe then you’ll stop eye-fucking me across the fire.”
“You have Infi in your ranks,” she stated, ignoring his banter.
“She sees something other than me,” he mocked. “I wondered if you were paying attention to anything else after all that stumbling you did earlier.”
“Draven would never have allowed them in his kingdom,” she continued. “Why have you?”
Gail lit his pipe from the fire and puffed on it before exhaling the smoke in her direction. The wind brushed the smoke in her face, and she couldn’t help herself from breathing it in, the sweetness of it reminding her of her brother’s herb.
She had to tighten her jaw at the memory, but it didn’t stop her heart from constricting in her chest.
“These Infi were once Infinari,” Gail said. “What our father marked them as was not always true. He chooses favorites, only marking Venari with those he wants as kings. It’s why we challenged Draven when Parkyr died.”
