Chapter Thirty-Two
If she went down this path, there was no going back.
The man lowered the musket and fell to his knees.
There was horror in his eyes. They were light green, the pupils blown wide, and a single tear rolled down his cheek as he slowly turned the musket in his hands and pushed the barrel under his chin.
His hands were shaking. He opened his mouth to say something, beg maybe, but nothing came out.
Behind him, the fire roared in the fireplace, throwing soft shadows over the walls, the floor, and the table that was laden with unfinished food.
The red wine sparkled in the crystal glasses.
The man wore a uniform in iron gray and black.
He was out of place among the warm colors of the dining room, all tans and russets, and he looked young, younger than a few minutes before, when his eyes had been hardened by hate.
Terror gave his features a childlike softness.
He didn’t want to do it. He pulled the trigger.
Seraphina jolted awake. Panting, sweating, she scrambled to get her bearings, to remember where she was, and she nearly fell off the divan.
The room came into focus in grays and blacks.
She turned her head toward the spot in front of the fireplace.
She could’ve sworn the man from her dream had knelt right there.
There was no one, not a single shadow. The fireplace was cold after the little fire they’d made a few hours ago, and the temperature in the room had dropped significantly.
“What happened?” Rune asked, sitting up in the armchair he’d fallen asleep in.
“Nothing. It was just a bad dream.” She ran a hand over her face and adjusted her scarf. Every time she dreamed, it unsettled her that she dreamed in color. It was more disturbing when it was a nightmare. “Is it light yet? We should go.”
“It’s still dark,” he said.
She nodded. “Better get a headstart.”
Seraphina felt restless. They’d spent too many days in Langenbach and had almost forgotten again what their mission was.
Every time they reached an inn or a tavern, and every time they found a warm bed to sleep in, she was lulled by the promise of a peaceful life.
Which didn’t exist, she had to remind herself.
She would not stop again, not rest again before she got her hands on either Eisengrau or one of his men.
She got up, found her walking stick, and checked the pockets of her cloak to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be.
Matteo’s journal rested against her ribs, and the relic they’d found was at the bottom of a pocket, within reach if she wanted to feel it in her hand and remind herself that it was real and she owned an apex relic now.
Outside, it was freezing. They wrapped their cloaks tightly around them, pulled up their hoods, and made their way to the stable, where they’d taken the horses the night before.
They didn’t mount them at once. They took the reins and walked beside them, so both humans and horses would warm up a little before they set to cover hours of travel.
Rune led them around the town of Langenbach and through the forest, southwest. It wasn’t long to Freising now, but they had to stay out of sight, especially as they were about to cross into enemy territory. They had to be on high alert because they wouldn’t know when it happened.
The fresh layers of snow crunched under the horses’ hooves.
The animals found their way carefully, and neither Seraphina nor Rune hurried them.
Seraphina held her walking stick close, at her side as she held the reins, and focused on the smallest noises around them.
She ducked her head to avoid tree branches and noticed that Rune was doing it more often than her.
Atop his horse, he looked huge. His wide frame covered by his cloak from head to toe made him look imposing, even scary.
Anyone would think twice before crossing him, and that made Seraphina feel safe letting him lead.
Usually, she was the one who led, and she’d done it in Ingolstadt, but now Rune was sure of himself and confident in his strength, and that made her think that he was finally starting to inhabit his own body.
They must’ve ridden for two hours when they heard footsteps approaching. Two men, as far as Seraphina could tell, and they were walking cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible, which told her that they’d spotted her and Rune already.
They stopped the horses and jumped down. If the men were ill-intentioned, Seraphina had her daggers, and Rune had his bare hands. They waited for them to show themselves.
There were two soldiers, dressed in the iron gray and black uniforms of the High Harvester’s army, with tall, cylindrical shakos on their heads, and black leather belts that crossed their chests in an X pattern.
All this, Rune described to her as the soldiers approached them.
He also noted the muskets they had pointed at them.
“Halt,” one of them commanded. “Who are you and where are you going?”
“We’re travelers–” Seraphina started, but she was interrupted unceremoniously.
“Hoods down, let me see your faces,” the second soldier said.
Seraphina inclined her head. She felt Rune looking at her from the corner of his eye, and she nodded.
They weren’t going to be impressed by a blind woman, but certainly Rune’s visage was going to have an impact.
If nothing else, it would work as a distraction.
In her mind, she was already going through the motions of disarming the man nearest to her.
Rune could’ve taken them both, of course, but she didn’t want him fighting all her fights.
He revealed himself to them, and the soldiers’ reaction was something to behold. Seraphina grinned when they both lowered their muskets and took a few steps back. Then her grin turned into a frown when they spoke.
“Revenant,” the first man said.
“You’re one of those who got away,” the second man whispered.
Seraphina felt Rune go tense. He stood rigid, unmoving, and she was reminded of how he’d used to cower when he felt pressured by the sky, the woods, and the wind. She took a step toward him, reaching for his sleeve, but the soldiers raised their muskets and pointed them at her.
“Hold right there. Who are you, woman? Why are you with him?”
Seraphina bit her lip. She’d expected Rune to do something when he saw they were threatening her, but he made no move and no sound.
“We’re together,” she said. “I don’t know who you think he is, but you’re wrong.”
“He’s one of the Lord Harvester’s creatures,” the first soldier said. “If he follows us, we will return him home.”
“But you,” the second soldier waved his musket at her. “Step away from him and identify yourself.”
Seraphina had no intention of doing that.
“Rune,” she whispered.
All he did was bow his head, and she understood she was alone this time.
She didn’t know what was happening, but these men’s words had paralyzed Rune.
She threw her stick in the snow, reached underneath her cloak, and pulled her daggers.
A crack split the air when one of the soldiers pulled the trigger.
She moved right, and the ball missed her.
She had no choice but to rush toward the thickest tree and position herself behind it.
“How can she do that? She’s blind!”
The relic showed Seraphina that Rune hadn’t moved. The men weren’t threatening him. On the contrary, it was more like they were protecting him from her. She didn’t know what to think about that.
They shot at her again, and she heard the lead balls hit the tree trunk. The men reloaded, shot, and Seraphina felt the next two balls rush through the air, inches from her face.
If Rune didn’t recover, they might actually get her. The horses had neighed and fled in fright, kicking the snow with their hooves, and Seraphina knew they were gone. She cursed under her breath and considered her options. There weren’t many or very good.
More balls flew, the cracking sounds of the muskets firing disturbing the birds that hadn’t migrated, and the smell of gunpowder stung Seraphina’s nostrils.
She felt anger rush through her. Anger at Rune because he wasn’t reacting, and anger at herself because she’d walked right into this impossible situation.
A month ago, she wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. But she’d grown cocky, relying on Rune and his supernatural strength, and his raw determination to keep her safe. She’d thought that as long as she had him, she could let her guard down a little because he had her back.
Frustration, disappointment, and despair followed the anger.
The emotions churned and throbbed under her skin.
Seraphina needed something to ground her, so she placed her daggers back in their sheaths and reached into her pocket and found the relic.
She squeezed it in her fist, but the turmoil inside her didn’t abate.
If only she knew what the bone did, if only she could use it to get herself and Rune out of this mess.
“You...” She was trembling, chest rising and falling rapidly. Heat rushed through her body, straight into her brain. “You...” She stepped from behind the tree, head held high, and through Saint Vivia’s relic, she saw the first soldier’s shadow recharge his musket. “You, stop.”
The man froze. He looked up at her, eyes wide, and for some reason, the shift she sensed in him made Seraphina feel powerful.
“You,” she said again, directing her will straight at him, “drop your weapon.”
The soldier’s hands unclasped, and both the gunpowder cartridge and the musket fell in the snow at his feet, sinking slightly. He simply stood like that, shaking and staring at her, as if waiting to see what she would say next.
The second soldier regarded him with horror.
“Huber, what’s wrong with you? Snap out of it.”