Malak is behaving as if he knows for certain that Asha is inside the cabin. Maybe he does. After he knocked Thoren andme to the ground and while our father was fighting Kalith, he could have gone to the door of the cabin or even stepped inside and I wouldn’t have been able to see him do it.
All I know is that he’s as quiet as the breeze, his footsteps barely making an impact on the ground.
He walks straight past the fallen Blacksmith Abdiel, whose body remains riddled with arrows. I wonder if Malak will be as dismissive of Deron once he sees the dead Blacksmith lying on the loft.
But the fallen Blacksmiths are not my concern now.
Skirra is visible to me across the way, his head hung low, his soft whines floating across the air. Kori, too, has sunk to his belly, his teeth still gnawing uselessly at the bars that cage him. The other three wolves have remained chained to separate trees. Their affinity with my family was less, but still strong. They have all fallen silent, seeming to understand that my father is gone.
I try to see my brother, but as much as I try to twist, I can’t lay eyes on his face.
I need to know that he’s okay.
He’s my responsibility now. No matter what happens to me, I have to protect him.
“Thoren.” My voice sounds far away to my ears. “Tell me you’re okay.”
His only answer is his now-stifled crying.
“Thoren. Brother.” My tone is more urgent. I need him to respond. “Are you hurt?”
His voice is tight. “No.”
I close my eyes with relief but open them quickly.
Kalith seems to have waited until Malak turned the cabin’s corner and is now crossing the distance to me.
He drops into a crouch beside me, and his right hand darts out to grab the back of my head. “If she’s here, it means someonepulled her out of the pit,” he says, a low, angry snarl. “Was it you?”
His question confirms that he saw her there but must have pretended he didn’t. He may have led the other Blacksmiths, including Malak, away, believing that they wouldn’t find a thing except monsters in this forest and in the meantime, the snow and ice would mostly cover her up. Maybe he thought he would go back later and bury her to be sure.
I have only theories, and no concrete facts, but his contempt for her is clear. The fact that he saw her in the pit and didn’t tell his leader is also clear.
I can’t believe she’s evil or deserves to die. Not when my light is drawn to her the way it is.
My voice is raw as I fight the resurgence of pain in my chest and the anguish I feel for my father, both pushing at the edges of my numbness. “Are you the one who beats her? Or do you stand by while someone else does it?”
Kalith draws back with a sharp inhale, but his fingers remain wrapped around my head and his movement pulls painfully at my scalp.
He darts back toward me, his whisper vicious. “What did she tell you?”
I fight the widening of my eyes.
He thinks she’s conscious?
But if he believes she’s conscious, he also hasn’t said anything about the fact that she hasn’t come out of the cabin of her own free will.
Does he think she’s hiding in there?
As I consider my reply, I’m aware that his copper metal extends across his right palm and all he has to do is form a sharp blade with it to kill me.
“You’ll never know what she told me,” I whisper, a veiled lie, although the marks on her body spoke volumes.
Kalith snarls, his grip tightens, but that’s when a soft dragging sound reaches us and Malak appears at the cabin’s corner, pulling the sled on which Asha rests.
She appears to have remained unconscious, but the rise and fall of her chest is deeper now. Stronger. I’m more certain than I was before that she will wake up. The only question is when.
At her appearance, Skirra raises himself back to his feet, growling softly.
