Flamecaster (Shattered Realms #1)(65)

For a moment, Lila had no comeback. “We’re not friends,” she said, avoiding Ash’s eyes. “I’m here on business.”

“What kind of business?”

“None of yours. I’m not accountable to you.”

“Who are you accountable to?”

“Myself,” Lila said.

“Maybe you’re the one that gave me up to the Darians at Oden’s Ford.”

“Right,” she said, staring up at the ceiling. “And then I turned around and rescued you. You know women—changeable as a day in April. Sometimes we just can’t make up our minds.”

“Maybe you figured you’d collect twice—once from the Darians, for outing me, and once from my mother, for bringing me home.”

Lisa went back to offense. “You’re not planning to do something rash, are you?”

“Such as—?”

“Such as trying to kill Montaigne. Do you think nobody’s thought of that before? Do you think professionals haven’t tried? You’re an amateur, sul’Han. Don’t let the fact that you’re a wizard make you overconfident. This king is surrounded by mages, and he wears a clan-made talisman night and day to protect against magical attacks.”

Bellamy was right, Ash thought. Good to know.

“He employs a taster, and takes antidotes against common poisons on a regular basis.”

What about uncommon poisons?

“Where does he get the antidotes?”

Lila released an exasperated breath. “I should save myself a lot of trouble and hand you over to the king. I’m sure he’d offer a rich reward. Instead, I’ve got to find a way to get you out of here, which won’t be easy now that His Majesty is all smitten with you.” She began pacing again. “I don’t have time for this.”

“I missed the part where I asked for your help,” Ash said. “Why do you care so much? You don’t have anything on the table, as far as I can see. All I want is for you to go about your business and leave me alone.”

“I would love to take care of business,” Lila muttered. “And I don’t need an entitled runaway wizard blueblood princeling mucking it up.”

“No problem,” Ash said. “Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“Huh,” Lila said. “We’ll see. You’ll find it’s hard to stay out of anyone’s way in this place.”





22


HOMECOMING


To Jenna’s surprise, Karn and his blackbirds didn’t bother to bring in a healer to treat the wound just below her ribs. Karn treated it himself, packing it and wrapping her middle in linen bandages. It stopped bleeding almost immediately, and turned icy.

At first, she worried that it wasn’t deep enough to kill her, but the way Karn barked orders at everyone told her that he thought it might be. They left her in her bloody fortunetelling clothes, wrapped her in furs, and bundled her into a closed carriage, with three blackbirds and Karn inside, and more up top and riding alongside. It was snowing heavily, and bitter cold.

They’d taken her dagger, but she still had the pendant, at least. Nobody seemed to notice it in all the fuss about her wound and the magemark. She’d tucked it inside the lining of her coat when nobody was looking. She slid a finger in and touched it now and then, wondering how long before that was taken away, too. With any luck, she’d be dead before they took it.

At first she struggled and kicked, and once almost threw herself out of the carriage while it was moving, but she gradually grew weaker and then slept most of the time, conscious of a creeping chill that gradually took over her body. Karn tried to give her soup, and tea, but she resisted, and he spilled more than he got into her.

It was like she felt every bump of the journey. Once, they had to stop to put runners on the carriage to come through the deep snow. Karn swore and pounded his fist on the frame of the carriage.

She heard soldiers over her head, shouting travelers off the road. She felt the pressure of Karn’s eyes, as if by watching her he could keep her from slipping away. As if he could look into her soul, and see what was hidden there.

As her body grew colder, the air grew warmer, moister, and filled with the scent of growing things.

She didn’t know how long they were on the road, but finally one day as she lay between sleep and waking she could hear sounds outside the carriage that told her they were in a city. She heard the horses’ hooves striking cobblestones, and dogs barking. The familiar stench of coal fires burned in her nose, and people were shouting at each other the way they do when they are packed close together. She heard the sound of temple bells overhead.

It must be almost Solstice, she thought hazily. Perhaps they’re taking me somewhere for the holiday. The thought made her smile.

It was a large city, because it was another hour before they clattered across a bridge and into the stable yard at the palace. When they opened the door to the carriage, she could smell horse dung. Or was it the river? She knew she must be in Ardenscourt, the city of her birth. Or, at least, the city where her grandmother had handed her over to the only parents she’d ever known, along with a ruby-hilted dagger and a warning.

She wondered if she would find any answers here.

She was surprised that they would bring a Delphian Patriot this far south to wring answers out of her. Maybe with Clermont gone, they were short of help when it came to torture.