When she was far enough from the dakii that had been chasing her, Iryana rolled onto her back, floating instead. Stared at the bloated moon hanging above. She was battered and bleeding, barely clinging to consciousness.
She wasn’t sure how much of the numbness in her body was due to the cold water and how much was caused by her injuries; didn’t have the energy to care.
She just floated.
When she eventually hauled herself onto the muddy bank downstream, the forest was quiet.
Panting, Iryana took stock of herself. The blood had been washed off, and she’d smell of the river instead. Her white dress was far better disguised now, stained brown, black, and red. She couldn’t fight anymore, not with her arm, so she’d have to stay quiet. Move carefully.
Iryana ripped off a bit of cloth from a cleaner section of her skirt and tied it around her arm to slow the bleeding. There wasn’t much she could do about her side but press her hand to the wound and hope for the best.
But she’d done it. Her family was safe. And she still drew breath.
The moon was sinking toward the horizon when Iryana slowly inched back across the rope crossing.
Her legs shook, and her one good arm struggled to hold on to the top rope. She wasn’t in good enough shape to tie herself to the safety rope, so she’d gone without. Her spear was gone, and her quiver left behind with her cousins. She still had her bow, but did not know what shape it was in.
She couldn’t feel much of anything anymore, other than the cold that had seeped all the way into her bones. Everything was just a dull ache that permeated through her shaking muscles. Her hand struggled to grasp the rope, every joint far too stiff.
The soft groan of the river below hid the sound of blood and water dripping off of her. It would hide the sound of her falling in, too.
Iryana was amazed she had made it out of the forest, surprised her muscles had pulled her up the tree to the rope crossing no matter how agonizingly slow it had been.
As she hung high in the air, she wondered if she had made it all that way just to slip and crash into the river, to slip into a peaceful death as she knew she lacked the strength to fight above the surface twice in one night.
But then her feet hit the edge of the tower and she tumbled inside, groaning as her good arm fell back down to her side. It felt like her shoulder ripped a little, hot pain stabbing into the joint.
As Iryana gasped, trying to catch her breath, she watched as a puddle slowly gathered beneath her. She could only hope the mix of black and red, watered down into a thin stream that trickled off of her, would just look like dirt when it dried.
When her breathing slowed enough to slow the spasms in her chest, she looked away from the puddle.
The door to the lookout at the top of the tower was open, a beam of moonlight cast across the wooden floor, leaving the rest of the tower in a light glow.
She was not alone.
Leaning against the far wall, with one crossed arm catching the light, was Pyetar.
She froze, her muscles clenching. He was looking right at her, and she at him.
His eyes were heavy-lidded, as if he had been asleep, but the longer they stared at each other, the more that sleepiness vanished and raw intensity replaced it. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark in the dimly lit room.
In the rush of trying to find and then protect her family, she had forgotten he’d tried to stop her from leaving altogether.
Pyetar pushed off the wall and stalked toward her, each move sharp and tense. Iryana squared her shoulders, temper rising in anticipation.
His voice was a low growl. “What were you doing outside the wall?”
Had he been waiting there for her to come back? For the entire night? She could only imagine how many theories he could have come up with in so much time.
“I had a mission, one I can’t tell you about,” she snapped, raising her chin. Let him think that’s what the letter he’d seen her reading was about. It wasn’t technically a lie. “So step aside and forget you saw me tonight.”
It was shadowed in the tower, impossible to see clearly. As long as she didn’t draw attention to the state she was in, Pyetar wouldn’t know. Iryana desperately hoped he wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t see how vulnerable she was.
Instead of stepping aside, he stepped even closer. “Did Karvek send you out there?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I think I need to have a talk with my brother,” he snapped. “He can’t send initiates out there like that, and certainly not mine. He’s going to get you killed.”
