Blood Heir (Blood Heir Trilogy #1)(96)
Dimly, she heard a thump as the Windwraith hit the floor. The barest whimper escaped the girl’s throat, her face shadowed with whatever nightmares haunted her.
Sadov inched toward them, clutching his side from the blow the Windwraith had dealt him. He raised a hand, and moonlight lanced off the blade he held.
He was going to kill the girl.
Ana threw herself in front of the Windwraith. Sadov paused, hesitation flashing in his eyes. “Get out of the way,” he snarled, “or I’ll kill you both.”
The slightest of movements behind her, and suddenly, wind blasted across the carriage, throwing Sadov to the floor. Ana reached out for something to hold on to, but the Windwraith’s arms were already wrapped tightly around her center.
They held each other as the squall around them rose to a scream, slamming Sadov against the carriage door. Another blast and the door flew open, and Sadov tumbled out of sight.
The wind died; the world quieted.
Ana untangled herself from the Windwraith, her heart still racing. She looked to the other girl, who had picked herself up without a sound. Tears streaked her face, and she clutched the wall with one hand, a dagger in the other as her chest hitched with small, shallow breaths.
“Are you all right?” Ana asked, her gaze fixing back on the open door. Beyond, the forest stretched out in alternating patterns of shadow and moonlight.
“Yes.” Her voice was as faint as a breath of air. “Who is he?”
“It’s a long story.” Ana bent to pick up a shard of glass, holding it like a weapon. “We need to go after him. Can you move?”
The girl gave a swift nod. Her steps were light, like the rustle of a small bird’s wings, as she darted past Ana and hopped out the carriage door. Ana followed.
Her feet landed in soft, freshly fallen snow. Outside, the six guards that had ridden with the carriage lay dead, glassy-eyed beneath the shifting treetops. Dull metal blades protruded from their necks and chests. The snowfall had stopped and the skies had cleared, showing a bright moon and a blur of stars dotting the midnight sky. Sadov was nowhere to be seen.
The Windwraith pointed. A trail of footsteps led away from the carriage, into the darkness of the trees beyond. “I can go after him. He can’t be far.”
Ana closed her eyes. If she could just use her Affinity to sense where Sadov was right now…
But the Deys’voshk had already fully worked its way through her system, and the dosage that Sadov had given her could take as long as a day to wear off.
Ana shook her head. “He has an Affinity for fear. It would be dangerous for you to go by yourself.”
The Windwraith nodded. She flitted among the guards’ bodies, plucking knives and rations from them. For the first time, Ana realized that she was still in her ball gown, her beaded purse hanging from her wrist. The cold stung her skin and she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Here.” The Windwraith held out a bundle of clothes.
Ana hesitated. She’d heard so many stories of the Kemeiran Empire growing up—of how the far-eastern kingdom raised deadly assassins and deployed them as spies to serve its brutal regime. Distrust toward the nation was rooted deep in the bones of every Cyrilian. Papa had warned her of them, her tutors had taught her to be wary of them, and Luka had told her of the long war between the two empires.
Yet…this girl’s countenance, her quiet uncertainty, the naked fear that had seized her, all indicated otherwise. She had saved Ana’s life.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Ana reached out and accepted the clothes. “Thank you,” she said. There were a million questions she needed to ask this girl. “How did you find me?”
The girl looked startled; she fixed her gaze on Ana. “It was part of the deal.”
The sentence sounded all too familiar. “Deal?” The word rushed from her in a breath.
“Yes.” Another sharp nod, and then a slight crease of confusion in the girl’s brows. “My contract was purchased after my battle with the Steelshooter at the Playpen. He came and collected me that night.” Her eyes turned soft. “He wouldn’t tell me his name. He said I had a choice: I could make a Trade with him and gain my freedom right there.”
Ana could barely breathe.
“He asked me to protect you when the time came. Then he freed me, and told me to wait for him in Novo Mynsk until he sent word with a snowhawk.” The Windwraith’s hand darted to her hair. “He called on me this evening, so I came.”
Despite what Tetsyev had told her—despite all the evidence to the contrary and all the facts that screamed against her greater instincts, Ana knew instantly that it was Ramson. Ramson had sent this girl.
The air was suddenly too cold, each breath piercing Ana’s lungs like broken glass.
Kerlan only kept him alive long enough for me to get there.
Ramson hadn’t been good—and perhaps some part of him had wanted to change that. In a world of grays, he had made a choice. And that choice had saved her life tonight.
She blinked back tears. She couldn’t afford to think of Ramson, or to try to piece together the full story of why he’d done the things he’d done, made the choices he’d made…not now, not when Luka would be forced to abdicate in five days leaving Morganya to begin her reign of bloodshed and terror.