I’m probably going to die soon, because I will never tell them where Raina is, and if they find her on their own, I will end my life trying to save her.
Vexx turns to me, his movements slow and stiff, his eyes hard and cold as he shines his flaming torch in my direction. “Call to her.”
The other Eastlanders face me, too.
I glare at their leader and scoff. “You might as well end me, because I refuse.”
Vexx stares for a long moment before closing the distance between us in a few long strides, until he’s mere inches from my face. “Callto her. Or I will cut out your three-hundred-year-old tongue. And I’ll take my time, making you scream while you can. Until your woman comes running because she hears your mindless misery.”
“She can’t reply,” I tell him, my throat working against my binds. “She was born voiceless.”
He arches a brow. “I don’t need her to reply. I need her to show herself. I’ll take care of the rest.” He unsheathes the God Knife from his thigh and presses the flat of the bone blade to my cheek. “Now call her, or I’ll render you assilent as she.”
“Just kill me. It doesn’t matter how you threaten me. I will not be the reason you find her.”
Vexx snarls and presses the blade harder into my cheek.
“Leave him alone.” A feminine voice carries on the wind. “I’ll take you to her.”
Vexx whips his head around. The few torchbearers aim their lights at a figure standing in the middle of the ravine, shrouded in a red cloak. Snow swirls around the statuesque form, and the torches cast competing shadows across the white ground.
Swords unsheathe, hatchets raise, and Vexx lowers the God Knife from my face.
“Show yourself,” he commands, pointing his torch at the hooded figure.
The shadows move. A heartbeat passes.
“Come closer, and I will.”
I cock my ear at the sound of that familiar voice. It isn’t Raina.
Is it…No. It can’t be.
Vexx hesitates but walks forward, God Knife tightly fisted in his hand. He stops a few short strides from the cloaked woman. “Remove your hood, or every warrior here will send their blade sailing straight toward your heart. You have three seconds.”
One. Two.
She folds the hood back, and my heart lurches.
Helena.
Beside me, Rhonin tenses, and if I’m not mistaken, even gasps. If the wraith is still within Helena, I cannot tell. She looks much the same, though it’s difficult to see the truth with the snow, torchlight, and shadows. The wraith is devious, that much I know. I cannot trust the girl before my eyes.
“Well, well,” Vexx says. “The Knife Thief. We meet again.” He motions to two of his warriors. “Check her for weapons. Don’t forget how quick she is.”
Helena is so young. At nineteen, she’s barely marked as an adult in Northlander terms. And yet the way she stands there, arms lifted at her sides, chin high, spine strong and sure, she seems a thousand years old, confident as any goddess, any queen. There’s not a singleremnant of unnatural presence, nor any hint of the rattled girl from the lake, and I have to wonder if that was all the wraith’s doing, and if this is therealHelena.
The warriors strip away her cloak, revealing no weapons. She’s no longer dressed in gold, the vulnerable material of her silken gown. Instead, she’s clad in the bronze leathers of Vexx’s men.
The general clasps his hands behind his back, feet spread wide, studying her. “Did you kill my men and take their clothes?”
A wind catches her hair, blows her scent in my direction. She doesn’t smell like flowers, but she doesn’t smell like the pit of the world either.
“I did not,” she answers Vexx. “Your men were already dead, so I took what I needed.” She looks down at herself and meets his gaze again. “I look nice, no?”
As Vexx closes in, prowling toward her, his warriors step away, and Helena lowers her arms. She fixes her glittering eyes on Vexx as he approaches.
“Raina Bloodgood is dead,” she informs him. “That’s the only reason I’ll take you to her.”
