Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(103)

Someone, Caxton probably, had stoked the campfire back up into a bright blaze, and the heat of it pressed against my back. I didn’t see my enemies, so I listened, straining to hear above the soft popping and crackling of the fire, and trying to figure out exactly where they were . . .

“Did you signal the Mortans yet?” Caxton’s voice cut through the quiet.

The sudden sound startled me, and I had to work very hard not to jerk in surprise.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer and louder, as though someone was leaving the edge of the woods and crunching back through the patches of snow toward the campsite.

“Yes.” Rocinda’s voice drifted over to me. “I just spoke to one of the bastard Morricones through the Cardea mirror they gave us the last time we brought them some strixes. They’re very eager to get their hands on the girl.”

“Who did you talk to?” Caxton asked.

“Someone named Maeven. I think she’s one of the king’s bastard sisters. I told her that the little Blair bitch doesn’t seem to have any magic, but she didn’t care. In fact, Maeven seemed even more interested in the girl after I told her that.”

Panic filled me, and I had to fight the urge to jump to my feet and run away. They were going to take me to Morta? And sell me to one of the king’s relatives? This was even worse than I’d feared. Slavery would be bad enough, but going to Morta was a certain death sentence.

My mother had told me all sorts of horror stories about the Morricone royal family—how much they hated the Blairs, how they coveted our tearstone mines, and especially how they were always brewing poisons and dreaming up new ways to try to kill us. I’d thought she’d just been trying to scare me into behaving, but Rocinda and Caxton’s words seemed to confirm all those awful tales.

So how could I escape this gruesome fate?

My hands had been tied in front of my body with a thick, heavy rope. I tested the bonds, but the rope was far too strong to break. A sob of despair rose in my throat, but I choked it down. Now was not the time to give in to my fear and panic. No, I needed to be calm if I had any chance of surviving. And right now I desperately needed something to cut through the ropes.

I was still lying in the snow, and I glanced around, searching for a rock, a tree branch, or anything else I could use to either get out of my bonds or wield as a weapon. I didn’t see anything, but a little bit more snow melted under my body, and something colder and harder than the ice dug into my hip.

My breath caught in my throat. It was the dagger my mother had given to me back at Winterwind. The blade was still hidden in my pocket. Rocinda and Caxton must not have searched me, and they didn’t realize that I had a weapon.

Maybe I could escape after all.

Rocinda and Caxton kept talking, going over their route from Bellona, through Andvari, and over into Morta, but I tuned them out. They weren’t paying attention to me, and I slowly shifted to the side, so that I was leaning more onto my back. Then I reached around and started working my hands down into my dress pocket.

It was hard, especially since my hands were tied, and I was trying to move my arms as little as possible, but I wormed my fingers into the opening. My dagger was still in there, and I managed to get one fingertip on it, then two, then three. Somehow, I pulled the dagger up high enough so that I could grab the hilt. Then, when I had a good grip on it, I started sliding it out of my pocket.

All I had to do was quietly slice through my bonds and wait for my enemies to go back to sleep. Then I could get up and run into the woods, and this time I wouldn’t be stupid enough to stop for anything—

“I think our little friend is awake,” Caxton said.

For a moment, I froze, but there was no time to waste, so I yanked the dagger free. I didn’t have time to try to slice through my bonds, so instead I wrapped both hands around the hilt—

A rough hand grabbed my shoulder and rolled me over onto my back.

Caxton dropped to his knee and bent down over me. “What do you think you’re doing—”

I whipped up the dagger and stabbed him in the chest.

Caxton screamed in surprise. He jerked back, and the blade slid free of his chest, but I kept my grip on it and shoved it right back into his body again, even deeper than before. He screamed again, then flopped to the ground beside me.

I scrambled up onto my knees, took hold of the dagger, and ripped it out of his chest, but he didn’t scream again. Blood spurted everywhere, making my hands warm and slippery, but I plunged the dagger tip into the snowy ground, then put my hands up against the sharp blade, using it to saw through my bonds.

“Caxton!” Rocinda screamed.

Footsteps crunched through the snow, and the stench of magic filled the air. I looked up. Rocinda was running toward me, a ball of fire crackling in her hand. I went back to work on my bonds, sawing, sawing, sawing with all my might.

Snap!

The ropes finally broke apart. I didn’t even wait for them to drop away from my hands before I grabbed the dagger out of the ground, but Rocinda was quicker than I was, and she hurled her fire at me. I lurched to the side, accidentally tripping over Caxton’s body. The fire zoomed over my head, but I hit the ground hard, landing on my back again, and more pain bloomed in my face and skull. I pushed it away the best I could, but once again, I was too late.

In an instant Rocinda was looming over me, another ball of fire burning in her hand. “Maeven only told me to bring you to her alive. She never said that I couldn’t melt your skin off first,” she hissed.