Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(84)

“Please. Please let me help you.”

The tiniest movement of her head shows her disagreement.

“No, Enat!” A sob crawls out of my chest. “You’re all I have left.”

Her free hand lifts, ever so slowly, swaying until landing on my face. It’s a miracle she can move at all. Her energy is but the last clinging seed on a cottony dandelion. I want to tell her not to move. To hold still. But her lips part, and I can see she’s trying to say something, so I am motionless for the both of us, my heart blackening and breaking and crumbling inside me.

Pain and regret swell in her cerulean eyes.

Her lips make a weak movement. “Love . . . you.”

“I love you,” I say, frantic for her to hear me as a final breath escapes and her stained hand falls to the ground.

“No!” A keening, high-pitched and tormented, resonates from deep within me as I clutch her body to mine. The color of her skin turns ashen, and her lips pale to white. The life force that once made her vibrant is gone, and in my arms is the husk of my grandmother.

“No, no, no, no . . .”

Captain Omar’s bow lies at his side as he watches us. Red, red, red, covers me because of him. I hate him. He took my father’s life and has now assisted in stealing Enat’s. The anger and pain inside me morph into something blackish and terrible that makes me want to slay more than just one man today.

I seize Enat’s sword and lurch to my feet in the blink of an eye.

“You murderer!” I scream at him as I rush to attack.

Pain explodes in the back of my head, and then I’m tripping forward with the weight of the sword. Lights dim and the leaf-littered ground rushes upward.



The ground is rocking, and I think I’m going to be sick. The blackness spins and twirls me around mercilessly. I roll to my side and vomit.

“Rest,” someone says.

“Clean her up,” another orders.

Voices echo like they’re spoken through a pane of glass. I’m too exhausted to care. I let the darkness steal me away.





Chapter

37


WHEN I WAKE, MY FACE IS PRESSED against a cold stone floor, and a thick stench of piss and dung assaults my nose. Ah, the dungeon. I gag and then groan, as there’s nothing left inside to retch. Couldn’t they have simply killed me?

A dull pain pounds in my skull as I push off the ground and sit upright. I reach back, gingerly touching hair matted with blood.

I’ve no recollection of how I got here or why my body aches like a horse has trampled it. All I remember is Enat and then nothing.

In the weak dungeon light, I stare down at my soiled clothes. Dried blood—?Enat’s blood. Her death replays in my mind, and grief floods out of me in sobs that rack my entire body.

I only just found Enat. Just discovered she’s my grandmother. Two weeks ago I stood in her home and argued about going on this trip. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s gone. She only came to Malam because I asked. How foolish of me to think I could save the king. Or stop a war. That I could finish my father’s work. Or help Finn. How could I have been so arrogant?

Ignoring a bowl of food that’s been placed beside me, I grab the cup of water and sip it down over my ravaged throat. I cinch my ruined shirt tight to my body and hug my knees, welcoming the solitude of the dungeon.



Someone’s touching me, putting cool pressure on my forehead. I thrash awake to find Leif crouched in front of me, holding a bucket of water and a rag. The sight of his uniform hits me with an unbidden vision of Tomas swinging a sword at Enat. I flinch and scramble back against the stone floor to the dank corner.

“Britta, I’m sorry about . . . about what happened,” he says mutedly. “It wasn’t my intention. I was following orders, and if I’d known . . .” He drops his chin. “I would have done something, Britta. I’m sorry.”

I don’t care a whit about his intentions. “How long—?”

“A day is all. You slept for most of it.” I wasn’t going to ask how long I’ve been here. I meant to ask how long before they hang me.

He holds a cup for me to take.

“We’re alone,” he says while I drink. I glance up in question. “The dungeon master is a friend. He’s allowed us a moment to talk.”

I’m sitting in this rotting hell waiting for my name to be called so they can march me out to the yard and hang me. What’s left to talk about? I ignore him.

Leif looks over his shoulder, then back to me. “Do not give up,” he says pleadingly.

“You should leave,” I croak over a gritty throat.

He stands. “Your time is short, Britta. Is this how things will end for you? Is this what you want? Or what she would’ve wanted?”

“What do you know of her?” I stare at him stonily. He has no right to talk to me about Enat.

“I know you loved her,” he says, and I turn away, needing the darkness to dull my pain. “Life hasn’t been easy for you. But there are people who care for you and are willing to help. You’re a fighter, Britta. That’s why I let you go in Celize. I knew you would find your father’s killer and make this situation right. Don’t give up now.”

I rest my chin on my arms and stare blindly into the shadows that echo with moans and clanks until Leif leaves.