“You can let go,” Halvor said. “We have emergency procedures in place for this situation. You can rest.”
Farrin still stood next to her, his expression guarded as he watched the conversation play out.
Her eyes flickered from Farrin to Halvor as she wondered what would happen after she fell unconscious. “Are you sure?”
Halvor caught her unease and offered her a nod. “Yes.”
“He’s right, Little Wolf,” Phile said.
“The sooner you begin resting, the better,” Liv piped in. She was still mounted behind Phile and yipped in surprise when the Robber Maiden abruptly swung her horse around.
“I have you, Princess,” Oskar assured her.
Rakel’s eyes slid towards Farrin, and she wordlessly asked,Will you guard them?
Farrin smiled and raised her hand to his lips. The warmth of his lips and his breath was a tender caress on her skin. “Sleep well, Princess.”
Rakel narrowed her eyes and wanted to lecture him—his reaction was something she didnotwant toencourage—but fighting Tenebris made her feel like she had been chewed up by a snow bear and spat back out, so she let go of her magic.
When she did, she felt a sharp, suffocating magic whisper on the winds.
You are just like Tenebris.
Shocked, but lacking control of her body and mouth, Rakel sagged against Oskar, aghast. Her thoughts slipped through her fingers, and with mounting horror and fright, Rakel plunged into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 10
NEW BEGINNINGS
Her bodyached. Not the ache of strain, but the pain of having been dragged across a bumpy road for miles. She couldn’t help the groan that escaped her mouth as she blinked in the bright light, trying to make sense of the bleary world.
“Phile?” she murmured.
Phile wasalwaysthere when she woke. Why wasn’t she saying anything?
Rakel raised her hand and pinched her eyes, clearing her vision. It took her several tries to find the strength to sit up in bed.
She was splayed out in the only bed of the tiny cottage she shared with Phile and Liv in Tana. Two cots were folded and stacked against a barren wall, but there were blankets, cushions, and a few straw dolls scattered around the room. One particularly well-made doll was tucked in Rakel’s right hand.
She smiled. “Gerta.” She rolled her shoulders, wincing as her bones cracked and resettled. Her mouth felt as dry as fall leaves, and her stomach rumbled in a most unseemly fashion.
The cottage was lit with golden sunlight that splashed in through the windows. Rakel turned, bathing her face in the light like a cat, and was surprised to see a familiar back.
Farrin stood outside one of the two windows in a defensive stance. A breeze stirred his hair—which revealed more of its rich brown undertones in the late afternoon sunlight—and his head tilted as he scrutinized the street.
Judging by the way he’s standing, he has his sword unsheathed and positioned in front of him.
“He’s been there every day ever since General Halvor deposited you here,” Phile said. Her silent entrance startled Rakel.
“I think he would have stood there all night, too, if Oskar didn’t brow beat him into sleeping. He takes his oaths very seriously, that one does. Here.” Phile offered her a glass of water. “You always sound like a sick camel when you first wake up.”
“Excuse me?” Rakel asked after she took a few sips. She grimaced—her voice was dry and scratchy.
“You see? Just let your teeth go, wander around dressed in sand-colored furs, and you’ve got the perfect disguise.” Phile laughed.
Rakel scowled at her friend and drank more water.
“How do you feel?”
