Page 66 of The Dead Queen

Hunter’s exasperation is evident. “We can’t! We’ve already wasted too much time.”

Behind me, I feel the Wolf shake his head. He points toward the lumpy armor strapped to the back of Hunter’s mare. “You can’t bring that.”

Hunter’s eyes narrow. “I really don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what I can or can’t bring.”

The Wolf shakes his head again. “No. It’s too conspicuous.”

“This,” Hunter pats the bulk of copper and bronze behind him. “Might just save our lives someday.”

“Not if it gets us killed first.”

Hunter’s face is growing purple.

“Enough!” I yell. The two men look at me.

I shake my head at Hunter. “I’m sorry, but he’s right.”

Hunter’s jaw drops in indignation.

“It’s heavy. It’ll slow us down. And if people see it, they’ll talk. There aren’t any other King’s Guard on the road.”

Hunter gestures to the lumps of gleaming copper. “This armor could get us favors. We don’t have much to travel on.”

“Then we’ll have to ration our supplies. Spend as little as possible until we get to the border.”

Hunter shakes his head slowly. “I can’t just leave it here in the middle of a cemetery. You have no idea what it cost me to earn this copper.”

My heart aches for him, truly. He traded his freedom, his love of books, and his entire identity for swords, copper armor, and the begrudging respect of his father. That armor cost him everything. And we’re making him leave it behind.

I scan the crooked trees and pond reeds before I see our solution. “My mother will watch it for you. No one will find it. I’m the only one who ever visits her.”

Hunter’s face falls as he looks forlornly at the mausoleum. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” My stomach clenches at the lie, but there’s no better option.

With a dramatic sigh, Hunter jumps down from his mare and unties his armor. The clanking sets my teeth on edge. I get the sense that he’s biting his tongue to keep from wasting more time on bickering.

While Hunter heaves open the mausoleum door and places his pile of armor lovingly at the foot of my mother’s statue, my eyes scan the rest of the garden. Still no pursuers.

Hunter closes the heavy door and returns to his gray mare. He’s still wearing his gauntlets and has his sword strapped into an ornate copper scabbard. It’s not worth wasting more time to fight about.

I click at my horse to usher him forward. “Let’s go.”

We leave the cemetery and ride true north, toward the wretched borderlands. Toward the Kingdom of Corpses. Toward answers.

Secrets. Theft. Escapes. I’ve slipped through locked doors, assisted deadly criminals, and told so many lies I’ve lost count. Foxes are tricksters by nature—sly, silent, always one step ahead. For once, I almost live up to my family’s reputation.

Part Three

The Wolf

Chapter 21

Mist covers the ground, swirling around our horse’s hooves as we race past the tombstones and ancient trees. The night air has that crisp quality of impending dawn. The dark shadows are tinged with blue in anticipation of the rising sun. Somewhere, a morning bird begins to sing.

We’re barely out of the cemetery before I hear another sound that makes my blood curdle in my veins.

I glance back to where Hunter’s riding only a few feet behind me. His eyes are wide with fear. He’s heard them too.