42. Kira
Chapter 42
Kira
HOW HARD COULD IT BE?
T his was a terrible idea.
Even with Zayne’s pack, which holds a change of scruffy clothes, hard biscuits, a bedroll, and several daggers, I’m completely unprepared, totally alone, and possibly lost.
It was better with the smugglers of the Maiden’s Revenge . They treated me with a cool sort of professionalism, and the captain even pressed a few shills into my hands a week later, when their caravan stopped in the night on the road to Cairncliff.
“For helping us load the carts in Deep’s Crossing,” he said, with a little nod.
I was absolutely certain my help wasn’t worth that much coin, but I took it anyway. The mountains looming up on either side of the road seemed larger and steeper than before, and the wind blowing off them was so cold it cut through my cloak like a knife.
“Golden Peaks Lodge is that way,” the captain said, nodding at a smaller track branching off from the road we’d been following. “I’d travel at night, if I were you,” he continued, staring at the road in a way that made me think he was seeing something more than packed dirt and bedraggled grass. “Someone’s been through here. Earlier today, I’d guess. You’ll want to keep out of sight.”
“Thanks,” I said.
He nodded again. For a moment, I thought he was going to say something more, like trying to talk me out of doing something that was so clearly idiotic. But one of the horses stamped the ground behind him, another man said something low and thick that I couldn’t quite make out, and he turned away. I stepped into the shadow of the trees as their carts passed, nearly silent in the thin moonlight.
Then I took a deep breath and turned toward the road to the Golden Peaks Lodge. It took us two days to reach this road from the lodge, I think, when I was traveling with Matius. But that was on horseback. And I hadn’t exactly been paying attention.
Still, I reasoned, how hard could it be? It’s just walking, after all. I could walk through the nine hells if I had to.
And I’ve been cursing myself ever since. At least with the smugglers, I could pretend I wasn’t making a horrible decision. I could let myself slip into the fantasy that I’d decided to run away from the Towers, from my entire life in Silver City, and load mysterious crates from a barge into nondescript carts to travel dangerous mountain roads at night.
But now? Now I’m stumbling through the woods, at night, alone, with nothing but my bad choices to keep me company. Zayne’s heavy pack cuts into my shoulders, my feet squawk with protest after every step, and I’m only vaguely certain I’m still on the right road. I’m following some sort of cart tracks, at least. Every now and then I stumble across another pile of fresh horse manure, so I’m close to them, whoever they are. And they must be going somewhere. Hopefully to the Golden Peaks Lodge.
“Kira,” I huff to myself, “you’re an idiot.”
I stop and glare at the sky, as if it’s to blame for my stupid decisions. The stars are vanishing one by one. The sky is the faded gray of clothes that have been washed until they’re threadbare. The jagged black peaks of the Daggers look sharper in this light, but no closer. There’s no sign of the Golden Peaks Lodge, and no sign of the carriage I’m following.
I’m low on food, I have at least another night of walking ahead of me, if I’m not lost already, and my damn feet throb so badly I feel it in every other part of my body.
“Shit,” I say.
Things were bad in the Towers. So I went and made them all much, much worse.
Why? Because I fell for someone who told me at the start he was in love with another woman. And now, apparently, I’m going to wander around the Daggers until I either find him and apologize for being such an idiot or just keel over and die.
Reznyk was right about falling in love, damn it. There’s nothing at all that’s nice about this ache in my chest, nothing warm and syrupy like those stupid tavern songs.
I should have listened to him, I tell myself as I shove aside a thicket of scrubby bushes and collapse on the ground. I should have punched Zayne in the nose instead of letting him break my ankle. Hells, I should have broken Tholious’s ankle and left him to seduce Reznyk.
My eyes close. I’m still rattling through my regrets when sleep drags me to another world.