He shrugged and parried a halfhearted thrust from Lex. “Thanks to Lex and his refusal to let me turn his shirts into bandages, I only have one left. I’m not going to sweat in it.”
“It’s hardly safe to spar without one.”
“Oh really?” he said as his shortsword clashed with Lex’s. “I hadn’t noticed because Lex isn’t trying hard enough.”
“My arm hurts,” Lex said, then muttered something about Teryn showing off. That was when Cora realized what this little performance was all about. Teryn was trying to prove that they were useful. Skilled. That their aid would serve her.
Oh, the tall one is very strong, isn’t he?
Cora cut a glare at Valorre.Do you have a crush on Teryn?
What is crush?
Never mind. She returned her gaze to the boys, watching as they set down their swords and drank from skins of water. Teryn shrugged on his hunting vest just as a familiar shape veered down from the sky. Berol landed on his padded shoulder, a scroll tucked in her talon.
He sent her away in the middle of the night, Valorre said. He didn’t seem concerned, but she narrowed her eyes with suspicion.
“What’s that?” she asked.
He met her eyes over the paper he was reading. “A letter from my father. I sent Berol with a note telling him I wouldn't be coming home for a while.”
She clenched her jaw. That meant he’d already assumed she’d say yes to his proposition. It made her want to deny him outright.
He walked toward her, a questioning look in his eyes. “Have you decided?”
She found her words trapped in her throat as he held her gaze. He held it too long. Too unflinchingly. Blinking, she averted her eyes and pondered his question. Her time was up. She needed to choose.
Her gaze returned to his and she found that his eyes were in the process of sweeping over her form. His assessment made her breath catch. She dared not open her senses to him. Dared not read too much into his gaze. For surely he couldn’t find much to be desired when he looked at her. She was a mess of tangles. Of soil and stone. Of petticoats tucked around her legs like pants. He was a prince, a man used to soft women with even softer demeanors.
She lifted her chin, reminding herself she didn’t care what he thought of her. Not her appearance, not her personality, and certainly not her romantic appeal. He was a prince determined to make amends where his honor had failed. She was a witch with vengeance in her heart and violence in her soul.
“Put a shirt on,” she said, sneering at his bare chest as if it were repulsive to her. It wasn’t, but that was one of many secrets she was determined to keep. “It’s time for us to go.”
“Us,” he echoed. “As in…the three of us.”
Valorre sidled closer to her, making his approval clear.
“Yes,” she finally said through her teeth. “Now, hurry up or I’m leaving without you.”
28
For two days, they traveled northwest for the Cambron Pass. They kept a decent pace with Cora riding Hara. After throwing most of Helios’ personal items into the campfire, she’d kept all his useful belongings and took his mare for herself. She was surprised the animal was so amenable to new ownership. Based on the many snide remarks Teryn and Lex had made about Helios, she’d assumed his horse perhaps wouldn’t respect her. Hara, however, was as even tempered as Cora could hope. Valorre took it upon himself to remind her who was the better of the two of them, and Cora always made certain to reassure him that, yes, he was the most magnificent and fearsome creature of hoof and mane.
Berol flew overhead, sometimes going so far as to become a pinprick in the distance, other times diving for prey or riding on Teryn’s shoulder. She was curious about the prince’s relationship with the bird. Not enough to ask him about it, of course. She made it her mission to speak as little as possible to the boys. The less they knew about her, the better, and she had no interest in getting to know them. They were temporary allies, not friends.
By the end of the second day of travel, the Cambron Mountains loomed large ahead. On the third, Cora found the first notable tracks.
She felt her nerves begin to fray the closer they came. Taking down the first group of hunters had been a harrowing enough experience. Now she was going to do it all over again. This time she had help, although it was still up for debate whether they would prove useful.
Each night, Cora’s exhaustion was so deep that she’d fall asleep within minutes of bedding down on her newly acquired bedroll. Her slumber was—thankfully—deep and dreamless. But on the third night, after a day of tracking, stalking, and inching closer to her prey, she dreamed.
* * *
The nightmare started muchlike any other. She walked down a dark castle hall, following the pull of some terrible wrongness. Every step sounded hollow in her ears. The smell of dust and rot filled her nostrils, tickling the back of her throat. She walked forward, for that was the only direction that existed in this strange dream. A few steps more and a serving tray appeared in her hands. Then the door. That horrible, dreaded door.
She knew what she would find inside. This time, she didn’t fight it. This time, she ran for it, knowing the sooner she saw the room the sooner this dream would end. Her feet flew beneath her as she reached the threshold. Even though she’d known what she’d find, the sight of the dead queen still took her breath away. She froze in the doorway, the tray slipping from her hands. Morkai stood at Queen Linette’s side, his hands drawing the blood from the sheets, from her lips, from under her nose. Blood that seeped from no visible wound. He stopped and whipped his head toward her, and the scene shifted in an instant. Morkai wasn’t manipulating the blood, he was gesturing out of shock or panic. Part of Cora knew that wasn’t right, knew what she’d seen was real. But another part of her doubted. Doubted enough that when he called her over to help the queen, she obeyed. She gathered Linette’s cold hand in hers, uncaring that the woman’s blood was now smeared over her own palms.
The voice came next. One she expected but was startled by just the same.
