Roar (Stormheart #1)(45)
Nova looked to the queen for help as two Locke soldiers surrounded her, but the woman was lost to the world, trapped by whatever horrors were trampling through her mind. Within moments, the Locke commander had dozens upon dozens of men leaping into action, including the Pavanian soldiers.
As Nova was led away to the palace, she was grateful the soldiers did not touch her. But it was only a small mercy as they kept their hands on their swords. Heart racing, she waited until they were inside the palace, and then reached into the pocket that held Aurora’s letter. She crumpled the paper in her fist, then slipped her hand free. With slow, measured breaths, she pulled on her magic, letting the heat flow through her hands.
If the soldiers noticed the smell of smoke, they did not react, as bit by bit the paper burned in her fist, and she allowed the ash to sprinkle onto the stone floor in her wake.
She would find another way to get word to the queen. First, she had to survive the prince.
*
Rora’s legs were stiff from the saddle, but she didn’t complain. She was too busy soaking up everything around her. The land, while still mostly flat, had become dotted with green hills. The road they’d taken from Pavan had become much more difficult to traverse a few hours past Death’s Spine. Ruined Road, the hunters called it. What once had been a long road of flat stones that led from Pavan to Taraanar was now pitted with holes or washed away altogether in places. The Rock made loud, metallic groans every time the wheels hit a patch of uneven road.
The farther they traveled, the more the wildlands lived up to their name. She’d been fascinated with every bird that flew overhead and the grazing deer that would stop and stare as they approached, and then lope off at a surprising speed. The Napatya River, which flowed down from the mountains north of Pavan and curved around part of the city, appeared shortly after their stop at Death’s Spine and ran nearly parallel with the road from then on, winding out of sight at times, only to come back into view a while later. An ominous feeling seemed to always hang in the air, but so far they had seen no hint of a storm.
They stopped for the evening on a flat swath of land between the Ruined Road and the river. The Napatya, named for the old goddess of rivers and lakes, was lined with trees, so Roar could not see the water, but she heard it rushing as they made camp.
Her hips and thighs twinged with pain as she slid off Honey’s back and led her to the river for a drink. It was darker under the canopy of trees, and insects hissed and trilled, filling up the night with sound. Honey ambled into the water until it covered her hooves and then bent to drink. Roar was contemplating wading into the cool water herself when Locke appeared beside her. He’d not spoken to her since their stop at Death’s Spine, but she’d caught him glaring more than once.
“Bait will care for your horse. It’s time for your first lesson.”
Bait popped up behind her and snatched Honey’s reins. He gave her a wide-eyed look and muttered, “Good luck.”
She sighed. “Okay. Teach me how to stay alive.”
“Follow me.” He started up the bank and out of the trees. When they passed the last line of branches, he began to run. She followed, but frowned when they passed the others making camp.
She held back her questions, knowing how they agitated him, and focused on keeping pace with his longer legs. She was relieved he stuck to the road. Twilight had cast their surroundings in eerie shadows. When his pace increased, she matched it. She was in decent shape from her occasional runs with Taven and his unit—her mother believed in being strong in both body and mind. An unexpected pang struck her at the thought of her guard. She knew how seriously Taven took her protection. He must have been out of his mind with worry. Perhaps she should have thought to leave him a note as well.
“What?” Locke barked, his eyes narrowed on her as he ran.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Tired already?” he prodded.
She was. Her thighs were screaming with the effort to move after riding all day, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She scoffed and said, “Hardly.”
He sped up again as if to test her, and she shoved down her pain to keep up. He frowned when she kept his pace without faltering. His eyes flicked to her arm. “Injury giving you trouble?”
“No. It was nothing.” When he kept staring at her, she rolled her eyes and answered, “I was thinking about someone I left back home.”
He stopped abruptly and spun to step in front of her. She barely managed to avoid crashing into him, and he was entirely too close as she struggled to catch her breath.
He said, “Tell me now if you can’t handle this.”
She lifted her chin. “I can handle anything you throw at me.”
“I meant all of this. Leaving your home. Leaving people you love.” He said the last word with his nose crinkled with derision. “If we need to turn around, tell me now. Because if we spend a week on the road and then suddenly you’re consumed with grief, you’ll have to find your own way home.”
“You would leave me to the wilds by myself?”
He ground his teeth together, breath coming in heavy pants, but did not reply.
“I won’t change my mind,” Rora said. Her heartbeat was a rapid drum, but she did not know how much of that was exertion and how much was anger. “Pavan was my home. Everything and everyone I know is there. But that doesn’t change why I’m here with you, with Duke. I’m sure you missed home at first too.”