Regardless, I burrowed into the cloak.
We passed expansive forests, filled with trees I’d never seen in Ashorah. There was something strange about them. Not just the way they curled in on themselves instead of standing tall, or the leaves that hung limply from their branches. Despite the bright clouds in the overcast sky, darkness seemed to writhe in the forests’ depths. Hypnotic. Beckoning. I felt myself beginning to lean out of the saddle. Horrified, I jerked myself upright again. No one else seemed fazed or even bothered to mention it, which only intensified my disturbed shudder.
Eventually, real towns began to trickle into view. They grew more congested the longer we traveled. We rode past villages full of Kaldfolk. Wooden cabins and fenced farms. People stared at us, eyes wide. I thanked the gods there wasn’t any of the depravity and violence from Nadia’s story. At least none that I could see.
It was dark by the time our horses finally slowed in front of alarge house made of cedarwood. Its rounded roof towered over us, and its walls extended all the way into the mountain behind it, wood melding with stone. Immense carved double doors gaped open in front of us, bordered by two tall flags of white and brown, each with a ferocious bear at its center.
“Cano,” Keir barked.
The young Kald halted his horse beside us.
“Cabin.”
“On it.” Cano dismounted and jogged off.
Before I could see where he was going, Keir slid gracefully off our horse, then turned to me. He yanked me unceremoniously from the saddle and plunked me at his side. My bottom had gone mostly numb from the long ride, and the muscles in my back had cramped from the awkward position I’d taken to lean away from him. He gave me an experimental sniff and shrugged. “Only residual fear. Good enough.” Then he shoved me through the doors.
ELEVENSAMIRA
Kaldfolk filled the space. Laughing, chattering, swigging from tankards in their seats around two long wooden tables. Above them hung iron chandeliers, dozens of candles bathing the place in a warm glow. The tables were painted blue, now peeling, and riddled with suspicious stains that looked an awful lot like blood. Braziers and a firepit at the center of the room wafted heat toward me.
At the opposite end of the hall sat a massive throne fashioned out of antlers. A man perched there, observing our arrival.
Keir held on to my chain and strode down the aisle between the tables, dragging me along on weak knees. The rest of my captors filed in behind us. Talk melted away and all gazes swung to me. Latching on with predatory eyes.
I’d spent sixteen of my twenty-two years on this earth training myself to be unseen. The scars on my back pulsed with the reminder of what happened when that training lapsed. But now every single person in the room was staring at me, watching my every step. My shoulders hitched up toward my ears, a useless shield.
Keir halted in front of that antler throne and dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “My king,” he greeted the man.
Though the man on the throne wore no crown, I recognized the posture of a royal. A confidence in his broad shoulders, intelligencein his face. Though his brown eyes were less predatory than the others’. Almost soft.
He held his hand out to Keir, who rose and clasped the king by the forearm. The king said, “I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely.”
“I wish I could say the same for all of us.”
The king’s eyes saddened, and he rubbed a hand to his sternum, wincing as if the skin was tender. “Alarik,” he whispered. Unlike Keir—and most of the Kaldfolk, it would seem—the king wore a short beard and left his hair unbraided. His black locks hung freely to his waist, combed to the side to show off the red tattoos curving around his right ear. Until now, I had only seen Kaldfolk with black or blue tattoos. I wondered if red symbolized his position as king.
Keir gave a somber nod. “Plus about a dozen black-marked. Zaid was not as welcoming as we’d hoped. I hardly got a word out.”
The king’s shoulders lowered as the deaths settled on him. His grip on Keir’s forearm tightened while his other hand lifted to clap him on the shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but Keir nodded as if he had.
Then the king’s eyes flicked to me, and he frowned. “What is this?”
“This was the best we could do.” Keir looked to me. “Meet the Gods-Chosen.”
The temperature seemed to plummet by several degrees. The king stared at me, jaw tight, before his dark gaze returned to Keir. Their silence was loaded with tense displeasure.
My eyes darted between them as shock settled over me. This had not been the king’s plan. Keir and the others had brought me here of their own volition. My mind fumbled over the realization as I rapidly reevaluated. Kidnapping a queen risked the might of the Khada Guard, but when that queen was also the Gods-Chosen? Keir was taunting the gods themselves. For what? Why would he do such a thing without his king’s knowledge or support? And if theking did not want me here, would he dispose of me? Or send me back to Ashorah?
In a voice so quiet, I doubted anyone beyond our huddle could hear, the king ordered, “Release her immediately.”
Keir slipped a key out of his pocket. My shackles clanked loudly as they hit the ground.
Relief spread through me as my raw skin felt the cool kiss of the air.
“The east cabin is prepared,” Keir said.
“How convenient.”
