Thorne drew closer to the edge of the hole, scratching his chin. “This is how the wendigos infiltrate the grounds so easily. They tunnel under the walls.”
“They did appear out of nowhere.” I shivered, rubbing my arms. “Let’s see this task done before the sun sets.”
“Agreed.” Thorne led the way into the barn. After a quick sweep of the space, he motioned for me to follow.
All the paddocks were empty, those who’d escaped using the horses to ride to safety. Or at least I hoped they’d escaped.
I hurried to a rustic set of stairs, hustling up to the loft. In the corner, I found a small crate used as a table, along with a pallet of blankets. On the box was an assortment of hand-carved figurines. I smiled to discover the one Speck had sculpted of me. My head was entirely too large for my stick body, but it was clear his skills were improving.
All of his worldly possessions remained. A single change ofclothing, an oil lamp, and a collection of hag stones with holes in the center. Nothing was missing.
Speck never made it back to the barn. My chest squeezed.
“Where are you?” I whispered.
“Right behind you.”
Thorn’s voice jerked my heart into my throat, and I spun, clutching my chest. “Damn you.”
He smirked at my discomfort. “You seem awfully familiar with the hayloft. What did you claim your position was here?”
“Excuse me?” My temper spiked at the insinuation.
Unfazed, he flopped onto Speck’s pallet, plucking a piece of straw from beneath the blanket and tucking it between his lips. “Spent a lot of time rolling in the hay, have you?”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and anger burned hot in my veins. This was exactly why I avoided telling him I was a slave. Already, he treated me like latrine scum. If he knew, I’d never hear the end of it.
I clenched my fists, jaw tightening. “Horse’s ass.” I stomped down the stairs.
“Swayback nag.” He hopped to his feet to follow.
Back on the lower level, he turned to face me, signs of humor gone. “Admit it. This sudden need for medicine? Total nerf-shit. You lied, coming here for some shady purpose. What was it? To rob the high ruler?”
“Do you always assume the worst in everyone?”
“When people stop fulfilling my lowest expectations, I’ll stop assuming.”
I stomped to the back wall, selected an amber bottle from the shelf and held it aloft. Before he could spit out another insult, I grabbed a grain satchel, stuffed it with the supplies, and slung it over my shoulder, shooting him a glare.
“This way. I know a hidden entrance into the keep.”
Once more, Thorne captured my wrist, sending a jolt of lightningup my arm. He turned me to face him, tension crackling between us.
At the lack of humor in his expression, I swallowed the objection forming on my lips.
“It may be daytime, but that doesn’t mean the interior of the manor is safe. There could be darkened areas where the creatures lurk. We need to take the quickest route. No detours to search through the underwear of missing friends.”
For once, I ignored his crass comment. “Agreed,” I said, unable to hide the tremor in my voice.
Together, we entered the remains of the manor, both falling silent for a time. Through several out-of-sight hallways, I guided Thorne along the paths only servants used.
Of course, the silence didn’t last. Even when our lives were at stake, Thorne couldn’t resist tormenting me. “You know much about the hidden corridors of this place. What was your role? That of healer?”
“Among other things.” Ha. He wasn’t the only one who was mysterious.
“Don’t the Puritans value their healers?”
“Usually. So long as their medicine is derived from natural means with no trace of magic. My mentor, Yaga, was well respected.”
