Two Dark Reigns (Three Dark Crowns #3)(95)

“He looks wonderful, doesn’t he?” She stuffs her face into his shiny coat. “Caragh must be helping him fish and forage. Not bad eating with a naturalist around, is it, boy?”

“It’s good to see him,” Billy says, casting an eye up the mountain. “But he might not be able to stay with us for long. The path up to the cave might be too hard. And . . . Stop doing that,” he adds as he watches Arsinoe feed the bear more than a day’s ration of dried meat.

“I have to reward him for coming. It’s winter, you know; he would much rather be in his den or in the warm stable at the Black Cottage snoozing with the mule.”

“Fine but no more. He can hunt for himself, but we need food for the journey back to Sunpool.” He waits for a response, but she only snuggles farther into her bear. “Arsinoe, there will be a journey back, won’t there? You never really told me what’s waiting for us at the top of this mountain.”

“That’s because I don’t know. I’m not keeping some great secret. All I know is that Daphne wants me there. That she’ll speak to me.”

“Which could mean a hundred things.”

“Are you regretting not going with Mira and Jules?”

“No, of course not.”

They continue with the bear in tow, making their way through the trees, upward and upward toward the snow line. The path in the lower elevation is not that difficult, and Braddock keeps up easily and finds plenty of cold berries to forage along the way. That night, they stop at a broad stretch of the trail and build a small fire. Braddock lies down and lets Arsinoe and even Billy cuddle up in his side.

“On second thought,” says Billy, “maybe we will try to bring him all the way. It’ll only get harder to light a fire, and he’s sure to stay plenty warm.” He slides an arm around her, careful not to jostle the bear too much. “We should have kept Mira back, too. We could be toasty and dry all the way to the cave.”

“Do you think she’s all right?” Arsinoe asks. “Do you think they both are?”

“I think if they weren’t, we’d have heard Mira’s storm all the way across the mountain.”

Arsinoe glances up at the peak of Mount Horn. She hopes the cave will be good enough for Daphne, and they will not have to go any farther. If they rise early and climb hard, they may reach it by nightfall and not have to camp on the steeper mountainside.

“Do you know what I’m afraid of?” she asks.

“What?”

“I’m afraid to reach this cave and find nothing inside. That it was all a joke. A ploy to bring us back here. Or a trick of my own mind.”

“Funny”—he kisses her head—“that’s what I would like to happen. But I don’t think that it will.”

Arsinoe snuggles closer to him, entwining their legs, and lets her hands roam until he inhales sharply.

“Arsinoe!” He grins. “Not in front of the bear.”

She grins back. “The bear doesn’t mind.”

But as soon as their movements disturb him, Braddock gets up with a grunt and goes to lie someplace else.





INNISFUIL VALLEY




“How many cavalry soldiers can you knock from their horses with your gift?”

“I don’t know,” Jules asks. “How many can you?”

Emilia shrugs. “Two. Perhaps three if their seat is no good. Certainly not a hundred, which is how many horses she seems to have brought.”

They lie on their backs in the snow, watching the clouds go by overhead. It is a clear, quiet day. Either not many of the queen’s soldiers are elementals, or none of them is the least bit nervous. As for Mirabella, somewhere up a tree to the southeast, well, she knows how to mask her gift.

“If this goes wrong, Emilia, you have to promise to let me go through with the trade.” Jules turns her head. But Emilia will not look at her.

“I will not promise that.”

“She’s my mother. And my little brother needs her.”

Emilia half rolls onto her shoulder and stretches her neck back to peer toward the valley.

“The others should be in position now.” Camden growls, and the warrior grins, reaches down and scratches her shoulder. “Even your cat wants to fight. Like she is touched with the war gift as well. If you trade yourself, what am I supposed to do with her?”

“Hold her back. Don’t let her follow.”

Emilia and Camden regard each other. The cougar seems fairly sure she would win that argument.

“It’s time,” Emilia says. “Send a bird to the queen. Let her know you are here.”

The bird that the rebels send is a hawk. Unmistakable in its message, it swoops low through the army camp, every so often sounding its sharp, piercing cry. When Katharine emerges from her tent, it flies directly onto her arm, the insolent thing.

She grits her teeth and strokes its chest feathers as its talons needle through her glove. Then she tosses it back up into the air and watches it fly, back to the west end of the meadow.

“Horses?” Pietyr asks as he comes up behind her buttoning his shirt and queensguard coat. “Or shall we go on foot?”

“Horses,” she replies. The dead war queens have lent her plenty of their gift today, and she will be ready for anything.