When I’m finished, I come back to where Pruinn has already hitched and fed the horses. Fortunately for us, the bottom of the cart was loaded with bales of hay and a couple bushels of food. Even with rationing, our supply has already dwindled to half.
We haven’t discussed what will happen if the horses run out of hay and can no longer carry us. Or what will occur once our own reserves run dry. I’m not sure I want to know.
I walk over as he’s finishing up with the animals, the sky dim. A drab veil is cast over it, as if even the clouds feel subdued this morning. “How many more nights am I expected to be out in the elements of Sixth Kingdom like this?”
He rifles through his shoulder bag, pulling out a familiar pouch. After digging into it, he hands me an oat bar. That, plus jerky and dried fruit, makes up the entirety of what we’ve been living off of, along with melted snowfall for water. “Since we’re getting such an early start, we should be out of it by tomorrow.”
My hand drops, oat bar and thirst forgotten. “We’ll be out of the elements tomorrow?” I say, hope burgeoning in my tone. There are no cities or villages out this way, of that I’m sure, but perhaps a traveling merchant such as himself knows of a lone homestead? Somewhere that we can sleepinsideand be fed something more than travel packs?
But Sir Pruinn shakes his head, pulling the hood of his coat over his shorn blond hair, just as it begins to lightly snow. “Not the elements. We’ll be out of Sixth Kingdom.”
This stops me short. “Already?”
“Remember the map?” he says with a smile, his gray eyes almost twinkling. My hackles rise, because he’s talking about the map that apparently shows me how to reach my heart’s greatest desire. “It showed me a shortcut.”
My back stiffens. “Of course it did.”
“I thought that would make you happy, my queen.”
Would it make you happy, Princess?
I grind my teeth loud enough to drown out the memory of Tyndall’s words in my head, and then spin back toward the cart, settling myself into it for another long day of endless traveling. Toward what? I’ve no idea. Perhaps it’s all a lie, and Sir Loth Pruinn, the strange albeit magnetic traveling merchant, is nothing but a fraud. Perhaps he’s leading me to the ruined Seventh Kingdom, where he’ll toss me off the edge of the world.
I would be happy.
Fool.
Naive, ignorant fool.
CHAPTER 23
AUREN
It’s been a whole week. Seven days of training. I sleep until dusk, by which point Slade has already disappeared to wherever he goes, and then I get dressed and come here to train with Judd until I want to pass out. Then I wash myself as best I can without getting my bandages wet, and join everyone for dinner.
I don’t cook it. I think we’ve all agreed that’s for the best.
After dinner, I usually join in with the others playing cards while Hojat reads or mixes up some new tincture to try on Digby or myself. The storm still hasn’t stopped. I can hear it blowing through the entrance of the cave at all hours, raging against the shelter of the Grotto.
And me, I stay up long after everyone else goes to bed, not falling asleep until dawn. I don’t trust myself to be up with the sun. But…I haven’t gilded anything. Not a single time. Not even while I’ve laid asleep in the bed. My borrowed clothes are the same brown and black color as before, the blankets and furs on the bed untouched by my power.
I don’t know what that means, but I’m silently stewing in worry, avoiding the topic at all costs.
When I woke up in that cave and felt the power coursing through me, I just needed it tostop. To be shut away. Because my gold can’t be trusted. Especially not that facet I’ve never even known that I was capable of before.
Now…now it seems like it’s broken completely. As if whatever I did in Ranhold that night has changed my gold-touch irreparably. But I’m just going to focus on getting stronger physically for now. So I sleep the daylight away instead of obsessively worrying about why my gold-touch seems to have dried up.
“You’re looking at your feet again.”
Judd’s voice makes my head wrench up. “Sorry.”
“Can’t have your eyes buried into the ground,” he tells me. “Or the beam. Now take three steps forward. No looking.”
I bite my lip, fighting every instinct to look down. The wooden beam beneath my feet must be at least ten feet long. When I came into the Teeth yesterday, it was waiting for me in the very middle of the room. I can’t even imagine how heavy it must be. When I asked Judd, he said Slade and Ryatt had brought it in earlier for me. I’m a bit disappointed that I missed the sight of them carrying it.
For the past two days, I have been doing nothing but these beam exercises. It’s forcing me to re-learn how to balance. I’ve fallen off more times than I can count. My legs ache, the arches of my feet feel sprained, and even my toes are sore. But I don’t quit.
“One,” Judd counts as I place one foot in front of the other. “Two, three... Good.”
