They walked away from the moon’s reach and into the soundless cover of the trees, where shadows played tricks on Risa’s eyes and gnarled roots still tangled around her cold feet. Prince Javi, for his part, remained silent, exertion and pain lacing his brows together in a straight line.
His long fingers dug deeper into her skin as he used her like a human cane. With every step, he straightened a fraction of an inch, and she was glad for the unearthly silence that devoured their footsteps.
“Can your good fortune help locate streams or other bodies of water?” he eventually asked after he had straightened to her height.
“Am I a horse?”
“Can horses find water? Can you turn into one?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Being a witch?”
“Being a horse.”
He turned to look at her. Behind the obvious distress in his eyes, there was something else, the same calculating stare that had flashed briefly before the attack. He was studying her. Figuring her out. Trying to understand Brunhilda’s reasoning for offering her up instead of using magic.
She looked away, worried the truth might be spelled out in her face—the downturned edges of her mouth, the wrinkle of her nose.
“If you’re good luck, I’m sure you could point us in the right direction,” he prodded, no doubt eager to witness magic at work. That was probably only because he never had it used against him.
She pointed somewhere in the distance, eager to escape his scrutiny. “There.”
“Water?”
She had no idea. With the way things were working out, chances were that a goblin kingwaswaiting to marry them both, unhindered by societal expectations. Or maybe goblins enjoyed polygamy. It wasn’t like she’d ever met one. “Sure.”
He gave her a pointed look. “You don’t sound very confident.”
“That’s because I’m not a horse.”
“No,” he confirmed. He leaned his full weight against her, and she watched in fascinated horror as his throat bobbed. “I could ride a horse.” He paused. “Wait. Do you hear that?”
No. Risa did not. She opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed a finger to her lips.
“Listen.”
She had half a mind to bite the offending finger. But then she heard it. The faintest of sounds, like a trickle of—
Water.
Prince Javi steeled himself for the next part of their arduous journey by muffling a groan, rolling his shoulders back, and leaning farther into her. She nearly buckled, and for a moment, she considered dropping him. But one glimpse of his blank, stoic face made her swallow her bite and trudge on.
They broke through the line of trees and spilled out onto a riverbank swathed in silver. A stream drenched in moonlight revealed itself, the expanse of stars reflected upon its rippling surface. A gentle burble rose in the air, accompanied by a sound that had marked Risa’s whole life.
Rain.
Her heart lurched in her chest.
Across the stream and beyond the trees was a town shrouded by sleet. A storm raged over the collection of roofs, forming an impenetrable gray veil. Through the haze, she could see blips of gold lamplight flicker off as the town readied itself for sleep.
It was not Barrow. She could tell by the shape of the houses and buildings, could tell from the way the rain hit the roofs that they weren’t made of rusted metal. Besides, there still remained a few hours left of her birthday.
What lay on the other side of the stream was an ordinary town experiencing an ordinary rainstorm that somehow ceased its assault at the river line.
When she dragged her gaze back to the prince, she found he wasn’t staring at the town that loomed ahead like a mirage—he was staring ather.
“Brunie was right,” he said, relief coloring his voice. “Youaregood luck.”
