“Were you born with it?”
“Risa,” Javi admonished.
The Wolf seemed to understand that she wasn’t talking about the scar. “No.”
“Who did it?”
The Wolf glared at the ground. “I don’tknow.”
Risa climbed onto her knees. “Do we turn to stone if we stare too long?”
“No.”
She didn’t know what was worse. To have an outlaw try to get in with them for the sole purpose of betraying Javi later on, or to have a cursed outlaw try to get in with them for a darker, more sinister purpose.
Frustrated, she struggled to her feet, ignoring Javi’s offer of help in the form of an outstretched hand. “Isthatwhy you’re so eager to go to—” She still she couldn’t say it, though the shape of the word was on her tongue.
The Wolf snatched her cape from the ground. “That isn’t any of your concern.” There was the edge of that lilting accent again, the vowels too long in the mouth. It was evident that the Wolf wasn’t from Kheadon; her voice was like a song when she spoke.
Risa was a hypocrite. Accusing the Wolf of keeping secrets when she was doing the same. Staying by the prince’s side though it risked his life, all because it keptherbreathing, the tiny hope of finding someone willing to break her curse a distant dream.
They were both running in their own way, though Risa couldn’t tell if the Wolf was running away from or toward something. She hated not knowing. If she didn’t know, she couldn’t predict how her curse might intervene and make thingsworse.
“Why?” Risa asked again. “Why do you want to come with us?”
At this, the Wolf stood and threw on her cape. With her hood pulled over her head, her face was once more cast in shadow. The half that Risa could see was as cold and smooth as ice.
“For revenge.”
CHAPTER FOURTEENIn Which the Trio Discovers a Secret Tunnel That Is Probably, Most Certainly a Death Trap
Risa stewed. Despite sitting on a literal horse, she couldn’t manage feeling quite so high and mighty when she and the Wolf were both accompanying the prince for selfish reasons. Revenge sounded a lot worse thantrying to break a seventeen-year-old curse of bad luck, but if both ended up hurting other people, what difference did the distinction make?
Besides, the Wolf had something to offer the prince. Protection. Actual skills in combat. The means to survive. Risa had only her bad attitude and an inability to shut up in high-stress situations.
The stars had long been banished by the arrival of dawn, pale brushstrokes painting the clouds pink and purple, a dark orange glow highlighting the horizon. It was as the sun crept over the edge that the Wolf stopped. The Grunion Mountains stretched left to right, peaks jagged little teeth in a great yawning mouth of sky. Theywere ugly things covered in more dirt than grass, but the air was crisp and fresh with the faint scent of evergreens, a pleasant change from the dust of Spearbelly’s surroundings.
The Wolf dismounted in silence and refused to cast them a single acknowledging glance. She marched up to a rocky crag, searching along the misshapen cracks of the cliff face. Pausing at a mangled-looking bit of stone with a series of scratches on its surface, she studied it before moving on. At a deep fissure, her fingers trailed over the jagged edge. She retraced her steps along the same few feet, back and forth, pause, back and forth, pause.
Javi slid from his mount and landed gracefully. He motioned for Risa, who had no choice but to slide down into his waiting arms. Her descent was a lot less elegant than his, particularly thanks to the cat hitching a ride on her good shoulder, but he made no mention of it as he set her on her feet. Once he was sure Risa was upright with little chance of falling over, Javi went to hover by the Wolf, hands clasped behind his back.
He asked, “How is this going to get us to San Cirilo?”
The Wolf paused her investigation to throw him a pointed look. “Do you… not know the geography of your own kingdom?”
“How many times do I have to tell everyone: I’m theseventhson. I’m better off being handsome and alluring. Don’t need to know geography for that.”
The Wolf glanced at Risa.
Risa held up her hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t care for geography, either.”
“The education system here is abysmal,” the Wolf muttered with evident disdain. She cleared her throat to begin the lesson. “There is only one way through the Grunion Mountains: Spearbelly.”
“That’s why you told us to ride toward the far end,” Javi noted, pleased with himself, as if he’d discovered a brand-new element or how to make airships fly without magic.
“But you cannot cross the sheriff and his post if you have committed a violent act,” the Wolf continued. Her voice had lost its lilting quality, her accent mostly smoothed over. She pulled at a scraggly branch. When nothing happened, she continued, “Only Risa would have been able to make it through if we had attempted to reach the other side.”
Risa didn’t want to know what happened if someone tried to cross the sheriff’s post after engaging in violence.
