Chapter 21
Baron kicked up the tent stakes and began pulling the canvas down around me. “Get up,” he grunted. “Sheriff wants us moving before sunrise.”
I shoved my bedroll into the pack the old woman had given me during my last escape. My tunic and leggings were nowhere to be seen and I assumed Baron had already grabbed them. “Where now?”
“The Crags.” Baron tied off the canvas and tossed it to me to fold. “Cresswell Crags; have you ever been?”
I blinked at him. “That mountain gorge? With all the caves? I’ve heard of them but I’ve never been.”
He nodded. “Nomads used to live out entire winters there. The stone isn’t comfortable, but at least it provides more protection than here.
” After taking the folded canvas from me, he rolled everything into a tight bundle and cinched it.
“Besides, the sheriff wants a little more distance from Richard’s patrols.
” He motioned to a pile of supplies and to the nearly empty pack next to me.
“Of course he does,” I muttered, stuffing the supplies in and then tugging the strap of the pack to tighten it. “Farther away from my father, too.”
Baron paused and shot me a sideways look before continuing. “The sheriff won’t risk riding near Nottingham now,” he said. “Not with Richard’s men combing through the forests.”
“So he’ll drag us to a rock maze instead.” I slung the pack over my shoulder. “Perfect.”
We joined the shuffling line of men. Dried and crumbling leaves crunched beneath my boots and the pale hills stretched ahead of us, quiet and glittering under a new layer of snow.
The beauty of it made my chest ache as we moved through the land.
If only I were here on my own terms—free instead of tethered.
The snow would be melted by midday, but the swirling clouds threatened more snowfall tonight.
Baron walked beside me, adjusting the strap on the supplies he carried. “The Crags will shield us from the wind,” he said, more conversational now. “It’s an easy place to defend. Better than this.” He gestured toward the skeletal forest around us, its branches rattling with every icy gust.
Ahead, the sheriff’s men veered off the road toward a cluster of small farm cottages. I slowed. “No,” I whispered.
The men were pounding on doors, shoving inside, carrying out sacks—grain, potatoes, whatever the farmers had put aside to last them through the winter. A woman’s raised voice cracked through the morning air before being abruptly cut off.
My stomach twisted. “They won’t survive that,” I said under my breath. “Stripping their larders at this time of year? They’ll freeze or starve.”
Baron’s jaw tightened. “Don’t look,” he murmured. “It won’t help.”
“I can’t not look.” My hands balled into fists inside my sleeves.
Baron walked a step closer. “Just keep moving.”
Each step was brutal. I wished I could help them, but I couldn’t even help myself.
The woods had fallen away behind us hours before, replaced by the Crags’s unforgiving cliffs casting long shadows over a deep, dark lake. Baron claimed few knew about this route, and the way the path crumbled under our feet made me wish we weren’t among the few.
Wind funneled between the cliffs and pierced straight through my dress, even with the cloak on my back.
I hugged my arms to myself, wishing for my leggings—not because they were any warmer, but because I could see my steps better with them on.
Now the hem of the dress fluttered dangerously near the trail’s edge, threatening to tangle.
Baron moved ahead of me, one hand locked white-knuckled around any scrub bush sturdy enough to hold his weight. The heavy pack on his back threw off his balance, and every time he swayed, the chain between us jerked my neck. I could hear his breath, harsh and deliberate.
The lake churned below us, cold and waiting, like some monster ready to devour anyone who stepped wrong.
I kept my eyes glued to the trail. I had always trusted the forest floor beneath my feet, but this thin strip of stone above open water made my stomach twist. When my foot slipped on a patch of pebbles scattered over slick rock, my toes skidded toward empty air.
I slapped a hand against the cliff and pressed my cheek to the cold stone, willing the spinning in my head to stop.
“It’s a long way down,” a sneering voice said from behind me.
I looked over my shoulder. I’d been so focused on what was in front of me that I didn’t notice who had been sidling up behind me.
It was Dorian, the last in line. Hindered by the chain, Baron and I were moving slowly enough that everyone else had pulled ahead.
“Nervous?” Dorian said with a leer, then continued in a low hiss. “It would be a shame if someone fell.”
“Leave me alone, Dorian,” I said, loud enough that Baron could hear.
“Don’t touch her, Dorian,” Baron snarled. “If you do, you’ll be lashed within an inch of your life.”
“I won’t, I won’t,” Doian said immediately. “I’m just worried she would slip is all. A fall from this height wouldn’t kill her. Probably.”
I inched forward, focusing on Baron’s back. Whatever I did, I must not look down and I also didn’t want Dorian to press any closer. My palms sweated despite the cold air. Every time a rock skittered off the edge and splashed faintly into the water below, my knees nearly buckled.
“Move faster,” Dorian hissed behind me, too quiet for Baron to hear. His tone slithered with malice. “Or I’ll move you myself.”
I swallowed hard. Baron glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he noticed how close Dorian had drifted, but before he could say anything, we reached a jutting curve where the stone bulged outward and forced us to hug the cliff wall. The path narrowed to the smallest point I’d seen yet.
I slid my hand along the rock, fingers numb and heart pounding high in my throat. It was only a few more steps. Just a few—
A sudden force slammed into my back.
This was no accidental bump. It was a shove.
I let out a scream as my foot slipped off the edge and the world dropped out from under me. I desperately clawed at the air, at the rocks, at anything, but my hands found only emptiness.
I tipped forward, weightless.
Baron shouted my name—raw and panicked—but it was too late. He hadn’t reached me in time.
And then I was falling.
I expected to be jerked up short by the collar around my neck.
This was it. It was the end. I would die by hanging at the top of a mountain, tethered to a gargantuan man.
But I didn’t feel the sharp snap of my neck breaking.
I just kept falling. And falling. Down, down, down I went, the wind howling in my ears.
I screamed in terror as I continued to plummet to the ground for what felt like an eternity, but my breath was swept from me, my cries lost to the wind as I fell.
I couldn’t get my bearings as the world spun around me.
I covered my eyes with my hands and prepared to die.
The arms closing around me were surely Death’s.
Frigid water exploded around me as I struck the lake, the impact knocking every thought from my mind.
The coldness of the water made my limbs go immediately rigid.
I couldn’t kick or paddle. No matter what instructions I tried to give, my body refused to obey.
Panic screamed in my head. I’d never been a strong swimmer, and now even the instinct to survive was locked beneath the shock freezing me from the inside out.
The sudden thought of death at the hand of Dorian snapped my frozen limbs into motion and I clawed upward anyway, chest cinched tight and lungs aching for air.
I broke the surface with a choking gasp. The chain between Baron and me yanked downward, its weight a merciless hand at my neck. I wouldn’t be able to stay up long. I’d survived the fall only to drown.
My pack was pulling me under again and I shrugged it off, looking desperately for land. It looked close and yet forever far away. Would I be able to swim the distance?
There was a burst of water beside me and Baron’s head popped up too. He was gasping for breath just as I was, his eyes wide and panicked. We had to get to shore soon or this wretched chain would drown us both.
Baron spluttered, his lips shaping words I couldn’t process. The cold was thickening in my skull, dulling everything around me to a sluggish blur. I tried to inhale again—another frantic gulp of life—and my head slid beneath the water again.
I struggled up again and even though I still couldn’t understand what Baron was mouthing, I didn’t need words to take his meaning.
He struck out for the shore and I did my best to follow, but the closer we got, the more my limbs froze up. I couldn’t swim any longer.
“B-Baron,” I choked out as I sank beneath the surface.
Darkness swept in, and this time, I couldn’t fight it off.
I came back to consciousness very slowly, gradually gaining awareness of my surroundings bit by bit.
Was I dead? I must be—the last thing I remembered was slipping under that freezing water.
I couldn’t have survived. And yet…I was still breathing.
My lungs were still functioning—shallowly expanding and contracting, even though I still felt colder than I ever had before.
Did people breathe in the afterlife? I kept my eyes closed.
The effort to open my eyelids would require more energy than I had.
Every muscle in my body was useless, somehow knotted from the tension of the cold and simultaneously too limp to move.
Even if I’d had the energy to open my eyes, I wouldn’t have.
I had a pounding, throbbing headache that made my thoughts slow and painful.
But despite the cold that chilled me to the bone, I also felt warmth—soft and steady. I lay face-down at a slight incline, cheek pressed against the faint heat. Instinctively, I nuzzled closer to it, trying to burrow in as my frozen muscles twitched in protest.