Page 110 of The Fox Heir

I catch sight of Tabitha, her aged back bent over a sack filled with herbs. She tosses a few into a large mortar, then nods to Jona. He lifts the heavy pestle into the bowl and begins to crush the leaves. At their feet are small jars filled with oils and tinctures. No doubt they’re preparing medicines for the wounds that we’re bound to face. This isn’t Llwyn. There are no healers with power here, except me. But I can’t spend my time and energy healing the wounded when I need to fight. I am, after all, the Dead Queen’s weapon.

My heart aches at the sight. People will die. There’s no question about that.

Beyond Tabitha and Jona, a line of villagers hand stones, buckets, broken pottery, and any heavy scrap up to the battlements, to be thrown down when the soldiers arrive. My eyes drift to the distant Spires, where smoke from the Fox Army still drifts above the trees.

Someone places a gentle hand on my elbow. I turn to find Elisandra studying me.

“Here,” she says, handing me a cup of water. “You look like you need it.”

I take the dented tin cup in my shaking hands. “Thank you.”

Elisandra surveys the scene while I drink the cool water. It tastes like the well, but Elisandra was right; I needed to drink. I feel my head grow clearer with each sip.

“We’re a sorry sight, aren’t we?” Elisandra says with a sigh.

“No,” I say as I wipe my mouth with the back of my wrist. “The opposite, actually.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “You’ve seen the Fox Army, so you must know we’re a pitiful sight compared to them. We’ve grown up with tales of their skill and strength. Their copper-plated armor and their training.” She waves a hand out over the courtyard filled with villagers. “What would you call this?”

I study her for a moment, considering what to say. I settle on the truth.

“You’re right that the Fox Army has greater numbers, better weapons, and years of training. But—” I hand her the cup with a meaning-filled look. “We have the conviction of knowing that we’re right. Every person here is willing to sacrifice everything in order to protect their home.” I huff. “Sure, Fox Soldiers can follow orders. But they don’t think for themselves. They don’t have something to fight for beyond the will of the Fox King.” At the mention of my father, my stomach wrenches with anger. So many people will die. All because of him.

Elisandra sniffs, and I realize her eyes are wet. She throws her arms around my shoulders and squeezes. I’m so shocked, it takes me several breaths to remember to wrap my arms around her too. We stay there, embracing, for a long time.

“Thank you, Sienna. For everything.”

I squeeze her tighter. “I wish there was more I could do.”

Slowly, Elisandra lets me go. “I know.” She takes a deep breath and wipes the hair out of her face. Her cheeks are wet.

“What will you do when they arrive?”

“I wish I could fight those bastards.” She points to her clouded eye. “But I’m a liability out there. I can’t aim straight to save my life. So, I’ll be in here.” She points toward the castle. “Tending to the children. At least until the wounded arrive. Then I’ll help Tabitha mend whomever we can.”

“It’s as noble a job as any.”

She nods. “I know. I just wish I didn’t feel like such a coward, staying back.”

“Bravery takes many forms, Elisandra.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “And you are one of the bravest people I know.”

She gives me a weak smile before hugging me again. “I hope this isn’t goodbye, Fox Heir. But if it is, it was an honor being your friend.”

“I feel the same about you.”

Elisandra straightens and tightens the apron tied behind her back. “Well, duty calls.” She gives me a weak smile before she walks back toward the well, to bring water to the next weary soul.

Tristan’s voice cuts through the noise. “Red, over here.” It’s not a request. It’s barely even polite.

I hesitate, just long enough for it to show.

He hoists a splintered beam across a gap in the battlement wall. He’s reinforcing it, though we both know it’s a fool’s hope. Still, I cross the yard toward him, heart hammering unevenly against my ribs.

Hunter is already there, driving iron spikes through the wood and into the wall’s remaining mortar with quick strikes. He doesn’t glance up as I approach, though I feel the tension in the air. It’s thick enough to drown in.

Just look at us now, a Fox, a Wolf, and a knight. All barely on speaking terms. We’ve fallen a long way since our travels through Llwyn last autumn. I never thought I’d long for the days when we were running for our lives. At least as fugitives, we were a united front.

“We need more beams to brace the west wall,” Tristan says, his back to me. “Someone needs to fetch more from the old stable.” His words are clipped.