Chapter 2 Odessa
Two
Odessa
What if I ran away?
Sitting on the shore of a lake with no name, I stared across water as still and smooth as glass, willing myself not to break. Not to give in to the heartache and fear. Not to crumble into a thousand tiny pieces like the round pebbles beneath my seat.
The lake was a mirror of snowcapped mountains, lofty evergreens, and a pastel sky. A flawless reflection of a realm turned upside down.
This meadow was the picture of serenity. A haven for the weary soul. A cell without bars or locks.
What if I ran away?
I wouldn’t get far. We wouldn’t get far. Besides that, I was lost. Entirely lost.
Evie was curled in my lap, fast asleep. She’d finally stopped shivering from the bath I’d forced her to take in the frigid water. Her clothes were filthy and covered in dried blood, but at least it was out of her hair and off her skin.
Despite rinsing off in the lake, we still reeked of smoke, of death. It had been five days since Ellder, and I was beginning to fear the smell would haunt me forever.
I pressed a kiss to Evie’s wet hair as a hawk swooped overhead and loosed a sharp caw. My entire body flinched.
Evie whimpered, curling deeper into my arms.
I kissed her hair again, rocking her gently back and forth until she relaxed.
Faze purred as he nuzzled against my leg.
Water lapped at the shoreline.
My stomach growled.
Small noises to break the silence, but noises too quiet to chase away the screams. The beat of massive wings, the piercing screams of the crux, still rang in my ears.
I opened my hand and traced the pink scar on my palm with a fingertip. A scar with a mirror on Ransom’s palm. Twins cut into our flesh on the day we signed the Shield of Sparrows treaty in blood and vowed to be husband and wife.
Maybe if I touched my scar enough, he’d find his way to my side. Maybe I’d feel the echo of his pulse and know he was still alive.
“Praise Ama. Beloved Mother,” I whispered, “let him live. Let us find our way to each—” My prayer was cut short by the prickle of Voster magic at my nape.
Brother Dime walked through the grasses that surrounded this lake, his burgundy robes swishing against the golden green stalks. He reached for a yellow wildflower, skimming its blossom with a thick, grooved fingernail.
The early-morning sun cast the meadow in soft, creamy light. It was the only time of day that the priest’s pale skin seemed to hold a hint of peach color.
He came to a stop where the grass ended and the rocks along the shoreline began. Far enough from where I was sitting that the sting of his magic wasn’t unbearable, yet close enough to hear each other speak. With his hands clasped behind his back, he bowed. “Have you rested?”
“No.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It was too flat, too lifeless.
Too numb.
There were too many horrors to face at the moment. Learning of Jocelyn’s betrayal. Killing General Banner. Watching Brielle’s death. Hearing Evie scream as Zavier bled out on the street.
Later. Those nightmares weren’t going anywhere. I’d deal with them when I wasn’t traipsing through the wilderness with a Voster who may or may not be trying to save my life.
“We cannot linger,” he said.
We’d been riding for five days, stopping only long enough to keep from hobbling Freya. Evie and I were both on the verge of collapse, and these short reprieves were barely long enough for us to catch our breath, let alone rest.
I needed a lifetime to recover from that night at the fortress, not five days and a few stolen moments beside a godsdamn lake, even if it was breathtaking. “We cannot keep going at this pace.”
“You must, child.”
I ground my teeth together to keep quiet.
As hard as we’d pushed, he never seemed to tire or sleep.
Brother Dime had walked these past five days while Evie and I rode Freya. Not once had his energy waned as he led us farther away from Ellder. From Treow.
From Ransom.
“Where are you taking us?” I asked for the hundredth time, and for the hundredth time, he did not answer.
“I will fetch your horse.” He turned and retreated to the meadow where Freya was grazing.
When we stopped before sunrise today, I took off her saddle, using it to lean against, but I left her halter on so she’d be easier to catch. Not that Brother Dime ever had trouble catching my horse.
As he approached, she swished her black tail and walked to his outstretched hand, letting him stroke her gray cheek.
Maybe the reason I hadn’t fought harder to escape Dime was because I feared Freya wouldn’t leave his side. Or because I was scared to return to Ellder and witness the aftermath of what we’d left behind.
I was terrified I’d return and learn there was a reason for this aching hole in my heart.
He’s alive.
Ransom was alive. He wouldn’t die, not when we had so much left to experience together.
He was probably in Treow, furious I wasn’t. When he found us, I’d gladly suffer his best glower and an epic ass-chewing. As long as he was alive.
If going back to Ellder meant learning any other truth, meant losing him to the shades, then maybe I’d stay in the Turan wilds forever.
On a sigh, I stroked Evie’s cheek. “Time to wake up, little star.”
It took a moment for her gray eyes to flutter open. Her cerulean-blue starbursts flared bright, then faded with every blink until they were nearly engulfed by the gray.
I gave her a smile she didn’t return.
She simply stared up at me, hopeless, like she was waiting for me to rewind time. To take her back to a life where Zavier was alive. A life where her father’s blood wasn’t crusted on her shirt.
He’d given his life to save ours. Mine.
It wasn’t fair that she’d lost so much. A father. And her mother.
What would Luella say to Evie? How would she help her daughter move past this pain?
Help me. I sent the silent prayer to the shades, then swallowed the burn in my throat, refusing to give in to the tears. I couldn’t break, not yet. Not while she needed me to stay strong.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
Evie shook her head.
She wasn’t eating enough. Neither was I.
Not only had the long, endless days sapped my strength, but the constant bombardment from Brother Dime’s magic had dwindled my appetite.
He worked to keep a distance, always careful not to touch my skin with his. He held the long ends of Freya’s reins as he led us through the forest, but those reins were only so long. And he had yet to let us out of his sight.
What if I ran away? Would he stop us?
I feared his magic enough not to try.
He hadn’t treated us like captives, but I wasn’t fool enough to believe we were free.
The night we rode away from the dungeons in Ellder, I asked Dime to take us to Treow.
Ransom had told me to follow the moon, Aurinda, and it would lead me to the encampment. I’d been so relieved that we’d have an escort, even if it was magical. When we turned the wrong way, away from the twin moons, I told Dime we had to turn back.
He’d taken Freya’s reins from my grip and continued on into the dark.
I’d learned over the past five days that the Voster delivered most of his orders without a word.
“Up we go.” I brushed Evie’s hair away from her face, then helped her stand before getting to my feet.
Faze stretched out his front legs, his claws digging into the pebbles as he flicked his tail in the air. Then he pounced forward, jaw snapping at a bug. His ribs were more pronounced than they’d been in Ellder.
I’d been feeding him bits of the dried meat that Brother Dime gave to Evie and me, but Faze was used to drinking milk, too. And he was as sick of riding as we were. It had been too many days tucked in his carrier. The constant jostling and his own lack of freedom meant he was grumpy.
When I fished him out earlier, he’d bared his fangs and hissed. I’d flicked him on the nose.
Evie trudged to the shoreline, her arms limp at her sides.
My hand came to my heart, rubbing at the ache. How did I do this? How did I help her? I had no idea how to tell her about Luella’s death or help her cope with losing Zavier. She was too young to have seen so much blood and violence.
“Ease the burden on her heart, Goddess Carine.” I signed the Eight, circling my hand around my face and around my heart. “Give her peace.”
If the prayers for myself went unanswered, I would survive. But I hoped, for Evie’s sake, there was a god or Eight listening.
Faze bounded forward, winding around Evie’s legs.
There were times when I was sure he felt her pain.
Despite the growls and snarls he sent my way, he’d rarely left her side these past five days.
He was always close, always patient. When she’d pull him into her arms and bury her face in his pink fur, he didn’t so much as squirm.
I turned away from the lake, mentally summoning the strength to lift Freya’s saddle, when movement at the trees beyond Brother Dime made me go still. A rider on a black horse trotted into the meadow.
For a single heartbeat, I thought it was Ransom. I thought he’d found us and could lead us somewhere safe. But then my eyes caught up with my hopeful heart and I realized the horse wasn’t black but another blue roan. And the person in its saddle was another priest.
In one gnarled hand, he held the roan’s leads. In the other was a rope haltered to a brown horse trotting close behind.
Brother Dime led Freya to me, careful, as always, not to touch my hand as he transferred the reins.
Did Dime know why I could feel Voster magic when others couldn’t? I’d been too dazed since leaving Ellder to pester the priest for information, but if we were going to be traveling together, maybe I could get some answers.
“Who is that?” Evie appeared at my side, staring up at Brother Dime.
He dropped to a crouch, but he was so tall that even on bended knee she had to lift her chin to keep his gaze. “Brother Skore. He will be accompanying us as we ride to Ozarth.”
“O-ozarth?” I blinked. “Wait. We’re going to Ozarth? Why?”
He ignored me.