A tear rolls from my eye as Mannus and sweet Tuck are guided past us, and the women leading Hel bring her to stand at Vexx’s opposite side. The general turns to the red-haired giant holding Alexus’s arm.
“You can say goodbye to your little friend, Rhonin. She escaped you and nearly cost us everything. Surely you want to punish her.”
My heart pounds.Rhonin.
I lean forward, meeting Hel’s glassy stare. I pray she was right, that he let her go, and that he will refuse to do this. I pray that he is not as evil as his general or his prince.
Rhonin looks like he doesn’t know what to do or say, a moment of shock passing over his face like a cloud. Alexus peers over at him, but Rhonin keeps his eyes fixed on Vexx.
“We can let her go.” He glances at what looks to be an early afternoon sky. “We don’t have time for this. She’s nothing to us. Nothing to our prince or our mission.”
Vexx tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “Rhonin, sometimes I wonder if you have the mettle required to be in this army.” He shoves Hel toward the Eastlander. “Either you punish her, or someone else will.”
The muscle in Rhonin’s jaw feathers. With apparent reluctance, he lets go of Alexus. He has blue eyes, and that cerulean gaze finds Hel, though she’s staring at the ground, chest rising and falling fast.
“Fine,” Rhonin replies. “But her beating happens in private. I don’t like an audience.”
Vexx watches his warrior carefully, suspicion leaking from his every pore, but he nods his permission.
Rhonin snatches Hel’s wrist and drags her toward the caves, stalking up the snowy hillside where other warriors remove the bodies of the Eastlanders I killed. Hel fights, like I knew she would, but Rhonin throws her over his shoulder, and the pair vanish into a cave.
With my heart in my throat and rage boiling my blood, I stomp the foot of the man holding me and lunge toward my friend. It’s Vexx who claims me, latching onto my hair again, yanking me back so hard that a zing of pain rips through my neck.
He pushes me forward, driving me up the hill in Hel’s footsteps until we’re back where we started. “Just for that,” he says, “we’re going to stand right here and let you see her when she comes out. Even if it’s for her burial.”
If I could free my hands, I would do everything in my power to harness fire threads and send flames raging across this ravine to end this, but Vexx holds me so tightly, one hand in my hair, the other clenching my wrists, aiming me at the cliff.
Out of nowhere, Alexus roars as if in protest, but another sound leaves him, one of sheerest agony, and he suddenly goes silent.
The earth rumbles, boulders tremble, and I lose my footing.
Vexx steadies me. Steadies himself.
I can’t see Alexus, but I know he somehow did that.
“It’s nothing,” Vexx calls out to his men, laughing at their fear. “Happens in these mountains all the time.” He tries to sound sure, though I hear unsettled nervousness in him, the way his laughter fades and dies.
Vexx hands me off, like I’m too much to deal with, an interruption to the spectacle involving Hel. I try to see Alexus, but my line of sight is swiftly corrected with a jerk to my head by different hands.
Every Eastlander on the slope by the caves stands in waiting, like salivating monsters, especially Vexx. From the look on his face and the way he stares at the cave’s mouth, I can tell that this is a test for the Eastland warrior named Rhonin.
Something comes alive in the air, and there’s another moment of pause across the ravine. I don’t know what that something is, but it resonates in my marrow. I’ve never felt anything like it, a sweeping presence that smells like cold, if cold had a scent. It’s everywhere at once, stilling even the wind.
A white wolf howls loud and long in the distance. Then another joins in, and another, and another. The Eastlanders shift and cast wary glances between themselves.
After too many torturous, silent minutes, Hel’s scream rings through the ravine, echoing like a death knell. I want to drop to my knees, but I’m held fast, trying to breathe as she wails.
I will kill him and cut out his heart. I will hang his scalp and all its red braids from my belt. I will curse his name so wholly that his every waking moment will become a prayer that he is not found by the likes of me. The Prince of the East and his army will regret that the silent Witch Walker from Silver Hollow lived.
Vexx meets my gaze, a satisfied smile spreading over his face, and Hel’s cries fall quiet. After a time, Rhonin stalks out of the cave, dragging a stumbling, sobbing Hel behind him. He glances at the sky with unease, like he notices this new presence moving through the ravine.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise.
Rhonin stands before Vexx, still clinging to Hel who has yet to meet my eyes. Her square shoulders have fallen, and her hair hangs in a black curtain over her face.
“It’s over,” Rhonin says, his face red and blotchy. “We should go now.”
The Eastlander at my back slackens his hold, enough that the pain in my neck subsides. It seems he’s tired of this, too.
