Spin the Dawn(90)

“Not the ghosts.” I wavered. “But the demon…touched me…just before I stabbed him.”

Edan pushed aside my hair. Whatever he saw on my neck made his jaw tighten. “Damn it! We need to get you as far from the islands as possible.” He pushed me toward the horses and lifted me onto Rook’s saddle before I could protest.

Dazedly, I leaned forward. “I thought we were out of danger.”

“Not far enough.” He leapt behind me onto Rook. “It’ll be best if we stay off the Great Spice Road. I know a shortcut to the Autumn Palace.” He pressed two fingers to my pulse. “If you start to lose feeling in your limbs, tell me at once.”

I gulped. “All right.”

Thunder boomed above us, and a storm spilled from the sky in a relentless shower. Edan tucked my head under his chin, but rain still streamed down my cheeks. I pressed my ear against his chest, listening to his heart beat steadily against the counterpoint of Rook’s hooves.

We rode in the rain for hours. The horses galloped at a valiant pace, over hills and valleys, until we finally reached a canyon where the Leyang River curved through the walls like a ribbon. We had to stop for the horses to rest. Edan reined them into a shallow cavity in the rock, barely big enough to fit all of us. By the middle of the afternoon, the rain finally weakened, but I still heard it dribble down the cliffs.

“A-are my dresses in the trunks?” I asked, my lips moving even though I couldn’t feel them. I shivered. “They c-c-can’t g-get wet.”

“They’ll be all right.” Edan cupped my chin, sweeping rain from the side of my nose with his thumb. His own face was slick with rain, but he didn’t bother wiping the water from his eyes. “You will too. Just rest.”

“I can’t sleep,” I said. “My body feels stiff. Hurts to move.” My teeth chattered uncontrollably. “T-tell m-me what’s h-h-happening to me.”

Edan threw his cloak over me and I waited for him to explain. He seemed reluctant to.

“He has marked you,” he said. “It means he has a piece of your soul…and until he chooses to devour it, he can follow you.”

Even in my state, I knew that was very, very bad. “F-follow m-me where?”

“Anywhere,” Edan said woodenly.

The tingling reached my lips. “I thought…I thought I’d killed him.”

“Demons are difficult to kill.” Edan wouldn’t look at me. “I blame myself. I thought I would be enough to distract Bandur….” His voice trailed off, and he turned to me. “No harm will come to you. I swear it.”

The horses neighed, and Edan straightened, his body tense and alert.

I didn’t hear anything, other than that the rain had stopped. “What is it?”

A beat. Then Edan replied gravely, “We’re not alone.”

“B-b-bandits?”

Edan put a finger to his lips. “The shansen’s men. They must have been tracking us.”

“What do we do?”

Edan was already taking out his bow. “You do nothing. They’re not after you.” He threw a blanket over our trunks. “Go east. Get out of the forest as fast as you can. If anyone follows you, don’t hesitate to use the dagger as I taught you.”

I tried to protest, but Edan’s mind was made up. He lifted me onto Opal. “Hiyah!” he shouted, slapping her back.

Opal burst into a gallop, and I clung to her neck, my pulse racing unsteadily. I was so weak I couldn’t turn back to see Edan vanish into the canyon; simply holding on to my horse was a struggle enough.

I might never see him again, I realized. If he died, I wouldn’t know for days, maybe more. He’d be alone, like my brothers.

Whatever sense I had left begged me to keep going—what use was I to Edan like this? I’d only get in his way. But my heart overruled my jumbled thoughts, and I pulled back on the reins. Opal reared, her forelegs pawing the air.

With a cry, I fell off her back onto the slick road. I sprang to my feet, my knees barely holding me up. My vision was blurred, my body sweating from the fever. Where the demon had touched my neck, it burned hotter than before, but I endured the pain. I had to, if I was going to help Edan.

“Shhh,” I said, holding Opal’s cheek. “Stay here. You’ll be s-safe.”

I didn’t see anything, only an empty expanse of craggy, red-veined canyon. No soldiers. No mercenaries. No Edan.

My heart hammered as I reached for my dagger, then into my satchel for my scissors—just in case—stashing them in my boot. Edan had shown me how to slice a man’s throat, how to stab a man in the back—I tried to recall the lessons, fervently hoping I wouldn’t need them.

Armed, I rushed to catch up with Edan. The rain had stopped, but the ground was wet as I ran along the Leyang River.

I heard the soldiers before I saw them around a bend. Their horses snorted and neighed from across the river, and the soldiers’ armor clattered. They marched in a line that curved along the canyon floor, their iron shields and swords a stark contrast to the lush greenery. I gritted my teeth when I picked out Vachir among the men, riding a white stallion.

Crouching behind a tree, I scanned the area for Edan. He wasn’t far, and he was on my side of the river, directly facing them. I ran toward him.

“There’s quite a heavy price on your head, Lord Enchanter!” Vachir yelled. “You, sir, are going to the shansen. We’ll take the trunks, and the girl.”