Chapter 18
I pack a light bag with some lunch, water, and my one dull knife. I pull my rough cloak over my shoulders and head for the front gate.
The gate looms tall, huge and banded in black iron.
Stone towers rise on either side, though I can’t tell if anyone is watching.
At home, I couldn’t cross a courtyard without passing four guards, but here, I walk straight to the wicket door without meeting any security.
I lift the crossbar, swing it open, and step into the world outside.
The lord likes his privacy, indeed.
Beyond the gate, a single road stretches into a forest of dark pines.
I’ve never seen so many trees, scenting the air with resin.
The cold bites deeper out here than inside the walls, and the shadowed depths touch something primal in my chest. I am far from the center of this world, on the edges, where the wilderness can swallow me.
This is exactly why I need to get my bearings. There has to be a town or crossroads somewhere ahead, and it would be better to have an exit in mind than to try to find one in the moment of panic. I tighten my hold on my pack and start walking.
I pass no one. After an hour, I’ve still encountered no signposts, no clearings. If anything, it feels more wild. The road narrows to the width of a carriage, the forest closing in.
I pause at the side of the road and let my pack drop to the ground.
I’ve gotten stronger. I would have been nursing blistered feet and shaking legs if I’d tried to hike this far the day I left the palace.
But my upper back burns, a gnawing ache threading down my spine.
These days, it’s always there. I can’t get my body to relax.
Encountering Drina last night only made it worse.
The forest rustles around me. I roll my shoulders, and push on the knot at the base of my neck, trying to rub the tension away.
My thick cloak makes it harder to get the pressure I need.
My jaw pulses, my teeth clamped so tight my molars ache.
I force them apart, but that’s the most I can do. I can’t soften it.
A voice cuts through the quiet. “Didn’t we have an agreement, you and I?”
I whirl, heart knocking painfully against my sternum. Alaris sits astride a midnight horse, silhouetted against the cloudy sky. When did he get here? I should have heard the hooves approaching.
“I thought I was alone,” I stammer.
He tilts his head. “Do you only keep promises when there are no witnesses?”
“What promise?”
“I promised you I wouldn’t give you a reason to run. And you promised me you wouldn’t disappear.”
Oh, right. That. His dark eyes are fixed on me, steady and searching. There is no hint of the smile I’m used to seeing on his lips. Is he angry? “I didn’t disappear,” I say slowly.
One dark brow lifts. “Oh?”
I search my mind for an excuse. “A hawk with an injured wing flew this way.” I flap my hand weakly, a pitiful imitation of a wounded bird.
“Would any human be able to say where you had gone?”
“It would be clear I hadn’t disappeared when I returned in a few hours.
” Something about that eyebrow makes it hard to control my temper.
The number of times I’ve been blameless and bowed my head to criticism is countless, yet here I am, rising to defend myself, when I know he’s right.
“And who was I to tell? It’s not my fault you don’t even have guards at your gates. ”
“You think my security is lax?”
“If you mean to keep track of who is leaving, yes, it is.”
“Others know better than to go out wandering off the grounds on foot.”
“The hawk—”
“The hawk will be fine.” His deep voice is clipped, his tone definitive. “Out here, you might not be.”
I look back and forth, down the empty stretch of road. “I wasn’t going to get lost.”
He crosses his arms, leaning forward on the pommel. “What kind of hawk keeper spends so much time indoors that she would think the only thing that could happen to her in the woods is losing her way?”
“A hawk keeper who was very recently a governess.” I blush. “What should I worry about then?” I gesture at the forest. “Highwaymen? Thieves? If you have criminals waiting minutes from your castle, perhaps you’re the one spending a little too much time on indoor activities.”
Now he smirks. “You do seem to have a lot to say about my indoor activities.”
His emphasis on the last words makes it clear what type of activities those might be.
I scowl. “And you seem far too concerned with my activities in general.”
His horse shifts its weight restlessly. “I don’t want to see the newest member of my staff, who is also new to the shadoward reaches, dead.”
“Then what is the danger you allow to stalk your lands? Bears? Wolves? They might be better company.”
He swings down from his horse, the movement fluid and quick.
I recoil. I’ve gotten too comfortable arguing and went too far. I bow my head, tensing for the reprimand.
After a few moments of silence, I look up to see an outstretched hand.
“What?” I ask, startled.
His steady, fathomless eyes hold mine. “I can tell you aren’t the type to simply accept my words of warning. So I’ll show you instead.”
Curiosity pulls at me. Before I fully think through the wisdom of the action, I put my hand in his. His long, leather-clad fingers curve around mine.
He smiles. “Can’t say you were kidnapped this time.”
Why do I feel like I’m about to be kidnapped?
Suddenly I’m off my feet and in the saddle. Before I can get out a word of protest, he swings up behind me, and the horse takes off.
I’m thrown back against Alaris. This is not an ordinary horse. Its gait is long and level, but covers three times the ground it should, the trees blurring by. My legs squeeze as I try to get a grip on the slippery leather, but it’s Alaris’s arm and his body against my back that holds me in my seat.
The wind stings and makes my eyes water, so I turn away.
The arm around my waist shifts and a large hand shields my face.
Without sight, I can’t brace for what’s ahead, but I don’t need to.
I’m secure. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
Which leaves me with nothing to focus on but every point of connection between us.
With each hoofbeat, I feel his chest and hips moving against me.
I glance down between his fingers; his knees and thighs engulf mine.
I wish I hadn’t looked. Even when I close my eyes, the image is still there.
As quickly as the ride began, the horse slows to a stop. I can take a full breath for what feels like the first time in minutes. Alaris dismounts first, then grabs my waist and lifts me off like I weigh nothing. He sets me on my feet, the side of his mouth ticking up when my legs wobble.
“That is not a normal horse,” I scowl.
“Fastest in all the land.” He flashes a sly smile. “This way.”
I take another moment beside the midnight steed, trying to calm my flush. The unsteadiness in my legs is from the speed, and the heat still humming through me is from the adrenaline. Nothing to do with being pressed against him, with the ghost of his hand still over my eyes.
“Stay close, hawk keeper,” he calls over his shoulder.
I straighten up and stalk after him. If he is unaffected by sharing a horse, so am I.
I follow him off the trail and into the trees. Their canopy filters the light through deep, cool green needles. Branches snag at my cloak and brush my cheeks. The road disappears behind us. I’m about to ask how much farther when Alaris stops.
I step to one side of him and stare, trying to make sense of what’s in front of me.
At the edge of our toes, the forest changes. All the rich colors and rustling needles give way to a brittle landscape the color of bone. The soil transitions from rich loam to light ash. The trees are a lifeless, cracking gray, as if a flameless fire scorched through and dried them to husks.
From this spot onward, there is only silence and death.
I struggle to find my voice as realization dawns. “This is the wither, isn’t it?”
The deadly magic of the thanovarians, divinials of death and decay.
“You’ve heard of it?”
“I’ve heard it sometimes threatens border settlements.”
After the Incarnial Wars, Emperor Illio couldn’t kill the thanovarians, so he forced them to the freezing barrens, where only undying things would survive. My father has kept them beyond the borders ever since, with only minor incidents.
This doesn’t look like a minor incident.
“It doesn’t just impact the borders.” Beside me, Alaris surveys the lifeless expanse, his expression unreadable. “These patches appear at random. Anyone caught in them dies.”
I swallow, my gaze fixed on the landscape. “Do you lose people to it?”
“More and more every year.” He nods grimly. “Beyond a certain point, all the land is like this.”
We are squarely in Arastos. There should not be any lords of death working magic here. “Someone should tell the emperor.”
His eyes flick to me. “You think he doesn’t know?”
I open my mouth. Close it. The emperor isn’t one to let even the far reaches of his empire go unmonitored. Of course he must know.
Was this just another way of showing the shadoward provinces they were less than? Was this another punishment for the lack of loyalty of their forebears?
Or is it possible that even the half-divine emperor is afraid to come here and face the thanovarians who killed his incarnial father?
When I finally return my attention to Alaris, I find his eyes are on me. Before I can summon an excuse for my long silence, he exhales and returns his gaze to the destruction.
“I brought you here to make one thing clear,” he says, voice steady. “It’s not safe to wander outside the walls. If you want to leave, I’ll help you, but you must go a safe route. And you must go flameward.”
I swallow and nod. I stand in silence a few more moments, before Alaris beckons me to the road.
I stay quiet on the ride back, barely registering the contact between us.