Chapter 9 Ahnna
Ahnna
Ahnna eyed the towering mountains looming ahead while using her free hand to first turn up the collar of her coat and then pull her cap farther down over her ears.
Because it was cold. Bitterly cold.
Logically, she’d been aware that the Blackreach Peaks forming much of the border between Amarid and Harendell would force her to endure temperatures she’d never before experienced.
The knowledge hadn’t prepared her for the icy wind that bit through her clothes and cut down to the bone.
It grew worse with every passing hour that Dippy carried her higher into the mountains, and Ahnna felt the altitude keenly, her breath short and exhaustion preying upon her.
These mountains were dangerous.
Even in Ithicana, there was an awareness that the Blackreaches were usually avoided.
Merchants traveled weeks north to go through the Lowlands or used ships to navigate around the peninsula.
The coastline of the peninsula itself was prone to heavy flooding from the Tempest Seas and runoff from the mountains, so no one lived on the barren stretch of land but seals and gulls.
Even so, Ahnna would have traveled that way to reach Amarid if not for the wall that stretched from the Blackreaches into the sea, where riptides made short work of the strongest swimmers.
The Amaridians had built the wall generations ago to dissuade Harendellian attacks.
Thirty feet tall and topped with razor wire, it was watched by archers on both sides because it remained a popular route for those transporting contraband.
The chances of getting caught trying to scale the wall were too high, and she didn’t have time to go north to the Lowlands.
The entire north was against Ithicana, and unless that ruby necklace she’d sent as a warning made it to Northwatch before all had gone to shit, it was possible Aren was entirely unaware of the threat Katarina posed.
Time was of the essence, which meant Ahnna had no choice but to risk traveling through the Blackreach Peaks. They offered not just cold and snow but also treacherous terrain with very little in the way of food for her or Dippy.
“You’ve gone hungry before,” she muttered. “Stick to the road and you’ll be fine.”
A road that was little more than a narrow path, not even wide enough for two horses to travel abreast, which spoke to the lack of traffic through these famed mountains.
Yet it wasn’t just the Blackreaches themselves that dissuaded trade and travel.
It was what hunted these lofty peaks.
Ahnna’s skin prickled with gooseflesh, and she searched the dense conifers around her for signs of motion. The sensation of being watched only grew, so she looked back down the trail, certain that she’d see James in pursuit, murder in his eyes.
The Harendellian trio she’d encountered would have brought word by now to the local garrison, and James would be on her trail. Ahnna had no delusions that he’d be swayed by the message she’d sent with the men, but she’d had to try.
It pained her to admit it, but there was a part of her that hoped he’d see through Alexandra’s schemes.
That he’d believe the queen capable of stabbing herself not once but three times in order to frame Ahnna for murder.
That he knew Ahnna well enough to know that no matter how angry she’d been, she’d never have murdered Edward while he slept in his bed.
That he cared enough to hear her out.
The last made her feel the most foolish of all, because James had proven, in abundance, that he cared far more for Harendell and Cardiff than he did for her.
Ahnna clenched her teeth, trying to force away anything but the most practical thoughts of survival, but in the soft silence of the mountains, there wasn’t enough to distract her from the bite of betrayal that in equal parts made her burn with humiliation and want to curl up and weep.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why making peace between Cardiff and Harendell had been so important to James. It was an admirable goal, and if not for the fact it ran so goddamned counter to her own goals, Ahnna would have applauded it.
The betrayal was that, despite knowing his success meant her failure, James had still allowed…
Ahnna drew in a ragged breath, not wanting to think about what he had allowed to happen between them.
His lips on hers, the taste of his tongue in her mouth, and the feel of him between her legs.
How she had wept and confessed her darkest secrets in his arms, wholly convinced she could trust him with her heart.
In her darker moments, Ahnna was convinced he’d seduced her for the purpose of discovering her secrets. That he’d felt nothing for her and that it had all been an act, the sentiment—and idiocy—hers and hers alone.
Her foolish heart argued otherwise. Screamed that James hadn’t known his father’s plans. That he’d been as caught up and manipulated as she’d been. That he had cared about her as she’d cared for him.
Experience told her that the truth was somewhere in between, but Ahnna did not think there was an explanation that would cure the anger she still felt at how James had done nothing but stand in silence while Edward had stolen away Ahnna’s every hope, humiliating her and Ithicana in pursuit of a better prize.
“Enough,” Ahnna growled at herself. “What’s done is done, and none of it can be changed. Focus on the challenges before you. Focus on what you can do to mitigate the damage. Focus on getting home.”
She might as well have spit into the wind for all the good her words did.
James was clever and tenacious, but more than anything else, he was angry.
There was no doubt in her mind that he was with the group trailing her, their campfire smoke visible in the distance, because for him, this was personal.
If he caught up to her, he’d kill her. Unless she killed him first.
But was she capable of doing so?
Ahnna had the blood of more people than she could count on her hands, but they’d all been strangers.
Had all been people who’d brought violence to Ithicana.
She’d never killed someone she knew, much less someone she’d cared about.
More than cared about. As pragmatic as she could be, Ahnna worried that if it came down to it, she wouldn’t be able to strike a fatal blow.
Why didn’t you kill her? Ahnna remembered screaming at Aren when she’d discovered he’d let Lara go. Why didn’t you cut her fucking throat?
Her brother had only blanched, eyes dark pools of misery, and when she’d demanded that he answer, Jor had told her to back off. But she hadn’t let it go. No part of her had understood why Aren hadn’t killed the woman who’d destroyed everything that mattered to them.
God help her, but Ahnna understood now.
“Except this is different,” she muttered. “Killing Lara would have achieved nothing but revenge, whereas you might have to kill James in order to protect Ithicana.”
Dippy’s ears were swiveled to listen to her, and he snorted loudly and quickened his pace.
“You’re right,” she replied. “Better to just stay ahead of him so it doesn’t—”
Motion and noise exploded from brush at her left, and Dippy shied sideways, nearly unseating her.
Ahnna reached for her bow but then spotted the birds flying up into the sky and checked the reins instead. “Easy, boy.”
Dippy was as nervous as she was, but it had nothing to do with James and everything to do with what else prowled these mountains.
The white lions of the Blackreaches.
She’d heard they were a sort of mountain lion, but rather than sporting tawny fur, they were ghostly white and able to blend into the frosty landscape.
They plagued the shepherds and farmers of the foothills on both sides of the mountain range, easily killing sheep and the dogs that guarded them.
But what put the fear into the hearts of Harendellians and Amaridians alike was that they were man-eaters.
And very good at catching their prey.
Patting Dippy’s neck to steady him, Ahnna extracted an arrow from her quiver.
Ithicana had wild cats, but they weren’t big enough to see humans as prey—Vitex, Aren’s cat, mostly fed on snakes and rodents.
But remembering how Vitex hunted had Ahnna watching the tree branches often as she scoured her surroundings, knowing full well that she was unlikely to see the attack coming.
As the sun fell low, only a thin sliver of orange between two peaks, Ahnna dismounted and lit the lantern hanging from her saddle. Exhausted as both she and her horse were, she needed to put more distance between her and James before setting up camp for the night.
The moon was rising to join the myriad stars in the sky.
It was a slender crescent, barely piercing the shadows around her, leaving the lantern’s glow as her only source of light.
The wind was a constant, chilling howl, rattling her bones as much as it shook the trees.
Each step felt like a risk, as if she were the only prey in a wilderness full of predators.
Ahnna’s hand tightened on Dippy’s reins as she led him onward. His hooves made sharp clacks against the loose stones, his ears flicking back and forth in a constant state of vigilance. She couldn’t blame him. Every shadow seemed like a lurking beast, every sound a warning.
She glanced over her shoulder again, half expecting to see yellow eyes staring back from some hidden crevice in the rock. Her hands were growing numb, and though she wanted to shove them deep in her pockets, Ahnna was unwilling to let go of her grip on her bow.
The path narrowed again, forcing her closer to the edge, where a sheer drop fell away into nothing but blackness.
She took a deep breath and focused on her footing, feeling the sting of cold air in her lungs.
Dippy shuddered beside her, and Ahnna murmured softly to him, “Steady, boy,” the words meant as much to calm herself as the horse.