Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dahlia
“You’re angry at me,” Dahlia stated as she knelt underneath a pine tree.
She scooped away the snow from the roots with the tiny shovel Lo had given her.
Apparently, it was a children’s toy, but it got the job done.
She brushed away the leftover flurries until greenery was revealed and leaned back onto her heels, staring at the pungent herbs.
It was amazing that something so delicate could survive the harsh cold.
She glanced over to the silent healer, who dug her own hole. Her blue brows were furrowed.
It had been four days since Olwen had caught Lia and given her an ultimatum.
She still did not understand why he had not taken Lia to the king at once.
Everything felt like a game. Was the commander just playing with her to drag out the pain and suspense?
It didn’t seem likely. He was straightforward.
If games were to be played, that was Flyka and the king’s realm.
Sighing, Dahlia set her shovel down in the snow and tugged on her gloves. “Lo.”
“Dahlia.”
“Explain to me why you’re so angry.”
Her friend stabbed the snow with her shovel and tipped her head back to stare at the setting sun. “You’ve given up.”
That was not it at all. Lia swallowed hard and roughly yanked the herbs out of the ground. She scowled at the roots and then tossed the plant into her basket, a spray of dirt arcing through the air. “I do not see it that way.”
Loshika huffed. “You’ve had a sword hanging over your head since the moment we fled the palace. I expected it to light a fire in your soul. For you to fight, but I have watched day after day as you fade away right in front of me.”
Lia winced. Her friend was not wrong. Past Dahlia Skysinger could have borne the emotional load that sat heavily upon her shoulders, but not present-day Lia. When would the loss and pain stop?
Three days from now.
Perhaps Loshika was right. There was something wrong with her. It was like she was stuck in a black pit that she could not crawl out of, and there was no light in sight.
“I am doing my best.” Her best just was not as good as it used to be.
“If you say so.” Dahlia glanced at the giantess as she stood and brushed the snow from her dress and cloak. “It is time we venture back. We have come deeper into the mountains than I planned, and it will be well past dark before we reach home. Cosmos will be worried.”
Home. What an odd word. They did not have a home.
They had packed up all their belongings the same night Olwen had shown up and fled to the tavern.
Lady Diaz had not asked questions, only given them lodging in her attic.
It was more kindness than Lia deserved and not enough for the two wonderful people traveling with her.
It was a blessing that Lo and Cosmos had bonded. She’d worried the day would come that her brother would be left alone in the world with much growing up yet to do. Loshika would be a good friend and guide to Cos. While it was a beautiful thing, it still made her heart ache.
She dropped the shovel into the wicker basket before scooping it into the crook of her arm. Lia shook out her skirt and cloak and then stomped her feet. They were always cold. That and her toes.
Faded black hair fell into her face, and she brushed it away from her chin, wincing as she accidentally swiped the long cut beneath her jawline. It would leave a long scar, but Lo said it had cleaned up well. She only needed a few stitches.
A shimmer of silver caught her eye. She frowned and plucked the pin from the snow.
Lia rubbed her thumb across the surface, revealing a dimedon—the bearlike creature of Loriia.
Someone had lost a pretty piece. Perhaps it would fetch a good price.
She placed the pin in her basket and followed behind the nonnae.
Dahlia picked her way through the snow, making sure to step in Loshika’s footsteps. The giantess had already cut the path for them. They’d almost reached the top of the first hill when Lo spun on her feet and stabbed a finger at Lia.
“And what about Cosmos?” she demanded, her voice growing louder. “Are you truly going to leave your only flesh and blood?”
“We’ve discussed this, Lo.” Heat filled her face as a small flicker of anger ignited in her chest. “What choice do I have?” she demanded.
“Would you rather I wait until Olwen sends the Haunts after me? And make no mistake, he will. They will slaughter anyone in association with me. That includes you and my brother. And if by some miracle they do not, would you wish him to see me beaten and dragged away?” She shook her head, tears heating her eyes.
“His mother was drowned in front of him. Do you think I do not hear his nightmares at night? The way he calls for her? The guilt on his face when he thinks of her?” The tears spilled over, cooling on her cheeks.
She angrily wiped at them. Lia was so tired of crying.
“That boy does not deserve one more horror in this life. If I can spare him that, I will.”
“You think walking away will not hurt him?” Loshika tossed her hands up, her own basket slipping almost up to her shoulder. “Then you are more na?ve than I took you for. You are acting like a fool.” The giantess turned her back to Lia and stomped up the incline.
How dare she?
Dahlia lifted her skirt and chased after Lo. “What would you have me do?” she shouted, reaching the saddle of the mountain.
Loshika spun to face her, tearing off her scarf, her scars now on full display. She flung her hand toward Mizar. “I want you to fight, to do anything but give in.”
“How am I supposed to fight two kingdoms?” Lia cried. “I am just one person. I am not powerful or royal or rich or cunning or ruthless. I am but a bard who wants to save her brother and disappear into obscurity. I am nothing but a pawn.”
One tear dripped down Lo’s scarred cheek and it felt like Lia had been punched in the gut. She’d never seen the giantess cry. “You are so much more than that, Lia. You are pragmatic, compassionate, hardworking, and loyal. Do you think I would pick up and follow just anyone?”
Blinking hard to keep the tears at bay, Lia whispered, “I’m broken.”
“And I am scarred, but we are more than what others have done to us,” Lo answered, eating up the distance between them. She took Dahlia’s gloved hands in her own and squeezed. “Do not let them take any more from you. You hold more power than you know.”
“What do I do?” She exhaled slowly, despair pressing down on her. “I do not know what to do.”
Loshika pulled her into a hug, her warmth enveloping Dahlia as she broke down and cried. Weeks of fear released in a torrent of ugly sobs and hiccups. Through it all, her friend held her as if to hold all the jagged pieces of herself together.
The tears eventually slowed, followed by a wave of exhaustion.
“Thank you,” she muttered into Lo’s damp top. “I do not deserve you.”
The giantess stepped back, holding onto Dahlia’s shoulders.
“Do not say that. You showed me kindness when others did not. You did not judge me for the way I look or my past. You could have left me behind, and you did not. You have given me a family. You deserve good friends because you are a good friend.”
A slow handclap startled Lia and she flinched away from the sound. Fear seized her as a giant with skin the color of bleached bone stepped from behind one of the trees. “What a touching moment.”
A Haunt.
Her eyes darted around, looking for more elite soldiers. Only the woods and mountains. What kind of trick was this? How much of their conversation had he heard? Did he know who they were?
Loshika released Lia, stepping in front of her, tension in the giantess’ body. “It was, my brother. You’re a long way from home.”
Home as in the palace?
The giant chuckled, but it set Dahlia’s nerves on edge. Her senses screamed that something was very wrong.
“I’m right where I should be,” he commented, his sharp gaze assessing them. “But you aren’t. Tell me why two valles are so deep in the mountains.”
Lo held out her basket. “I’m a nonnae and the halfling is my nonnaette. We have been searching for herbs for Mizar and the army. Many need our care.”
Smart to mention the army. It made them seem like they would be missed. Lia slipped her hand into her pocket and wrapped her sweaty palm around the dagger hidden there. While the giant had made no move toward them, he felt . . . sinister. And if she knew one thing, it was to trust her gut.
“I see.” He took a step closer, and they took one backward. He paused, cocking his head to the side, studying them. “It is dangerous in the mountains, valles. It is unwise to traipse about the woods without protection.”
A threat if Lia had ever heard one. She peered over her shoulder and blanched when she spotted another giant lurking in a tree nearby, his ghostly pale body still as stone.
Another lounged on a nearby fallen tree trunk.
Her breathing sped up as she turned and leaned her back against Lo’s. There were at least eight giants.
An ambush.
They wore simple blue-and-black uniforms with a .
. . Lia squinted at the symbol pinned on the right shoulder of the nearest giant.
A dimedon—the same one she’d found. This was no ragtag group of bandits.
They had very official-looking pins that matched.
They looked like Haunts, and yet . . . they were not.
Their features were too sharp and pointed ears too long.
She hid a shudder when one of the giants smiled. All his teeth were pointed.
“Lo,” she whispered underneath her breath. They were dealing with something other here.
“I know,” the nonnae replied.