Chapter 4 Odessa
Four
Odessa
A tree branch slapped me in the face.
“Ouch.” I batted it away, tasting pine needles and sap. I carefully touched the sting on my cheek, and my fingers came away wet.
Just when I thought this night couldn’t get worse, now I was bleeding. Son of a bitch.
Shades, I hated this.
I hated trees. I hated nature. I hated my saddle, and I hated this night.
The faint light from the crescent twin moons, Aurinda and Aurrellia, was barely enough to see my own hand in front of my face, let alone oncoming tree branches. Trying to see in this darkness was giving me a headache. And Brother Dime, riding ahead of me, couldn’t be bothered to warn me to duck.
I silently glared into the darkness, hoping he’d feel my irritation the same way I could feel his magic.
If not for the sound of his horse’s hooves and the prickle of that magic, I wouldn’t have a damn clue that he was in front of me. The same was true of Brother Skore. He trailed behind, probably to make sure I didn’t get any ideas about leaving our delightful little parade.
It had been three miserable days since we left the mountain lake, and I ached from head to toe. Not even my first journey across Turah, riding beside Tillia, had been this painful.
Thinking of her beautiful face made my heart ache. Was Halston alive? Had he survived losing his leg to the crux? Would he get the chance to meet their baby?
What would Tillia do in this situation? Would she continue riding with the Voster? Or would she say to hell with it and try to escape?
Evie wiggled in the saddle, tearing me from my thoughts.
Her body was pressed against mine, her weight in my arms with her head on my shoulder as she slept.
Even if it cost me everything, I would find a way to get this girl to Quentis. To keep her safe. So I stared ahead, catching the occasional glimpse of Brother Dime’s shadowed figure as we rode into the night.
With my hands loose around the reins, I traced the scar on my palm.
The hole in my chest felt bigger at night. It was too quiet, too lonely, in the dark.
He’s alive.
He was alive. He had to be alive. He wouldn’t have waited long in Treow before returning to Ellder to retrace our path. Would he catch up to us soon?
Or did Brother Dime have a way to hide our trail? Maybe they were using wisps of wind to blow dirt over our tracks.
Gods, I hated the Voster. I hated their magic. I hated their vague statements about fate and destiny. I hated their creepy fingernails and eerie eyes.
The hate simmered under my skin, a constant burn in my chest. And stoking this rage made the heartache easier to forget.
Ransom trusted the priests. That had seemed like enough of a reason to follow Brother Dime out of that dungeon in Ellder. But maybe my husband was wrong. Maybe I’d been right all along to be skeptical of the brotherhood.
Doubt and fear were wearing me thin.
We’d stopped more frequently over the past three days to let the horses recover. It should have been enough time for me to rest, but each time I closed my eyes, I’d panic that the Voster would take Evie while I slept.
Our last stop had been at midday. I’d finally managed to sleep for a few hours, until a dream had jolted me awake.
Long after the sun had set, the nightmare of Luella’s death still haunted my thoughts. In this darkness, it was hard to block out the memory of her body being cleaved in half by the crux.
Another tree branch swung for my face, but this time, I managed to swat it away.
After we left the lake, Brother Dime had warned me that we’d have to ride through the night. He’d insisted these mountains were crawling with grizzur. Zavier had once told me the monsters don’t see well at night, so it was safer to travel after the sun went down.
Were there monsters in these woods? Or was the threat of death by fangs and claws another one of Dime’s ploys, because traveling by night was the most effective way to ensure I stayed lost?
We could be in Turah or Ozarth or the Evon Ravine for all I knew.
Brother Skore murmured something from behind me, the low hum loud enough to reach my ears but too quiet for me to understand the words. After three days and nights listening to those quiet words, I’d come to the conclusion that he was praying.
Except he never signed the Eight. He didn’t speak to any of the Six. Instead, he kept invoking the Divine. Was that another term the Voster used for Ama and Oda?
As tempting as it was to ask, Brother Skore did not seem overly fond of this princess.
In fact, I’d say he was about as happy to be trekking through the mountains at night as I was. Maybe we could bond in our shared misery.
A blast of wind came from behind, Skore’s signal I was going too slow.
Maybe not.
I twisted over my shoulder, pulling free the smelly curls he’d whipped into my face, and gave him my fiercest glare. Could he see in the dark like Ransom? Oh, I hoped so.
“Papa.” Evie’s body jerked, her leg kicking.
The jolt was enough to stir Faze awake in his carrier. He squirmed, his paws pushing into my ribs so hard I winced.
“Shh.” I rocked Evie. “It’s okay.”
She whimpered and kicked again, her mouth turning down in a frown.
Her nightmares were getting worse, and these long, dark nights weren’t helping. Last night she’d fought me so hard I’d nearly dropped her. It was like she was reliving Ellder again. Like she was fighting me as I’d dragged her away from Zavier’s body.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.”
She kicked harder, squirming to be free.
“Wake up, Evie.” As much as she needed to sleep, my arms were too tired to hold her while she thrashed. “Wake up.”
Her eyes popped open, wide and terrified. She blinked up at me, like she was still stuck in the past. Then reality came crashing down.
A reality where her father was gone.
Fat, soul-crushing tears spilled down her cheeks. “I want Papa.”
“I know, little star.”
Her body shook as she buried her face in my chest, letting free the sobs that had been building for days and days.
I didn’t care if it pissed off the Voster. I pulled hard on Freya’s reins, forcing her to stop. Then I wrapped both arms around Evie, holding her while she cried.
“I want Papa.” Her tears coated my shirt. The sound of her heartbreak filled the night, echoing off trees until it floated above their tops like smoke, destined for the shades.
“I’m sorry, Evangeline,” I whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
A gust of magical wind hit my back. I ignored it.
Brother Skore could rot while we took this one godsdamn minute to mourn.
I curled around Evie, stroking her hair as she cried, shielding her from the wind.
He could blow and blow and blow. The asshole. I wasn’t moving.
Only when the sound of hooves stopped at my side and the prickle of magic intensified did I finally look up.
In the dark, his white skin and pale robes glowed.
“What?” I snapped. “Just give us a few—”
A roar sounded in the distance. A roar that was close enough to stop Evie’s sobs in a snap and make her sit up straight.
Oh, hell. I knew that roar. Grizzur.
Skore pointed to the trail ahead. If the other gusts of wind he’d sent were subtle hints, the blast that slammed into my shoulders now was an order.
I was already moving, gripping Freya’s reins as I kicked her forward.
We bolted into the trees, quickly catching Brother Dime as we sped from a walk to a canter.
I adjusted my seat, the muscles in my legs screaming as I struggled to find a rhythm at the faster pace with Evie in front of me and Faze in his carrier against my ribs.
My satchel full of books and the dagger Ransom had given me bounced where I’d secured it to the saddle.
My sword in its sheath smacked me against the spine.
“Hold on,” I told Evie. Told myself. “Just hold on.”
Another roar sounded, loud enough to hear over my pounding heart and Freya’s hooves and Evie’s cries. Brother Skore’s wind was relentless, pushing us forward as he stayed at my side, his robes flowing off his gangly frame.
We rode hard and fast for what felt like days until finally we broke through the trees and into a clearing kissed by moonlight.
Brother Dime drew his mount to a halt, waiting as we came to a stop at his side. He panted, and for the first time, it seemed that this grueling pace had finally caught up to the priest.
“We can’t keep going like this.” My lungs burned, my voice hoarse. Something wet hit my forearm, and it took me a moment to realize it wasn’t a raindrop but one of Evie’s tears. “Please. We need to stop.”
“You masked our scent?” Dime asked Skore, earning a nod.
The wind. It wasn’t to push me forward but to hide our trail from the grizzur.
“We’re nearly there.” Brother Dime urged his horse forward, thankfully at a walk.
I sucked in a deep breath and wrapped my arms around Evie, giving her a hug and a kiss. Then I reached into Faze’s carrier, scratching his head as I nudged Freya forward.
We followed Brother Dime through the clearing and into more trees. When we emerged into a rolling field, a light shone in the distance. It grew steadily larger as we rode to a cabin at the edge of another wood.
The house reminded me of the homes in Ravalli, built from rough-hewn logs and sunken into the ground. There were no spikes on its roof. I hoped whoever lived here would add them before the migration.
Beside the house was a barn built level with the earth. A horse with a white stripe down its nose grazed in a fenced corral.
The front door of the house opened, and a man climbed the stairs, a lantern in one hand, a crossbow in the other.
He was a colossus with brown skin and black hair braided in rows.
His eyes were hard and focused as he raised his weapon.
Then his stern expression vanished and he let the crossbow drop to his side. “Brother Dime.”
“I am sorry for the intrusion, Damon.”
“No apologies. Welcome.” He quickly rushed down the stairs to the house, shouting through the door, “Sally. We have visitors. Put on a kettle.”