The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(80)

On he went, until the only sound left was his own ragged breathing. No more shouting. Just the trill of cicadas and an odd falling branch here and there—the slow, immortal heartbeat of the forest. Quiet. He stopped. Where was he?

The sharp, sweet smells of eucalyptus and pine filled his nose. Young fir trees fought for sunlight in dense packs hugging the trail, their black trunks slick from a recent rain, skeletal limbs garbed in wooly sleeves of pale green moss. He could be anywhere.

Could he summon his caul? He closed his eyes against the world. Tamped down his panic. Come to me, he willed, envisioning the wolf. Come, he pleaded. If you won’t come now, then what good are you at all? Still, he felt nothing, save foolish and lost.

He cursed, turning back toward the road.

When he made it back to the edge of the wood, Lu was on her stomach in the road. The other girl had bound her feet with what looked like more torn strips of the guard’s orange tunic. The guard himself was trussed up similarly a few yards from the princess, awake and alert, but no longer shouting. Whoever the other girl was, her side had won this fight.

Indeed, she stood over her captives, looking pleased.

“Gods,” she cursed delightedly. Then she spat on the ground by the guard. She had excellent aim; it missed his face by the length of a coin. The man flinched.

“You didn’t even know what you had, did you?” the girl continued, a smile tugging at her lips.

She strode over to Lu, grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her face upward. And then she smiled in earnest. “Princess Lu, it’s an honor to finally meet you. My name’s Ony.”

“You!” Lu shouted in recognition at the girl called Ony. “I saw you in the forest! You were following us . . . ,” her voice broke off. “Following me.”

She was giving him an out, Nok realized. If they hadn’t seen him, they wouldn’t know she had a companion, might think he was just another prisoner in the caravan. Might not look for him. It was generous of her. And she couldn’t even know he was watching. For all she knew, he could be halfway back to Ansana by now. Given how quickly he’d run before, she likely thought he was. Shame roiled in his stomach.

“The princess?” The guard gaped, astonished. “That princess?”

“That’s the one,” the girl called Ony agreed cheerfully. She released her grip on Lu’s hair. “Wait ’til my captain gets here, Princess. She was so disappointed when I lost you in the wood. She’s going to love this.”

Nok cursed internally. They had been saved from the camps only to be captured again. And this time by who, exactly? This girl and her people were clearly no friend of the imperials, but that didn’t mean much. Most likely they were thieves, Lu’s bandits in the trees. Ready to sell the princess off to the highest bidder—no doubt her cousin.

Lu must’ve been thinking the same. “Tell me who you serve,” she said quickly. “I am going to win back my throne. If you help me now, take me to the Yunian court, I will find ways to reward you beyond your wildest imagining.”

Nok looked about. Aside from the girl Ony, and the bound guard, they were alone. He could hear others on the far side of the caravan, though the sounds they made were far more subdued now, as though they’d finished rounding everyone up.

The guard wouldn’t be a problem, if he could keep him quiet. That left only the girl herself.

He had to act quickly. He pulled the little paring knife from his boot, thanking every god in the heavens that the imperials hadn’t found it when they’d shackled him.

His heart skipped wild like a rabbit. He didn’t even know who or what this girl Ony was. Could he really hurt her? Kill her?

Omair, he reminded himself. Lu was the key to saving Omair. And Lu herself was—what exactly?

Maybe I can just overpower her, he thought, focusing back on Ony. The girl was small but powerfully built. And he’d seen how quickly she’d moved. Still, he would have the element of surprise on his side, like Lu had when she’d barreled the two of them out of the caravan.

It would have to do.

He surged out from the bracken, knife in hand.

Ony saw him before he made it halfway to her. In the time it took him to raise his knife, she’d yelled out a warning to her friends and hefted her staff up in both hands.

Quick as a blink, she slammed it into his stomach.

He all but ran into the blow. For a searing, breathless moment he folded over the staff like a fallen scarecrow, the pressure in his gut leaden and so big it felt beyond pain. The knife slipped from his hand.

Ony retracted the staff, winding up for another strike. No need. Nok’s knees gave and he went down hard. That pain he did feel, splintering and keen and absolute.

Ony’s friends were there in an instant, pouring around the corner of the caravan, raining down upon him like a storm. The first to reach him crashed a kick into his chest, laying him flat. The back of his skull hit the dry earth and he saw sparks.

He blinked hard to clear them. The world was a smear of movement around him—he counted two, no, five, no, too many attackers. Most were his height or smaller—children. Only children. But they moved fast, fluid, certain. Experienced.

A movement behind Ony caught his eye. Lu. Her hands and feet were still bound, but she was rolling toward the bedding where her sword was still hidden. Two of their assailants caught her by the shoulders and yanked her back. They held her tight, but suddenly one of them—a girl no older than himself—was reeling away, crying out in pain. Nok saw a flash of red against her hand; Lu had bitten her.