Chapter Ten Samira
TEN SAMIRA
Velka crouched beside me and held out a wooden plate filled with some sort of smoked fish and a tin cup of that strange milky drink they all seemed to enjoy. “I’m sure it’s not as fancy as the stuff you usually eat,” she said with the barest hint of a smile, “but it’s better than nothing.”
I stared at the bit of roasted fish, slightly pink and charred along the edges.
If I allowed it, my stomach would have let out a loud rumble.
I was hungry. But I was used to hunger. For the most part, I was pretty good at ignoring it.
The only times it was really difficult were when I had to look directly at food, like the night of the invasion.
Or right now, staring at the plate of fish.
The rest of the Seven ate the exact same thing around the campfire.
Muscles in Dalla’s jaw popped as she chewed and chewed and chewed.
The fish must be really tough. Something that would make my queen turn up her nose.
But all I could think about was how hollow my stomach felt, how that persistent gnawing had become almost impossible to ignore.
I wanted to eat. Very, very badly.
My eyes flicked up to Velka. She was only a few years older than me, with a light brown braid that hung over her shoulder, a couple of feet shorter than Keir’s. Her heart-shaped face remained soft and open as she held the plate out in one heavily tattooed hand. Her smile was kind. Yet I hesitated.
I had decided that morning that they would definitely wait to kill me until we’d reached their king, but as the day had gone by, with Keir’s words echoing in my ears, I’d come to the conclusion that I couldn’t trust a single thing they said or did.
They possessed manipulative magic that could turn my own mind against me.
I’d already seen the strength of their Shifter abilities, capable of ripping apart Ashorah’s fiercest soldiers and sniffing out a lie when they weren’t even in their animal forms. It stood to reason their magic would be just as strong.
They weren’t safe. I had to remain vigilant. If she wanted me to eat the fish, then I definitely shouldn’t eat the fish.
I shook my head and pulled my knees to my chest, resting my still-tender back against the tree trunk.
Velka frowned. “You must be hungry, Your Majesty. Or at least thirsty.”
“I’m fine.” As an afterthought, I added, “Thank you.” My chains clanked loudly as I wrapped my arms around my knees, folding into myself. The skin around my wrists, rubbed raw from the metal shackles, pulsed painfully in time with my heartbeat.
“Are you sure? We still have a full day—”
“She said she doesn’t want it,” Bain said around the food in his mouth. “Don’t beg her.”
Unintentionally, my gaze slid to Keir sitting beside him. He was already looking at me, plate licked clean. He’d scarfed it down without thought. “Bain’s right,” he said. “If she doesn’t want to eat, leave her be.”
“Keir, come on. You said she’d eat today.”
“Well, I didn’t know she was on a diet, did I?” He rolled his eyes and chucked his plate to the ground. “If you care so much, force-feed her.”
Ice shot through my veins, and I shook my head, ready to beg for a second time.
But Velka just sighed and rose, taking the plate and cup with her. “I’ll see if anyone wants seconds.”
“I want seconds,” Bain said.
“Assholes don’t get seconds.” Velka glared and stalked off toward the tents. Bain watched her go with a strange look in his eyes. I was too caught up in my own relief to try to decipher it.
Conversation picked up within the circle. Bain leaned over and mumbled something to Keir, which made him laugh.
I’d opted for not sitting within the warmth of the circle tonight.
I wanted to remain as far away from them as possible, especially after deciding that Keir was trying to use his heretic magic on me.
But as I watched Velka return with an empty plate, the X on my chest throbbed, reminding me of familiar guilt and shame.
Maybe I should have eaten the fish. Maybe that was what my queen would have wanted me to do.
Or would she prefer that I starve myself before I reach their king, so the Kaldfolk would never think they’d gotten the better of the Gods-Chosen?
Questions and indecision swirled through my head.
I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what was right or wrong, what the gods would reward me for, what would see them turning their backs on me.
The one thing I did know: I was failing them.
I could almost feel the Seven Monarchs’ disappointed eyes searing into me, Ketet and her husband, Phadar, and all the other gods. Weak, useless, pathetic. If I were still in Khada Palace, I’d be punished for such failure, and gods knew I’d deserve it.
The thoughts festered, filling me with guilt so acidic it felt as if it were burning away my stomach lining.
The campfires faded and darkness stole in.
Even the Seven’s fire was allowed to gutter to mere embers, all of them shutting their eyes.
No one to keep watch. I assumed that meant someone else, maybe among the tents, had been charged with that shift tonight.
It gave me just enough privacy to carry out my own punishment.
I dug my already raw wrists farther into the bolts of the shackles, biting my tongue against the pain. Blood welled up, trickled down, made my hands slick.
Ketet, forgive me. I will not back away from your will again. I will face it. I will—
My right hand slipped free.
The world came to a screeching halt.
The red of my blood glistened under the light of the stars. It had coated my hand so thoroughly that it had taken no real effort to slide it out of the shackle.
My eyes flicked to my left hand, also slick with blood. Slowly, I pulled.
It slipped out, too.
I held my free hands in front of my face, gaping.
Run.
No, it was too easy. It was—
I looked around the camp.
The Kaldfolk’s chests rose and fell rhythmically, a couple snored. No one shouted in alarm. No one came at me with swords. It was as if nothing had happened.
Run!
I rose to my feet as silently as possible, careful not to jostle a single twig, eyes firmly trained on the sleeping monsters. The Frozen Sands’ white peaks were just barely visible in the distance, iridescent in the moonlight. I took a step—
No. No, this was not freedom, but a sign from Ketet. A sign that I wasn’t a prisoner. I was an agent of the gods. I was protecting the Gods-Chosen, protecting all of Ashorah. If I fled now… I didn’t think the Mother would forgive that.
I rubbed my hand over my chest, feeling the grooves of the X through my nightgown. I couldn’t run. I wouldn’t.
I was weak and useless and pathetic, a coward. The bottom of my nightgown was still stained with my own piss. But all I had to do to make up for it—was nothing. Sit, stay, take whatever the Kaldfolk had planned. That was all I had to do.
As quietly as I’d gotten free, I slid my hands back into their shackles and settled against the ground. Wrists aching, I pulled the blanket they’d given me all the way up to my frozen nose.
When I glanced up, Keir was looking right at me. His yellow eyes were beacons in the night. He hadn’t made a sound, hadn’t even sat up, but I knew he’d seen the whole thing.
My stomach bottomed out, knuckles white around the blanket. Something told me that if I had tried to run, I would’ve been carrion before I’d gotten very far.
Eventually, his eyes drifted closed again.
In the morning, Keir and the others gathered their supplies as usual. No one even sniffed strangely in my direction. I almost thought the whole thing had been ignored or forgotten.
Until Keir climbed into the saddle behind me. He gripped my arms and reeled me back against him. I swallowed my wince as my back twinged. “Try that again,” he growled into my ear, “and I’ll really give you a reason to piss yourself. Consider this your one warning, Majesty.”
I nodded quickly, shoulders by my ears, stomach coiling tightly.
He seized my jaw and twisted me to face him. Those gleaming eyes seared into mine. “Tell me you understand.”
“I un-understand,” I stuttered obediently.
His nostrils flared. His fingers softened imperceptibly, a strange look flashing through his eyes, before he grunted, “Good.” He released me roughly, took up the reins, and kicked the horse into motion.
It took another two days before we finally approached what looked like civilization. A place that used to be populated, but now the wooden buildings were in disrepair, and there weren’t enough people milling around to account for the number of buildings.
The farther north we traveled, the colder it grew. Not even Keir’s abnormal body heat was enough to chase it off. I clamped my jaw as tightly as I could to stop my teeth chattering, but it did little good.
Keir sighed in annoyance. I heard the soft snick of a clasp being undone and then warmth blanketed me.
A weight settled on my shoulders. He’d draped his fur cloak around me.
Heat seeped into me, mercifully warming my frigid bones, wrapping me in a spicy, earthy smell. Like a mulberry tree. “Thank you.”
Beneath the cloak, Keir wore a thick gray tunic over matching wool pants, tied with a wide leather belt around his center. A pendant in the shape of a bear hung from a cord around his neck. “Your shivering was getting irritating.” He didn’t even deign to look at me.
Regardless, I burrowed into the cloak.
We passed expansive forests, filled with trees I’d never seen in Ashorah.
There was something strange about them. Not just the way they curled in on themselves instead of standing tall, or the leaves that hung limply from their branches.
Despite the bright clouds in the overcast sky, darkness seemed to writhe in the forests’ depths.
Hypnotic. Beckoning. I felt myself beginning to lean out of the saddle.
Horrified, I jerked myself upright again.
No one else seemed fazed or even bothered to mention it, which only intensified my disturbed shudder.
Eventually, real towns began to trickle into view.
They grew more congested the longer we traveled.
We rode past villages full of Kaldfolk. Wooden cabins and fenced farms. People stared at us, eyes wide.
I thanked the gods there wasn’t any of the depravity and violence from Nadia’s story. At least none that I could see.
It was dark by the time our horses finally slowed in front of a large house made of cedarwood.
Its rounded roof towered over us, and its walls extended all the way into the mountain behind it, wood melding with stone.
Immense carved double doors gaped open in front of us, bordered by two tall flags of white and brown, each with a ferocious bear at its center.
“Cano,” Keir barked.
The young Kald halted his horse beside us.
“Cabin.”
“On it.” Cano dismounted and jogged off.
Before I could see where he was going, Keir slid gracefully off our horse, then turned to me.
He yanked me unceremoniously from the saddle and plunked me at his side.
My bottom had gone mostly numb from the long ride, and the muscles in my back had cramped from the awkward position I’d taken to lean away from him.
He gave me an experimental sniff and shrugged.
“Only residual fear. Good enough.” Then he shoved me through the doors.