Osana was quiet for a moment. “If I help you find him, may I earn a place at your home?”
Amarande looked at the girl then, covered in the giant man’s blood, hand still gripping the sword.Egia—truth.“Osana, you have earned that sword, and you most certainly have earned a place. But this journey is my own, and dangerous enough. You’ve been good company, but I won’t have you risk yourself for me without training. You’ve done enough already.”
“But I want to come with you.”
“And I want you to find a place at the Itspi, and the truth is… I’m unsure what will happen when I find these men and my love.”
The girl’s lips parted, but she stopped, giving Amarande space to continue.
The princess appreciated all the girl had done, but something in her gut told her that she must be alone to get Luca. She might die at the hands of the kidnappers, but she couldn’t see this girl do the same. Not for her and her quest. Not untrained and exhausted.
“You say you can track? Head east to Ardenia, and to the Itspi. Ask for a man there called Serville. He is the head of my castle guard. Tell him what you know about me, show him the sword, and tell him this is Egia, and that I have Maite. He knows where to find the inscription that proves it. I wish I could send you with more proof than that, but hopefully all those things will combine to him believing you—he’s a smart man and he will see you for a clever and loyal girl.”
“Please let me come with you.” Her voice was small, eyes downcast, as she made her plea yet again. So young yet so very weary. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”
Amarande placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “On my honor, you have a place in my home, and after you make it there, you won’t be alone again. Now, go.”
Osana nodded, accepting her first order. “Until I see you again, Princess.”
THEprincess was closing in. She couldn’t see them, not yet, but the hoofprints in the russet earth grew deeper with each passing minute, the wind receiving less time to wipe the earth clean of the riders’ path. A loping angle toward the only functional port in the Torrent.
At least that’s where she thought they were going.
It made no sense, but she followed. It didn’t matter the kidnappers’ destination—they wouldn’t get there with Luca.
The sun was barreling toward the horizon now. Sunset was still hours away, but with each passing moment the lack of sleep pressed deeply into Amarande’s eyelids. Her father had trained her to track prey like her life depended on it, yes, but he hadn’t simulated the other parts of a journey like this—she’d always gotten as much sleep as she needed.
In the new light, the sands changed, too, the flowing seas of dust and earth becoming more irregular. Shrubbery brave enough to survive here poked up toward the coming night. She’d been told the Torrent was nothing but sand and sky and plateaus for miles on end, but this vegetation multiplied with each horse length. Amarande squinted ahead and saw the cut of a clear path through the scrub as it grew thicker, and the smudge of trees on the horizon.
The watering hole, the innkeeper, and now a change from the endless red dirt. What else would she find?
The wind kicked up and brushed a fine spray of sand into her eyes. Mira halted, her nose peeled back against the gust, her own eyes tightly closed. Amarande pulled her cowl up tighter and waited for it to pass, tears sticking in her eyes as her body sagged with exhaustion. Her stomach rumbled once again—if her adrenaline failed, at least her hunger would keep her awake. Like sleep, food was something of which she’d never been deprived, even in her training.
A weakness among many. She’d been highly trained, yes, but she was still completely unprepared.
When the air quieted down and it was safe to open her eyes, the princess did so, blinking to reorient herself before moving on. Mira waited patiently for her nudge.
Home, in the gray shadows of mountains to her right.
The Port of Torrent, somewhere up and to the left.
And there, angling toward the thick stain of trees on the horizon, were three little specks.
CHAPTER
23
BYthe time the sun was beginning to set on another day and twilight fell in a silver cloud over the rushing red dust, the first thread of doubt looped its way around Luca’s heart.
Amarande still hadn’t come.
A second full day had passed now—Luca could no longer be ignorant to the length of time that had expired between his kidnapping and the present.
He pictured the princess as he last saw her, in the arena, jaw set, appeal unwavering as it lifted above the crowd. That girl wouldn’t give in to bribery. She wouldn’t trust the words of some unnamed letter writer to ensure the safety of her best friend. Deep down, that thread plucked itself into something resembling a sound, a fiddle string loose and thumping.
Luca glanced over his shoulder. Ula was riding beside him—he’d been pawned off on Urtzi in the late afternoon. Beyond her, the world was growing dark. The distant mountains to the east—Ardenia—had swallowed the last vestiges of the sun there, darkness consuming them. To the west, the last hour of light. Behind them, the wind shifted the dust in swirling clouds that gave the appearance of travelers on the horizon where there were none. Before them, their path was opening toward a thin ribbon of trees, jutting up from the earth like fingers pointed crooked toward thedarkening sky. In this landscape, it almost appeared to be a forest, though nothing so robust was supposed to exist in the Torrent.
“She’s not there, Luca.” This came from Ula, who didn’t glance his way, nor did she bother to look behind her to confirm what he wasn’t seeing.
