Chapter Eight Samira
EIGHT SAMIRA
Sitting in the saddle somehow hurt more today than yesterday. My backside ached with every step the horse took.
Keir had awoken me with the threat that he was “feeling peckish” and I had better get on his horse before he decided to have a little breakfast. I guessed that meant the quiet, somber man from last night was gone, replaced by the mocking creature that had mauled five guards to death.
I spent the ride thinking about what yesterday’s interactions had actually revealed. They didn’t want me to smell of fear, and they wanted to make sure I was fed, which meant that despite Keir’s threats, they intended to bring me to their king in one piece. But I hadn’t been able to figure out why.
I needed to know. If I knew, I could prepare for it.
I could make my prayers more specific when I asked Ketet to guard me against the pain.
I wouldn’t run from it; this was my duty to see through, a duty given to me by my queen.
I let that thought buoy me, fill me with righteousness and courage. I would not fail the Gods-Chosen.
Clearing my throat, I turned awkwardly in the saddle. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
Keir snorted without taking his eyes off the road. “No, you’re not.”
I’d forgotten how strong his sense of smell was. He could probably smell the lie in my words. “He tore out a man’s throat,” I said by way of explanation.
“After we were attacked. You don’t see me offering fake condolences for killing your guards.”
Like a roll of thunder, I heard the men’s screams as they were ripped apart. “No one should have died.” That was the truth.
He grunted and then tapped his fingers against my hip. “Face forward.”
I obeyed, licking my lips nervously as I racked my brain for something else to say. But we didn’t make small talk in the palace; we barely spoke at all.
Queen Amunet picked the wrong person.
But I was here now. I was all my queen had. I was all I had.
“What does your king want with me?”
“Is that a joke?” I chanced a look over my shoulder to see that Keir had cocked an eyebrow at me. I wasn’t sure if he meant it was a joke to think he would tell me or a joke that I didn’t already know. If Queen Amunet knew, then I’d just royally screwed up.
Although Keir didn’t look like he was about to chuck me out of the saddle…
Better not to risk it and change the subject. “Where are we going?”
“Lots of questions today, Majesty. Live through a single night and you’re suddenly far too comfortable.” He leaned forward so his lips were right beside my ear. “If you’re looking for the weakest link, I can promise you it isn’t me. Or any of the Seven.”
My eyes flicked up to the group of Kaldfolk flanking us: Velka, Sillia, Bain, Dalla, and Cano.
With Keir and Alarik, that made seven. But he said the number like a title.
They were important. King Rade had sent important people to retrieve the Gods-Chosen.
The Kaldfolk might be battle-crazed beasts, but they clearly had the ability to strategize.
“I’m not looking for a weak link,” I told him. “Just answers.”
He chuckled, his breath tickling the side of my neck. “How about this: Beg me for answers, Majesty, and maybe I’ll give you some.”
I didn’t even hesitate. I twisted as far in my seat as I could manage, my knee pressing uncomfortably into his. I moved so fast I startled him, and he jerked back. “Please,” I said. “Please tell me what you’re going to do with me. Please.”
The snark faded from his piercing yellow eyes as his brows pulled together and he scanned every inch of my face.
Maybe I should have shown a bit of dignity.
Queen Amunet would’ve certainly had more pride than that.
As far as I knew, she’d never begged for anything in her life.
Maybe that alone would be enough to prove my false identity.
But I needed to know how I was going to die.
Keir’s nostrils flared, scenting me. Searching for trickery or lies.
But as I watched, his bright yellow irises darkened to a deep gold.
With the kohl painted around them and stretching over his forehead, it gave the illusion of two suns shining out of a night sky. Peculiar and hard to look away from.
“Keir,” Sillia called, and he ripped his eyes from mine. She lifted her hand and pointed, her fur cloak falling away to reveal a bare arm corded in muscle. “The bridge is up ahead.”
“Right.” Keir blew out a sharp breath through his nose, as if ridding himself of an odor, and shook his head roughly. “You and Velka first, then me, then the rest. Single file.”
Sillia nodded and kicked her horse into a quicker trot, taking the lead.
I tried one more time. “Please, Keir.”
But he just tugged my chain. “Face forward.”
Reluctantly, I turned around, my heart sinking lower than before. I felt as if I’d failed some sort of test, for both my queen and the Kald.
Ahead of us, the icy land just—stopped. Dropped off dramatically, a deep chasm stretching between this side and where the earth picked up yards away.
The only thing connecting the two was a narrow strip of stone, curved like an archer’s bow.
It looked as if it were defying gravity, like a collection of rock that should have fallen with the rest of the earth to the abyss below.
We were going to cross that?
Sillia walked her horse onto the death trap without hesitation, but Velka paused behind her. She glanced at me. “We have an extra horse,” she offered. “We could tie her to mine. She won’t go anywhere and it’ll be better weight distribution.”
“She weighs nearly nothing,” Keir replied. “We’ll be fine.”
Velka looked like she wanted to argue further, but she just gave a deferential nod and urged her horse forward, behind Sillia.
Keir followed, pausing just before we stepped onto it. “Don’t look down.” As soon as he said the words, I couldn’t help but glance over the lip of the cliff.
It plunged hundreds of feet to a bottom filled with boulders and tree roots. My gut twisted. I didn’t have a problem with heights, but nothing about this looked safe. If we fell—or if I was pushed—I’d be dead instantly. Though perhaps it would be a better fate than whatever awaited me with Rade.
Keir chuckled. “I warned you. Now try not to move too much.” His arm tightened around my waist, holding me firmly in place.
My sensitive back gave an angry throb, but I didn’t bother trying to readjust myself.
I wrapped my fingers around the pommel of the saddle, strangling it, as Velka and Sillia disappeared over the hump.
Keir clicked his tongue, and then our horse was stepping onto the frail bridge.
The moment our weight was added, pebbles along the edges broke off and plummeted to the ground below. I stopped breathing, as if the added weight of oxygen would be what sent us tumbling after those pebbles.
Part of me wanted to squeeze my eyes shut until it was over, but my body refused to obey. I couldn’t stop staring at the unstable ground of the bridge. At a sudden crack, my body jolted. A fissure slithered open alongside us. I gasped, my heart a deafening drum in my ears.
“We’re not cannibals.”
The random statement drew my focus away from the death that stalked us. “What?”
“I said I’d give you an answer if you begged. That’s the one I’m giving you. We’re not cannibals. Never have been, don’t really plan to be in the future.”
And then it was over. Our saddle’s rocking gentled as our horse reached solid ground. The bridge was behind us. Velka and Sillia walked calmly ahead of us, as if we hadn’t all just risked our lives. I craned my neck to look at Keir.
His expression was as unbothered as Velka’s and Sillia’s, despite the arm still clenched tightly around my midsection.
He shrugged. “Then again, maybe I’m lying.
I guess there’s really no way for you to know.
Until it’s too late.” He grinned and flicked the horse’s reins, not stopping to see if the rest of his people made it over the bridge.
Knowing they would. Only when we were a good distance away did he finally remove his arm from my waist.
Of course Keir was lying. There were three things I knew for sure about the Kaldfolk—they were shape-shifters, they were cannibals, and they were heretics.
If Keir was trying to lull me into a false sense of security, he would not succeed.
As long as I was with the Kaldfolk, I would remain braced for death or worse.
His assurances on the bridge were just part of his twisted sense of entertainment.
Because he was twisted. They all were.
And I was willing to bet King Rade would be the worst of them all.