Chapter 43
Aiden
I hated to leave Wicked behind.
Kiera seemed to feel the same way about Ozlow. She whispered into his alert ears as she handed him over to Nikella.
But we couldn’t bring horses where we were going.
I rubbed Wicked’s nose as he butted my chest. “One day we won’t have to say goodbye, old friend,” I murmured.
He huffed.
I smiled and handed his reins to Ruru, watching until they disappeared into the forest.
Nikella and Ruru were bringing the horses to her Twaryn friends who lived nearby. We’d also left them with our saddlebags and weapons that wouldn’t suit the mine—like the bows and arrows and Maz’s whistler. Nikella assured us the forest dwellers would take good care of everything until we returned.
If we returned.
Henry and his men had already left to make arrangements for us. We were to meet them at dawn, which was fast approaching.
Kiera scattered the ashes of our fire and tucked the last of her knives into the third log. She sealed it with one of the wooden caps Maz had whittled for each hollow log. Now they looked like all the others floating toward the mine.
Maz and I carried them to a low, grassy bank along the river, away from the eyes of the fort.
We spoke little, focused on our tasks. But the air was crackling with tension.
I could see the way it darkened Maz’s eyes and danced in Kiera’s fingers. It lived in my jaw and my chest.
So much hinged on this going right. Plans built on spindly twigs that could collapse everything we hoped for.
And now I had Henry and his men to worry about.
I’d liked the captain well enough. He’d seemed as Kiera said—honorable and in love with her sister.
But it didn’t sit well with me to place so much trust in a stranger so quickly. Until I’d looked at Kiera’s hopeful eyes and grateful smile . . . and taken the leap.
“Done,” Maz announced, dusting his hands on his pants. He stared at the wide, deep river. “Think it’ll work?”
I also gazed at the rushing water. We’d chosen a place along the bank that seemed the easiest to swim to, but one never knew with currents. All I could think about was Kiera trying to swim through it.
“It’d better,” I said. “It’s the only way we’re getting on a shipment.”
Dawn rose in molten orange over the eastern horizon, glowing like the forge we meant to destroy.
Maz grasped my shoulder. “Before we go, I just wanted to say I’m proud of you.”
I frowned at him. “For what?”
“For finally owning up to who you are. You’ve been burying that shit since we met.”
“With good reason.”
Maz fixed me with a hard stare. “Why? Because you’ve faced defeat from time to time?
You’ve been a rebel, a prisoner, a spy, an assassin, but you’ve always been a king, Aiden.
A good king fights for the wellbeing of his people, which you’ve always done.
A better king owns up to his mistakes and still tries to make the better choice.
” He poked me in the chest. “That’s you, brother. ”
Something deep in my soul twinged. It’d been waking for days, a long-buried hope. A raw desire caged by fear.
I clapped Maz on the back. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”
“I know,” he said with a brief grin. “But only because you saved me from that mine. I’m with you to the end. Your Highness.”
I chuckled, some of the earlier tension waning, and shoved him away. “If you ever call me that again, I’ll use you for target practice.”
He guffawed, then turned serious again, his eyes on the horizon.
“We’ll get there in time, Maz,” I said. “Your family will be safe, and you will get to go home soon. For good, this time.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I’ve already lost half my family. I don’t relish losing more. Will you . . . will you watch over them if I die?”
I frowned. “Of course. But this isn’t goodbye, Maz.”
“And it never will be.”
We trudged back to the dismantled campsite to find Henry and his two men standing with Kiera.
Shayn—her ex-lover, judging from the earlier discomfort between them—stood closer than necessary to her, talking enthusiastically about something.
I ground my teeth together, a hot, sickly feeling stirring in my stomach.
“Easy, brother,” Maz muttered under his breath. “Don’t kill him before he helps us.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I growled, stalking up to the group.
I didn’t care about the red-haired soldier. I’d probably never see him again after this. He certainly hadn’t seemed to care about Kiera last night. Saying he should’ve known better than to get involved with her.
Kiera was worth far more than his sullen regret.
“Got everything?” I demanded.
Henry faced me, the sun of his captain’s badge glimmering in the dawn. “Yes. We have a shipment ready. Just meet it downriver within the hour. Here, I brought these.” He pointed to a pile of dirty, threadbare clothes. “Shayn will put the shackles on once you board.”
I forced myself not to flinch. It was my least favorite part of this plan. But we had to make it look real for any patrols and checkpoints.
“This is where I leave you,” Henry continued. “With any goodwill of the Four, I’ll see you in Aquinon, Falcryn.”
I shook his outstretched hand. “Thank you for this. And your alliance.”
He nodded and moved on to say a quiet goodbye to Kiera.
Within moments, they disappeared again.
We stared at the wispy pile of clothing.
“At least impersonating a Shadow-Wolf had better clothes and weapons,” Maz said mournfully.
It would take about five or six days to get to Calimber, and we were going to spend every one of them wet and cold and shackled.
For Rellmira.
I snatched what could laughably be called a shirt and trousers.
“Boots?” Kiera asked, running her finger over the yellow stitching on her shirt as if reluctant to part with it.
“We can’t.” I stripped mine off. “None of the prisoners wore shoes.”
“Makes it harder for them to run off, I suppose,” she said bitterly. “I’ll have to strap Mother’s knife to my leg when we get to the mine.”
Maz grabbed another set of men’s clothes and patted Kiera’s shoulder. “Better than between your ass cheeks, lovely. Someday, I’ll tell you the story of how Aiden and I escaped Calimber.”
Kiera wrinkled her nose and selected her own clothes.
The three of us stood staring at each other.
“Bit of a memory, isn’t it?” Maz said with a forced grin. “When I freed you two from the Den?”
Kiera’s lips twitched. “We helped.”
“A bit.” He waved his finger in a circle. “Shall we all turn around again, or just me, since the two of you have already seen each other naked?”
Kiera’s cheeks reddened. A memory of her smooth, naked body against mine sent a rush of desire through me.
“Not the time, Mazkull,” I growled and pivoted my back to them.
I yanked off my shirt and pants and put on the prisoner’s garb. The pants fell just above my ankle. The shirt collar was torn at the front, revealing my chest. The thin material let in every breath of breeze and smelled of a dozen campfires.
“Done,” Kiera called out softly.
“Same,” Maz said.
I turned just as they did. My jaw clenched.
Kiera’s curved torso was clearly visible beneath the threadbare shirt. Her breast band offered little protection from leering eyes. I was staring, too, but the cruel supervisors in the mine would likely have far worse intentions.
“Where will you hide the keys?” I rasped. “You have no pockets.”
Kiera crossed her arms in front of her chest, dislodging my gaze. “Between my cheeks, if I must,” she quipped.
Maz snorted.
I nearly bit my tongue in half to keep from telling her to stay back.
“This is the only instance I’m glad they have Dag prisoners,” Maz grumbled, picking at his shirt.
I’d left him the larger one, but it still clung to him like a second skin. His tattoos were visible, as my falcon one likely was. But for once, no one would care. We were just two more prisoners.
A moment later, Nikella and Ruru rejoined us. Nikella dropped a bulging sack on the ground.
“Where’s your cloak?” I asked.
“Left it with the horses,” Nikella said, her eyes not meeting mine.
She looked strange without her long hood. But we would get it back. This wasn’t goodbye.
She and Ruru grabbed their prisoner disguises and changed behind trees. Then we stuffed our old clothing into the sack. Nikella cinched it shut and hid it behind a nearby bush.
“We should go,” I said, my voice hoarse and uneven. Whatever happens, I’m proud to have known and fought with each of you.
All four of them looked at me, silent understanding in their eyes.
We walked away from the campsite. My callused feet didn’t mind the thick, rough grass. But the cold dew that wet my skin sent a shiver down my spine. The Medria was going to be even colder.
We hid in the tall grass by our logs. We didn’t have to wait long for a log raft to nose its way around the river bend. Four prisoners struggled to paddle while a soldier in a glistening helmet stood in the middle.
I held my breath until I recognized the red hair curling out from under the helmet.
“Shayn,” Kiera whispered.
I waited until the raft was closer, then I stood and whistled. The prisoners stared at me with wide eyes. Three men and one woman. Gaunt and starved of hope.
“Bring the raft to him,” Shayn ordered.
They hastily obeyed.
Maz and I leaned out and tugged the raft to our bank. Shayn was already kneeling by the woman’s feet and unshackling her.
Kiera gestured to her. “Come. You’re free to go.”
The woman’s eyes filled with tears, and she clasped hands with Kiera, who pulled her onto the bank. “Th-Thank you. Thank you,” she kept murmuring over and over.
“You’ll find some clothes a short walk that way.” Kiera pointed toward our old campsite.
“And some food,” Nikella added.
Maz and I helped the other three prisoners off the raft and gave them the same directions. I watched them disappear, that stubborn seed of hope growing in my chest.
“Four down, only a few hundred to go,” Kiera said.
I smiled down at her. “Easy.”
Shayn helped us lash our three logs onto the raft with thick leather straps and buckles. Then he snapped the hated metal cuffs around our ankles, using an extra set he pulled out of his pack for me.
Unease slithered back into my veins as I stared at the chain connecting them. A prisoner once more. Perhaps I was always doomed to die as one.
I shook myself. No. You won’t die. You won’t let them die. You are free. You are free.
But the words were like a weak dam fighting against a mighty river.
We took up our paddles and awkwardly maneuvered our larger raft back into the current.
What followed was a sort of fever dream. Always cold. Always wet. Always wearing the gods-damned shackles. Steering the raft east, yet Calimber never seemed to get closer.
We talked little, miserable as we were. We stopped even less. Shayn handed out the hard bread and dried meat the fortress had allotted him. Sleep . . . sleep passed me by like the never-ending river.
We encountered a checkpoint two days into our journey. The soldiers on the wooden bridge lowered a barrier until Shayn hopped off the raft and handed over his paperwork. The soldiers scrutinized him and the paper and peered at each of us.
“This says three male and one female prisoner,” one soldier said.
Kiera tensed next to me, and I clenched my oar, ready to use it as a poor weapon if necessary.
Shayn shrugged. “The girl was causing trouble, so I took her off the fort’s hands.”
The soldier stared at Kiera for a moment longer, something unpleasant in his gaze. But then he returned Shayn’s paperwork. “The mine will beat that trouble right out of her. Off you get.”
The soldiers raised the barrier and waved us forward. I forced my quivering muscles to relax.
Gods, I hoped that was the worst of it.
As each day brought us closer to Calimber, the number of patrols along the river increased. They shouted to Shayn, who answered their questions with ease. Whatever the man’s faults, I was glad Henry had chosen him for this.
Nikella ducked her head every time one of the patrols passed. But they never examined us too closely.
We came to another checkpoint two nights later. Once again, they lowered the gate, and Shayn disembarked, papers in hand.
The rest of us waited, huddled together for warmth, grateful for the break.
Angry voices rose beyond the torchlight on the bridge.
“Problem?” Maz asked hoarsely.
I slowly stood, the cold metal around my ankles rasping against my skin.
Shayn stood with a few other soldiers, waving his arms and talking loudly. They argued back, pointing emphatically toward the raft.
Gods damn it. I sank down. “Something’s wrong,” I muttered.
“Fucking Four.” Maz grasped his oar with blue-tinged fingers.
Kiera’s shivering body pressed into me. I wrapped one arm around her, giving her what little warmth I had left. Ruru huddled against her other side, his wide eyes on the bridge above us.
Footsteps tromped overhead, and two soldiers came down the bank with long, hooked poles. My chest seized as they stabbed the logs and dragged us up the sloping shore.
I heard a small splash behind me, but I was too busy searching for Shayn. Surely he hadn’t betrayed us? Abandoned us?
I didn’t see him. But I did see a figure who made my blood run ice cold.
Long, greasy, dark hair. Dead black eyes. A triumphant smile.
Korvin had found us.