Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(51)

“You’re telling me the story your papa told the king.”

Shaking my head, I form a protest on my tongue just as she continues. “Your father and Millner worked together long before the king and his inner circle closed the border. After the drought and the old king’s death, people were afraid. They were convinced Shaerdan was the cause. Aodren was a wee thing, so his inner court took over and the king regent stepped in to lead. Channelers were hunted, and the border was closed.

“Millner was the only member of the inner court who disagreed. He refused to hang the Channeler women who were brought in. Eventually, he spoke out. That’s when guards were sent after Millner, and his family was tortured and killed.

“Your father helped him escape—”

“That is a lie,” I cut her off.

“Settle your feathers, girl.” Enat’s gnarled knuckle taps the table. “Millner’s escape shamed the kingdom because he turned a lot of heads. People questioned the new laws, and many fled the country.”

“But if my father helped Millner, why would he then hunt the Archtraitor’s followers?”

“He didn’t. Some he helped escape. He would guide them to Millner. Your father only hunted criminals who deserved to be hauled back to Malam.”

I run my fingers over the table’s ridges while my mind is caught on the bodies that hung beside the river near the border.

“What about the guards who often traveled with Papa?” I ask. Surely they would’ve known Papa was meeting the Archtraitor.

“You do not give your father enough credit.”

She’s right. Papa was crafty. He taught as much to Cohen and me. The trait was a necessity to maintain his position as the king’s bounty hunter.

This room is too small, too tight. I need to leave. I want to shoot arrows until I cannot move my arms. I want to run. I want Papa to come back and explain why he never told me any of this. Why I’m sifting through stacks of secrets when he once claimed we had no secrets between us.

“Millner’s eyes and ears are the shadows of Celize,” Enat says. “The man deals in secrets like you hunt game. The only problem is he’s quite unapproachable.”

“More than you?”

She snorts. “Perhaps not. Though after your father was killed, Millner practically holed up in a cave and hasn’t come out since.” She goes on to explain that we’ll have to contact another man who will then talk to the Archtraitor. If Millner is willing, he’ll then meet us at a specified date and time.

It feels like a step back, before we’ve had a chance to take a step forward.

Or maybe it seems that way because of Papa’s deception. Because the little I had in my life isn’t what I thought it was.



The forest is darker than the ash in Enat’s hearth. A crack of thunder shakes her small home, and the soft patter of rain echoes through the window. She offers for us to stay the night, and we gladly agree.

Enat places two blankets on the table and then hands a bar of soap and a rag to Cohen. “The storm isn’t bad yet, so you should wash up now. Walk past the outhouse a dozen paces and you’ll come to a well. The water’s warm.”

“Warm?” Cohen’s question mirrors my surprise. Another enchantment, perhaps, like the cave tree?

“A hot spring flows beneath this land on the south side. I have two wells. One for warm bathing water, and another, on the north side, for drinking and cooking. Take the lantern beside the door. These woods get awfully dark.”

Cohen thanks her and leaves.

I move to take the blankets from the table and set them on the floor for Cohen and me. We brought in our belongings earlier, so I shift my pack beside one blanket to rest my head on later.

“You need anything else?” Enat asks.

“No,” I tell her, not wanting to take any more than necessary. The blankets and the roof over our heads are more than we expected from her.

She eyes the bedding and then leaves, going through the doorway into her room.

The box of letters remains on the table. When she doesn’t return, I take out a few and read the lines once more. The shock from earlier is gone; a hollow ache has taken its place. Papa was all I had. How did I not know any of this? Why didn’t he tell me? I would’ve never betrayed his secret.

“I bet you’d kill to have one of those wells in Brentyn in the winter.” Cohen’s voice pulls me back. I quickly put the letters away and spin around and—?

A drop of water clings to a dark brown lock of hair that frames his scarred cheek—?his newly shaven cheek. I haven’t seen him without scruff or a beard since he was fourteen. He does not look fourteen anymore.

“There’s a washtub in here, Britta.” Enat interrupts from the bedroom doorway. For the second time in a few short moments, I wake from a trance. “Storm’s picking up. You’ll be more comfortable cleaning up inside.”

“Really, I’m fine,” I say. “You’ve already offered to let us stay. This is too much. I’m fine going outdoors, and I’ve never shied away from a storm.”

“You got so much dirt and crust on you, it’s gonna take a soaking to get off.” She points at my mud-stained clothing. My protests die when she insists. She has a point. I look better fitted to spend the night in a pigpen, so perhaps a long soak is best.