Chapter 8 Kiera
Kiera
The fires were burning low as I wandered back through the camp. My head ached and my stomach sloshed. Whatever meat I’d eaten was turning on me. I was also tired to my bones. I just wanted to sleep and forget this night had ever happened.
I considered wandering into random tents to find an empty one, but I doubted that would go over well with any occupants.
I wondered where Aiden would sleep.
Cursing my treacherous mind and wishing I couldn’t still feel his hands and lips on my skin, I trudged back to the main fire.
The smell of charred meat and sour mead hit me like a sea wave, and my stomach heaved. I scrambled for a bucket just in time to vomit into it.
I groaned, thankful everyone was asleep. Well, almost everyone.
Yarina rolled over from where she’d been dozing next to the man she’d been kissing, her clothes askew.
She smirked. “Ah, so you do it on land, too, princess.”
The title reminded me of Aiden, but exhaustion defeated the rise of anger. “Shut up, Yarina.”
She chuckled. “Take my bed in the lodge over there.” She jerked her chin to the round lodge behind her. “Davka snores, but Sigrid’s on night watch, so you should be safe.”
Comforting. But I was desperate for something that wasn’t a hammock or the ground.
Besides, I had my sunstone knife if someone got hostile.
I patted my hip to make sure it was still there. Odd. I hadn’t even thought to use it on Aiden. Nor had he taken it from me.
“Perhaps because you don’t hate me at all, princess.”
As if he could possibly understand how I felt.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and set aside the bucket.
“I’ll take it,” I told Yarina. I gathered myself off the ground and walked past her. “Thank you.”
“Wouldn’t want you to hurt your royal backside.”
I rolled my eyes and ducked around the heavy fur flap that served as the lodge’s door. The lodge itself was basically a huge, very sturdy tent shaped like an upside-down bowl.
A small lantern illuminated the wooden skeleton frame that housed three beds and an assortment of chests. Clothes and weapons were strewn about the place. It was surprisingly cozy—the hides and furs covering the wooden frame kept out the cold wind.
And true enough, Davka was sprawled across one bed, snoring loudly. The other two beds sat empty. I did a thorough examination of both to guess which one was Yarina’s, as the last thing I wanted was to wake up to Sigrid dragging me out of her bed at knifepoint.
Yarina’s scythes lay next to the one with sky-blue and crimson bedding, so I collapsed into that one. I kicked off my boots and rolled under the blankets.
The bed smelled a little stale and unfamiliar, but it was soft, and I could fully stretch out in it.
I fell asleep in moments.
And then . . . I was kissing Aiden again. It should’ve shocked me how easily my mind fell back to him. But in my dream, I walked toward him without hesitation.
His familiar scent of salt and sunshine mixed with leather enveloped me. He smiled at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “My little thief.”
My heart fluttered as it had before. His green eyes glowed before he kissed me. Soft and gentle at first, then deeper and harder, like he couldn’t get enough. Happiness spread through my body. This was right. This was good.
But then something changed.
His rough stubble grew softer and longer under my fingers. His scent changed to that of a candle just blown out. And we weren’t kissing. We were standing on the edge of a cliff, a canyon of impenetrable darkness stretching before us.
I took a step back, taking in his dark hair and beard. His deep brown, emotionless eyes.
Renwell had found me.
A shiver rattled between my shoulder blades. I reached for my mother’s knife, but only grasped air.
“Where are we?” I demanded.
He smiled. “At the Abyss, my dear apprentice.”
My heart stilled. I glanced away from him to the pit of blackness. The Longest Night. Legend said demons waited at the bottom for those who couldn’t cross.
I peered at the other side of the Abyss, but it was empty. Barren.
“She’s not waiting for you on the other side,” Renwell said softly. “No one is.”
I closed my eyes tightly. “You’re lying. My mother would never leave me.”
“But she did. She chose death over you.”
Pain ripped through my heart, and I gasped, my eyes widening. I reached for my chest, but nothing had struck it. I felt only the thin scar from the Shadow-Wolf’s sunstone knife.
Renwell watched me, his pale face devoid of emotion. He gestured to the Abyss with a gloved hand. “You can either jump and meet your father at the bottom. Or . . .” He extended his hand out to me. “You can come with me, and you’ll never be alone again.”
I ground my teeth together, my breath coming in short bursts. “The only way I’m going into the Abyss is if I take you with me.”
A spark of excitement lit his eyes. He beckoned me. “Come try, then.”
My sunstone knife suddenly appeared in my hand. I leaped at him, stabbing toward his chest. He blocked me easily. His sword swung at his hip, but he didn’t reach for it.
Enraged, I swiped again and again, and met only air. He tripped me. My ankle gave way on the uneven, rocky surface, but I scrambled back to my feet, limping.
He grinned, his expression fully coming alive as it only ever seemed to in training.
I switched the knife to my other hand, the hilt growing slippery with sweat. I lunged, my movements slow and sluggish. He evaded.
On and on it went. For hours. Days. I didn’t know. I was too weak, too slow. I could never defeat him.
Without warning, Renwell seized my throat and swept me over the edge of the Abyss. Immediately, screams and howls rose from the darkness. As if the demons within sensed their next victim.
I gasped and struggled, my legs flailing over nothing. Renwell didn’t react, as though he were stronger than ten men.
He stared at me, contempt twisting his mouth. “You will never see them again.”
Then he let go.
I fell with a scream.
Falling, falling into darkness.
Then somebody was shaking me, calling my name.
My eyes flew open with a gasp. Yarina’s tired blue eyes stared back at me. She grasped one of my arms with her usable hand.
“Put the knife down, princess,” she commanded.
Still panting, I glanced down. Mother’s knife was clutched in my sweaty fist.
I swore and dropped it onto the rumpled blankets.
Yarina slowly released me, sitting next to me on her bed. Her braids were mussed, and she had a crease on one cheek as though she’d just woken up.
I rubbed my damp face. “Is it morning?”
“Yes. I came to change when you started thrashing like an eel.” Her eyes narrowed, studying me. “Bad dream?”
I averted my eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“Grandmother always said bad dreams are like weeds. If you don’t kill the source, they’ll just keep coming back.”
I grunted. If only it were that easy.
“You kept saying the name ‘Renwell.’ Same bastard that took over your kingdom?”
“Yes.”
“He do that to you?”
She pointed at my chest where my shirt had drifted down to reveal my scar.
“No. One of his Wolves did.”
Yarina’s nostrils flared with disgust. “I hope you gave him a worse one.”
“He’s dead.” Aiden killed him to save me.
“Excellent. How come you have one of their knives?” She pointed to where Mother’s knife glittered on the bed between us.
“It’s not theirs. It was my mother’s.” I sheathed it back at my waist.
She waited as if I would fill in more of the story, but I was in no mood to oblige. Besides, it wasn’t just my story.
“Regardless,” she continued, “I’d keep it hidden if I were you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
Yarina stood up and started rooting through the mess on the floor.
“People know it as the weapon of the enemy. You’re already a Rellmiran princess and spy.
Folks won’t take any more kindly to you if you’re wielding a blade made from the gods-damned stone our friends and relatives are mining in captivity. ”
Fucking Four, I wished I could destroy that whole damn mine and Renwell’s plans along with it. If I’d become High Enforcer, that would’ve been my first stop. That and cleaning out the Den of any prisoners who shouldn’t be there.
But I was powerless. Just like I’d been in my dream.
“I’ll keep it hidden,” I told Yarina. “Unless Renwell happens to wander by. Then I’ll shove it in his heart where it belongs.”
Yarina’s golden eyebrows shot up. She grinned. “Now you’re talking. You know, I think I’m starting to like you, princess.”
“Not if you’re still calling me princess,” I grumbled, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and reaching for my boots.
She laughed and plucked a shirt from the mess.
“Do you need help?” I asked, gesturing to her arm in its sling.
“Absolutely not. But you can go rinse your mouth for me. Your breath stinks.”
I blew her a breathy kiss, and she pretended to gag, then elbowed me in the ribs on my way out.
Her teasing reminded me of Everett and Delysia. How we used to be with each other before we got older and slotted into our predetermined roles. Things were so much simpler back then. And now . . .
My smile dimmed.
“You will never see them again.”
Had Dream Renwell been referring to my siblings? All the more reason to get to them sooner. Kill the nightmare, as Frieda had said.
I shoved open the fur flap. Sunlight pierced my skull like a spear, and I groaned. Gods-damned Dags and their mead and their wild funerals.
The day seemed closer to noon than dawn. Yet a few Dags still laid about on blankets. Others sat and smoked pipes and chatted with neighbors.
Steaming pots hung over the ever-present fires tended by men and women alike. I recognized a tall, willowy figure and made my way over to Nikella.
Her scarred arms were bare over the heat of the fire.
She expertly stirred whatever was in the pot, her focused expression aligning the deep scar that bisected her face.
Without her usual long-hooded robe, she looked more like a warrior than a Teacher.
But I supposed all Rellmiran Teachers used to be warriors before Father had outlawed fighting instruction.
I wondered if Nikella had obeyed that particular law.
She glanced up at me, and for a moment, her stern look reminded me of her brother.
“Hungry?” she asked.
I nodded. “And thirsty.”
She pointed to a bucket of water. Hopefully not the same bucket I’d vomited in the night before.
I ladled myself a sip.
Cold, clean water washed over my bitter tongue. I gulped more and more. It tasted amazing. Like the freshness of the air, but in water.
“There’s tooth powder if you need some of that, too,” Nikella said, ladling what looked like porridge into two bowls. “I mixed it up this morning.”
I picked up the satchel of glittery pale green powder. I rubbed a pinch over my teeth, appreciating the hard flecks that scraped away the grime. A minty taste bloomed in my mouth.
I spat and rinsed, then joined Nikella on a worn log. She handed me a bowl and spoon, and we ate in silence. The porridge was good. Thick and creamy, with a hint of cinnamon and apple. It helped settle my stomach.
A few Yargoths passed and greeted Nikella, who offered each one some of her porridge. They took it gladly and went on their way.
I wanted to ask her about Aiden and where he was. About Renwell and what they planned to do concerning the ships at Calimber. But really, I only needed to ask her one thing.
“Will you draw me a map?” I asked as we watched the Dags go about their day. “Of a path from here to Aquinon by foot.”
She scraped her bowl clean and ate her final bite without changing expression. “What are you going to do in Aquinon?”
I bit my lip. At least she hadn’t outright dismissed me. “Find my brother and sister and get them out.”
“Alone?”
I twirled my spoon in my porridge. “Yes.”
She tilted her head to stare at me. I’d seen her giving the same look to Aiden and Maz. As if she could read their minds and souls through their eyes.
I tried not to fidget as I held her gaze.
She finally nodded. “I will draw the map for you.”
I blinked in surprise. “You aren’t going to stop me?”
“You are aware of the danger that awaits you. You know the likelihood of your success.” She lifted her eyes to the cloudless sky.
“I’ve only ever asked the gods for one favor: to choose how I die.
I would not begrudge someone else’s desire to choose their own fate.
” Her eyes pierced me once more. “You have your reasons, after all.”
“I do,” I murmured, my grip tightening on my bowl. Why had she asked the Four for such a thing? And was she so sure that I would die in my attempt to free Everett and Delysia?
“Renwell won’t kill me,” I said, almost desperately. As if I could convince her that my goal wasn’t completely foolish. “You knew he wouldn’t kill you because you’re his sister. Well, he had a chance to kill me when we escaped, and he didn’t. He might—”
“Care for you?” Nikella’s voice sharpened. “It’s not affection that keeps him from killing us. It’s his need to control, his need to play a game with our lives. He never removes a piece from the board unless it’s no longer of use to him. There’s no telling when that thread of control will snap.”
I remembered how quickly Renwell had beheaded Father. He’d claimed it was to prevent my execution, but none of the Wolves would’ve obeyed Father, anyway. They only listened to Renwell because he’d planned it that way.
Just like he’d probably planned to kill Father in that exact moment, regardless if I was there or not.
“I have to try,” I said.
“I know. I’ll have the map ready in a few days.” With that, Nikella stood and left me alone.
I finished my porridge slowly. I should feel grateful that Nikella had agreed to draw a map and hadn’t argued against my leaving. But I simply felt hollow.
Perhaps all of my goodbyes would be this easy.