A Storm of Shadows (Fates and Fables #3)

14. Onora

Chapter 14

Onora

T he raider berries hadn’t set in yet. She wiped the blood off her mouth from their tussle and led the way. The attack from behind hadn’t done her any good. Her body ached with every movement now—her fatigue and her bruises combining in a horrible cocktail of pain.

The attack wasn’t her most strategic decision, but she’d been desperate. He’d been eating raider berries all day. Normally, demons and many other magical sources didn’t have any issues with them. Because their magic healed them so fast. With velin in the system, it should have slowed him down, making him tired and eventually putting him to sleep.

He had used his magic before, though. Something was amiss—she just needed to keep feeding them to him. She had to be a lot smarter. He could kill her so easily, even without his magic. She couldn’t risk pissing him off.

Why he was keeping her alive, she wasn’t sure. Maybe as a bargaining chip in case the Hunters caught up? A hostage to hold against his body and take the arrows for him?

She had to be nice, compliant. Gain his trust and then use it against him.

And she needed to find the key to the shackles. She’d been looking him over, trying to find where he kept it. She came up with only a few spots it could be, and all would be incredibly hard to pickpocket.

She stepped on a fallen branch as she led the way, cracking it as she’d been doing periodically, stealthily enough that she hoped he didn’t notice. If any Hunters were on their trail, then they would see it and know she was leaving the tracks. Any mark she could make would only help her in the long run.

It had been too long since she’d been in this forest, and she hadn’t spent too much time here. Still, she had a decent idea of where they were based on old maps. She’d heard the ocean waves of the southern coast and seen the water when they were flying. She’d been so dizzy and focusing on the tilting of her stomach in flight that she’d unfortunately not gotten as much information as she wanted about where they landed, but she knew they were closer to the shore than not.

If Hunters were looking for them, and didn’t know where they had dropped down, then it would be most likely that they would start on the northern side of the forest. She needed to lead him that way.

She suddenly was glad for all the time she’d spent in the wilderness. For all the things throwing her off right now, that wasn’t one of them. Her feet felt sure as she traversed the branches and brambles, having to slow her pace for Dryston, who was clearly not as accustomed to this way of life.

She wondered what he was accustomed to. She’d heard plenty enough stories of The Darkened City and their debauchery. The moon rites and orgies, the bloodlust and torture they loved.

Yet . . .

She tried to shove the thought away. The image of demons she’d had for so long had been effectively shattered from her time with Dryston, Enid, and Kaemon. They didn’t feel so different from her. They’d even been kind, if arrogant—Dryston—and she was having a hard time reconciling all her experiences, all the things she’d been taught, all the ideas she’d had, into one cohesive picture.

Dryston had done the attack on the farm. He’d decimated innocent people’s lives as an act of war. Like the Cruel Lord before him.

She could still picture her family home, the farm where she’d grown up. The chickens would run about the house all day, cozying up in their coop at night. Her mother had a garden she tended, always full of moonflowers that she said helped the veggies grow better. Onora would often take her little brother, strapping him in a carrier on her back and go for walks in the woods, showing him the plants. He couldn’t understand her, but his laughs and giggles and cooing babbles had made her keep talking, even if it meant nothing.

Jackson used to bring her family bread that his parents baked and traded for other goods. They’d take it to the beach and eat it on hot days, dipping their feet in the water, collecting shells and weaving bracelets for one another.

Her chest tightened, aching like a fresh wound. All of that had been robbed from her in one night. In one swift moment.

And Dryston had done the same to someone else. To that woman she’d found at the farm, crying over her loved one’s emaciated corpse. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She could try to kill him again, make it work this time.

She took in a steadying breath, focusing on the trail in front of her. She had to be compliant, gain his trust.

It was the only way she made it out of this alive.

And it was the only way she could ensure she would be able to kill him—giving him the justice he deserved.