33. Mare #2
Laws had always seemed so simple. People wed within their station to members of their race. I'd never questioned that.
Reese was a Solheart, and I was a mere Stormborn. We would never be allowed to be together, even without . . .
Without . . .
Reese pulled his hand back and stood abruptly. "We'll be leaving soon. Get some rest until then." He spun on his heel and strode away.
I gritted my teeth. He was right to leave.
But I wanted him to stay.
At the edge of my tent, he froze. A scream erupted nearby. It sounded like the haunting moans of the dying.
Reese bolted outside, and I struggled to my feet. Clutching my side, I limped after him.
Thin white birch trees rose in thick walls around us, and snow covered the silver grass. Three small tents gathered around the dwindling embers of a fire.
The scream had come from the tent to our right. Tripping over the snow, I slipped inside and bumped into Reese's back.
Liam was sitting up, face beaded with sweat. He looked up at me, but I couldn't see his eyes.
A dense fog obscured everything beneath.
"Are you alright?" Reese asked. "It sounded like you were being murdered in here."
"It felt like it," Liam panted. "I'd appreciate it if the audience filed out, though."
Screaming like that—I'd woken to it countless times as a child. Nearly every night, Liam had terrible nightmares. Nightmares that had him fleeing into my room and latching onto my arm.
In the pitch black, I'd seen the wrongness in his eyes.
Fog . . . it had appeared in Gwynford, too.
"Liam?" I asked quietly.
"I'm fine," he said harshly. "Or at least I will be, once I'm left in peace."
"Well.” Reese looked amused. "That's my cue to go kick Bláth. Solathair knows she never gets up on her own." He touched my shoulder. "You should be lying down, Sunshine."
Twisting knots of ivy wrapped around my heart as he left the tent. I wasn't willing to admit feeling jealous before, but now . . .
Not even I was clever enough to find an excuse for these feelings.
Fighting away the constricting envy, I focused on my brother. "You haven't had dreams like that in years."
"They've reared their ugly head recently," Liam muttered, smoothing out his raven hair. "Aren't you supposed to be lying down?"
"You never did say what happens in them."
Liam hesitated before answering. "A voice keeps telling me the 'debt must be repaid.' And . . . " He snapped his mouth shut. "And that's all."
"Did you borrow gold from someone?"
"You know I'd just steal coin if I needed it.” He shot to his feet and flipped open his bag. "Speaking of which."
Liam produced a bottle of wine and handed it to me. I ran a hand across the label; this was finely aged spiced wine.
"This is all you took?" I asked.
"Considering the general tried to kill you, I wish I'd stolen more." Liam shrugged. "We can celebrate . . . not being dead, I guess."
I managed a smile for him. "I'll be confiscating this. Thief."
Liam smiled, but he looked tired. As tired as I felt.
Limping outside, I sat on a rock and watched Reese tear down the tents and pack the horses.
I must have dozed off. An impression of the wine's cork dented my cheek when I started awake. Stars dotted the black sky—morning.
There wasn't an ounce of cheer to be had in the camp. Bláth wandered around, distracted. Reese hardly said a word to me as he helped me onto Lady's back and tied off the last of the saddlebags.
I watched the birch trees fly by as we rode east. Toward home.
My heart ached. I wanted this to be over. To be home. For the grief and pain to cease. To stop wondering if I'd done something wrong, or if Reese had realized the same thing I did.
That nothing could pass between us.
I tried to doze, but the saints hated me today. My mind bounced between everything I wanted to forget as we rode through the endless sea of trees.
After what felt like a lifetime, a clearing finally broke up the monotony. I raised my aching head and stared blankly at what awaited us.
Colorful tents and wagons littered the clearing, and a large stage was erected at its center. Actors and bards in bright, feathered garb congregated in the area, making camp.
"Hm.” Liam pulled the reins of his elk. "I was just thinking we could stand some levity. This seems a bit much, though."
"We're not stopping," Reese said, riding us forward.
"Aw.” Bláth pouted. "You're never any fun."
I eyed the theatre troupe as we rode past, wondering what they were doing here. Surely they knew what had befallen southern Muirashi?
Reese yanked the reins, pulling Lady to an abrupt stop as one of the troupe's members approached us.
She was stunning. Hair like fire tumbled around her shoulders, a match for her burning ruby eyes. A Lavaire-style gown draped her figure, stitched of deep burgundy fabric and tied with a beautifully embroidered belt. Its deep cleavage showed off her dark, tanned skin.
A loud snort drew my attention away from the red-haired woman. Bláth leaned around Liam, grinning. "What do we have here?"
The red-haired woman flashed Bláth a withering glare and turned back to me. "Welcome, travelers. Our hospitality will more than soothe your weary hearts."
Reese shifted behind me. "Brighid . . . what are you doing?"
This was the Lady Brighid that Bláth worked for?
Here, with a theatre troupe?
Brighid maintained eye contact with me. "What else? I'm here to meet the first female Paragon." Her smile vanished. "Someone just tried to kill you, did they not? I can promise you they won't be the last."
Liam stepped his elk closer to me. "Are you threatening us?"
"Far from it.” Brighid lifted her chin. "I've a proposition for you, Lady Mare Rohan. One that just might save your life."