Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(4)

“We have bigger problems than your squabbling.” I eye the bridge. “We’re still blocked, and anyone who could have helped us move the trunk is unconscious, dead, or run off. Is there another way around?”

“Yes,” Petrik says, “but it will add a half day’s journey.”

I want to sob. The timing is too close as it is. The healer back in Amanor said we had only a week before Temra would die from her wounds.

The exact time it takes to reach the capital.

Rage as I have never known floods my limbs as I haul myself back into the cart. I pull my unmagicked hammer from my waist and swing it toward Kymora’s good leg.

The crack is sharp. Kymora’s shriek is muted behind her replaced gag. Petrik’s intake of breath and Kellyn’s look of horror fill me with guilt, but—“A promise is a promise,” I utter.

She won’t be escaping again.





CHAPTER TWO


We travel all night to make up for lost time.

The road is awful, full of ruts and holes, but we don’t feel the worst of it. Before we left Kellyn’s hometown, I magicked the metal beneath the cart to provide Temra as smooth of a journey as possible.

Still, I don’t sleep, not with Temra’s constant coughing, Kymora’s moaning, the crack of Kellyn’s neck every time he looks over his shoulder to check on me.

I want to scream at him, to rage at everyone. They should all hurt the way I hurt right now. My body is in some weird state of exhaustion and extra alertness. I take to counting my sister’s breaths to pass the time.

When a body moves, I raise a fist, worried that Kymora has somehow broken free again, but it is only Petrik, climbing into the cart bed next to me.

“You should rest,” he says. “Let me watch over her.”

“Thank you, but I’m okay.”

“If there’s another fight, you’ll be more useful after some sleep.”

I think the exhaustion is what compels my honesty. “I’m afraid she’ll die if I close my eyes.”

“She’s tougher than that,” Petrik says, all confidence.

It’s so nice to hear, even if he has no way of knowing for sure what Temra’s body is equipped to handle. He’s a well-learned man but not in medicine. Petrik is a scholar from the Great Library in Skiro’s Capital, and he’s spent his life studying ancient magics. I met him initially because he was writing a book on known magics throughout the world. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about me and my blacksmithing abilities.

Along that first journey we took together, he fell in love with my sister. He’s never said as much, but I can tell. How can anyone not fall for my brave and feisty sister? She’s strong and stubborn in all the right ways.

When we learned that Petrik hid the truth about Kymora being his mother, Temra was furious. Personally, I don’t much care so long as he gets us the help we need. His words from before were true. He’s never betrayed us or done anything to suggest we can’t trust him. He just kept one secret.

Who wouldn’t want to hide the fact they’re related to this monster?

But monster or no, she’s still his mother.

I whisper, “I’m sorry I hurt her like that in front of you.”

Petrik swallows. “It had to be done. We can’t risk being slowed down again.”

“I wasn’t being spiteful; I told her I would do it if she—”

“It’s okay, Ziva. Really.”

His dark eyes sweep over Temra’s face, her mahogany hair, her bow-shaped lips, her unblemished face—all barely visible in the moonlight. “She hasn’t gotten a chance to yell at me for the secret I kept. She needs to do that. To tell me she doesn’t want to hear my excuses. She’ll want to throw things at me.”

I let out a weak laugh to keep from crying. “She will. All of that will happen. Have you been working on the explanation you’ll give her?”

He shakes his head. “I have no explanation. Only the truth. I was scared you would not let me come if you knew who I was. There are some who would not believe I don’t have any warm feelings toward her.” At that, he flicks his gaze in Kellyn’s direction.

“I know why you did what you did,” I say. “I don’t hold it against you.”

“You are a good friend, Ziva, and an even better sister.”

“I failed her.”

“You haven’t. You’re still fighting. We will reach the capital. Temra will be healed. Our names will be cleared, and Kymora will get the fate she deserves for her treachery.”

I want to believe him so badly, but horrible scenarios flash through my mind in a loop and carry into my dreams.



* * *



It’s the stillness that wakes me.

The cart has stopped. I immediately check on Temra, even as I call out, “Why aren’t we moving?”

“The horses need a break,” Kellyn says. “If we push them anymore, they’ll give out before we can reach the capital.”

He’s pulled us off the road, and Kellyn already is in the process of unhitching the horses. Petrik leaves with his pack, likely off to prepare food.

That leaves me with Kymora and Temra.

I swear the warlord never sleeps. Every time I look over at her, she’s perfectly alert. Her eyes rove over the scenery, our camp, searching for any opportunities to escape.