Silence falls between us again. He still hasn’t said where he’s taking me, and it seems rather clear he’s not going to. I settle back in my seat and sigh. Another cool breeze winds through the trees, ruffling the leaves overhead, a relief after the pressing heat in the city. After our bickering, I wait for tension to build between us, but . . . it doesn’t.
As usual, Alek is right beside me, and somehow I can’t summon the same hatred that I inevitably feel when he’snot.
He flinched. Heflinched.
I peer at my hands. I have a tiny scar at the tip of one finger, the remnants of an injury I acquired while repairing the barn door back at my bakery in Briarlock. When it happened, Lord Tycho offered to use magic to fix it.
I flinched, too.
I swallow. Maybe thiswasa betrayal. I made myself vulnerable to Alek, but I suppose he made himself vulnerable to me, too.
“Maybe I should have told you,” I say quietly.
He nods in agreement. “Yes.”
I hold my breath, weighing my next words carefully. “Do you understand why I couldn’t?”
He draws a quick breath, as if he’s going to be as flippant with thatas he is with everything. But then he stops. His mouth forms a line. Storm clouds roll through his eyes again.
Eventually, he frowns, then turns away from the road to look at me. I hold his gaze, again startled by the turmoil I find in their depths.
But I have no idea what he was planning to say, because the horse spooks, lurching sideways. The trap rocks hard, then overturns. Wood cracks and splinters. I crash into the rocky path before I’m even aware of what’s happening. Alek is shouting to the horse, pulling at my arm. Too late, I realize that the horse is scrambling in its panic, and the flipped vehicle is nearly dragged right over us. Alek shoves me out of the way at the last moment. The harness leather snaps, and the horse bolts off into the trees.
“What happened?” I say. “What spooked the horse?”
Ice- cold wind whistles down the road, making me shiver. Ice forms on the rocks around us, and I stop breathing.
A scraver drops straight out of the trees to land on the path in front of us. Wings outstretched, claws bared, black eyes glittering in the shadows.
Alek’s grip is tight on my wrist. “That,” he says.
CHAPTER 8
ALEK
I’m impressed at how quickly Callyn scrambles to her feet. I’ve seen scravers before, but my most recent experience was when they were trying to tear me to shreds. Just now, the memory of it flashes in my brain, a winged monster swooping down from the sky, claws and fangs bared. I have a sword in hand without even thinking of it, but my palm already feels slick. I tighten my grip.
Butthisscraver doesn’t attack. She’s landed on the road ahead of us, and her wings are half spread defensively, as if she could launch herself into the sky at a moment’s notice. She’s terrifying and beautiful at the same time, with gray- and- purple markings on her skin that continue onto her wings. Her hair is darker in color, though still streaked with broad strokes of gray and deep purples. It’s full of tangles and hangs to her waist, and a few dried leaves are caught among the strands. She’s not quite clothed, but she’s not naked either. Leather is strapped to her body, and I can see sheaths for weapons, but they’re all empty.
I grab Callyn’s arm to put her behind me, and I’m shocked when she resists.
“What are you doing?” she grinds out. “I have magic.”
Like I need a reminder. “And I have asword.”
The scraver still hasn’t moved. “If I wanted you dead, you already would be.” Her voice is light, but there’s a rough quality to it, as if she doesn’t speak often. Her eyes, all black, flash in my direction. “You will put your weapon away.”
“No,” I say. “I won’t.” I adjust my grip on the hilt.
A cool wind sweeps across the road, and ice forms on my sword, crawling up the length of the weapon, a slow gathering of crystals along the steel.
“Fascinating,” I say, biting back a shiver. “But it’s still just as sharp.”
The scraver takes a step toward me, and I automatically shift, my blade lifting to defend myself. Her wings snap wide, and her lip curls, revealing the edge of her fangs. Years of training have taught me how toseethe moment before an attack. It’s a flicker of eye movement, a tightening of muscles. A shifting of weight.
I see itnow.
To my surprise, Callyn shoves my sword arm down and steps in front of me. I nearly shove her back again, but then she turns her glare on me. “Stop. Juststop. I remember her.”
