‘Alright, I have an hour – two at most. Let’s make it count.’ I nudged the horse to move faster, passing Irsha in no time. We set off at a relaxed canter, and I focused on breathing, my mind drifting to Reynard. The image of his wolfish grin and handsome, roguish face filled me with warmth, and gods knew I needed it. He must have read my letter by now. This thought instantly brought me face-to-face with an unpleasant reality.Gods, he must be furious.
Another hour passed. I cursed when the numbness and cold returned much earlier than I’d expected. Irsha rode past, getting several metres ahead before he reined in the horse and stared at something ahead.
‘We need to keep going, Blade. What’s wrong?’ I stopped beside him, looking in the same direction. There was nothing but trees and the muddy road ahead, but the longer I looked, the more the road ahead seemed to stretch into the sky. The clouds, already thinning, broke long enough for the moonlight to brighten our surroundings, highlighting two tall structures.
‘Fuck,’ I said, focusing on the pillars framing the road. A silver sheen reflected the moonlight, drawing my attention to the writing on the pillars’ surface and the strange swirling aether surrounding them. As soon as I adjusted my sight, it revealed a vortex of magic disappearing into the ground.
A shiver ran through my body when the rune pulsed, drawing away my stored aether.
‘What an interesting discovery,’ I said when I recognised what I confronted. So this was where the srebrec had gone. At least I knew why I was so weak. This perverse gateway had been draining my aether, and, like the last dimwit, I’d drunk a stimulant that sped up the process. ‘Irsha, please…’ I said, swaying towards my friend. ‘I need you to help me.’
‘What? Why?’ he asked, coming closer. His eyebrows rose so high they almost touched his hairline. ‘Morana’s tits, Sana, you’re as pale as a upior.’
My insides revolted. I hunched over the horse’s side, expelling the contents of my stomach into the snow. ‘If you don’t help, I really will be a ghost,’ I said, my voice hoarse, throat still sore from retching. ‘And if you don’t get me away from here, I’ll make sure you’re the first person I feed on.’
‘Are you serious? I’d never live it down if I let you die like that.’ His carefree tone made me smile despite the circumstances.
‘Not if we’re quick,’ I said, pushing my horse closer to his. ‘But the longer we wait, the bigger the chance.’
‘Come here,’ Irsha said, grabbing my arm and dragging me onto his horse. ‘How fast do we need to go past these gate posts?’
Gate posts… no, they’re a weapon. A passage no mage can cross, and it was supposed to be a safe route.Tymon’s map was detailed. We’d travelled along his secure route to avoid the patrols and garrisoned units. The trail was far from Tivalaran’s towns to prevent anyone from noticing a stranger’s presence. Only, Tymon wasn’t a mage, and I was paying the price for not verifying his knowledge.
Irsha set off at a canter, jolting me and forcing me to wrap my arms around his torso.
‘Gods, your fingers are freezing. I can feel them even through my clothes.’ He wrapped his cloak tighter around me. ‘I wonder if I’ll survive this?’
‘The srebrec won’t affect you unless you’re magical,’ I said, leaning heavily on his chest.
His humourless laughter sends vibrations through my body. ‘Plenty of women have told me I’m magical in the sack, but I wasn’t talking about the srebrec, Trouble. I’m holding the most poisonous woman in the kingdom to my chest, and if that wasn’t scary enough, she belongs to another man. A very possessive man,’ he said, resting his chin on my head while he guided the horses along the icy road. ‘If you die, my Poisonous Queen, I’m as good as dead too.’
‘Oh, stop it. Reynard isn’t some primitive brute who reacts badly regardless of circumstances,’ I muttered, feeling Irsha’s hand tightening on my waist.
‘You have a lot to learn about men, Sana. Everyone’s a primitive brute when it comes to the woman they love.’ He sighed before I heard him cursing. ‘We’re in trouble. There’s aguard post behind the pillars. Hide your face in my cloak and play my sickly little wife unless you want to fight those bastards.’
This didn’t bode well. My plans were already going wrong, but I had no problem playing the sickly wife. As soon as the guard stopped us right between two pillars, I couldn’t stop retching. My head was spinning so much that I grasped Irsha’s hand, moaning softly, while he held my hair back as I painted the snow with our last meal.
‘Who are you and what business do you have here?’ The guard’s voice broke through my haze.
‘My wife… I think it’s swamp fever. Will you… Will you take her to the healer? Please, sir,’ Irsha said, holding me tight with one hand while pretending to push me into the guard’s arms.
The man stepped away, face filled with disgust. ‘She’s got one leg in the grave. You’d better find yourself another one. Make sure you put a stake in her heart when you bury her, or she’ll rise again as a striga.’ The cruelty in the guard’s voice removed any shred of guilt when I bent over and vomited onto his boots – my last attempt at revenge, before consciousness slipped away.
‘Veles’ pit, take her away before she infects us,’ the angry voice said, but I was too far gone to care. My vision darkened just as Irsha straightened me up, pressing me hard to his chest, and the horse bolted, taking me away from the cursed ore.
By the time we reached town, I’d regained consciousness and could look around. I’d been to the South before. Tivalaran’s capital was a trading hub for almost the entire Tir ha Mor continent. I thoroughly enjoyed how the various cultures mingled through trade, creating a society where your chances in life were based solely on skill and intelligence.
The changes were jarring. With the winter solstice festivities finished, I expected a subdued atmosphere, but this bleakness was shocking. It wasn’t just the cold and rain; the dread in the hunched backs of passersby and the surprising number of empty buildings didn’t make sense. The people who hurried through icy streets didn’t even raise their heads to note our arrival.
‘Still with me, Nightshade?’ Irsha asked as we neared the inn, and I nodded weakly.
‘Yes, barely.’ I yawned, weary to the bone. ‘Don’t wake me up till the morning unless the world ends or Tangra knocks on our door.’
‘Why do you think you’ll be getting any rest? It was me doing all the work to get you here.’ I didn’t grace Irsha’s teasing with more than a raised eyebrow, allowing him to lead us to the tavern, still playing the doting husband.
A few coins tossed onto the counter got us a room pretty quickly. Unfortunately, to keep up the pretence, we had to accept one with a double bed. My protests evaporated when I saw how clean it was, the crisp white linen tempting me with the scent of laundry soap.
‘Gods, I need this,’ I said with a moan. With the last of my strength, I squirmed out of Irsha’s arms and kicked my shoes off while the assassin collected pillows and a throw, making a comfortable nest on the floor.
