The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire, #1)(28)
ELEVEN
PANIC WAS FRAYING the edges of Lorelai’s thoughts, chewing away at her minute by minute until she thought she’d go mad if she couldn’t settle on a plan that could save Gabril’s life.
In the four days since Gabril had been stabbed, the wound had festered. His body, wracked with fever and pain, continued to weaken. There were no medicinal plants anywhere near their campsite. There were no villages within a day’s walk except Tranke, and no one would help them there even if they could. And despite Lorelai’s relentless pleas, Gabril refused to allow her to heal him, convinced that any lingering trace of Irina’s magic would immediately report Lorelai’s whereabouts to the queen.
Not to mention that healing Gabril would require her to expend all her energy to force his stubborn heart to yield to hers, leaving her too weak to fight the queen once Irina did find them.
Gabril would die anyway, and Leo with him. It was a chance Lorelai couldn’t take.
Instead, she’d cobbled together a plan out of the only alternative she could think of. Leaving Sasha at the campsite to guard Gabril, Lorelai headed to the huge village of Nordenberg with Leo—who refused to let her go alone since she’d been seen at the garrison—where she hoped the apothecary would have supplies that could save Gabril. The Kiffen lands stretched across much of the eastern Falkrains, but their estate was in Nordenberg. If any village still had the means to buy medical supplies, it would be Nordenberg.
Leo had volunteered to go alone, but she’d argued him into silence. Soldiers would undoubtedly be searching for the garrison robbers. How would his charm and recklessness help him if he got caught? Or if someone recognized him and decided to turn him in to the queen in exchange for enough food to last the winter?
He was her responsibility—he had been since the moment her father had placed Leo’s hand in hers and told her to get him to safety. Nine years later, she was still doing her best to obey her father’s last wish.
The journey took a day and a half. When at last the snug, tidy cottages of Nordenberg appeared in the distance, the sun was approaching its midpoint in the sky. The town was arranged in neat rows and gentle curves at the base of the northernmost Falkrain mountain, its wood and brick buildings following the swell of the land as it began its ascent to the sky above. A wide lane bisected its heart, and most businesses were located either along that lane or one street over.
The apothecary shop was on a side street that was paved in buckled cobblestones with patches of wild grass pushing through the cracks. After stopping behind an outlying barn to change into their peasant outfits, Lorelai and Leo pulled caps low over their foreheads to keep from being recognized and entered the village. Lorelai was so focused on their destination that the heavy silence within the village streets didn’t penetrate her thoughts until they was already past the first block of shops.
A chill brushed her skin as she grabbed Leo’s arm and pulled them both to a halt. She looked around, but the streets were deserted. It was as if every person in Nordenberg had simply disappeared.
Slowly, she spun on her heels and looked for something to tell her what was happening.
“Where is everyone?” Leo whispered.
“I don’t know, but something’s not right.”
It was time for the midday meal—had everyone gone to their homes to dine? Had Lady Kiffen called a town meeting on the grounds of her estate?
“I can go to the rooftops to check it out,” Leo said.
“You do that. I’ll keep going toward the apothecary’s. Whistle if there’s trouble ahead of me. I don’t care what’s going on, we can’t leave here without those supplies.”
If the apothecary was as empty as the rest of the businesses around her, she’d take what she needed and leave the dagger on his counter as payment. Gabril’s situation didn’t give Lorelai the luxury of waiting for the villagers to return.
Leo scaled the closest wall and moved swiftly across the rooftops while Lorelai hurried forward, every nerve straining to recognize any sign of trouble.
Her brother’s soft whistle—a perfect mimic of a canary—drifted through the air as Lorelai was halfway through the intersection of the next street. She turned to look up at the rooftop behind her but then froze, her heart thudding rapidly as she stared.
Parked on the side street, just beyond the bakery, was a coach with the Ravenspire crest painted on its doors. The street beyond the coach was packed with villagers who were slowly eating handfuls of glossy red apples while staring at the royal vehicle.
And standing on top of the coach facing the villagers, a large red and gold dragon on the street beside her, was Queen Irina.
Lorelai stood, halfway into the road that cut between the bakery and the livery stables, and stared at Irina, her heartbeat slamming against her ears, her mouth going dry. For a moment, her vision wavered, and her knees shook.
Magic stung her veins and gathered in her palms, and a brilliant flame of rage lit her from the inside out. In her mind’s eye, she saw Irina laughing while the castle came to life and tried to crush Lorelai. She saw her father’s blood on the marble floor while Irina’s snake slithered away.
She reached for her gloves as she remembered her father telling her to protect Leo.
Protect Leo.
Fighting Irina like this—without thinking it through, without a backup plan—was a good way to get Leo killed. She’d learned that lesson the hard way nine years ago.