The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(87)

As they climbed into the basket, he wanted to reach out to her, say something to bridge the maw between them, but all that came out was, “I always knew you were part sparrow.”

When they reached the ground Nasan turned to the girl who helped them out of the basket—a lieutenant, perhaps? Nok wondered—and asked, “Where’s the princess?”

“She’s in the lockup,” said the other girl. “No one wants to get nearer to her than we have to.” Nok peered more closely and noticed long scratch marks raking one side of her face. He smirked; Lu’s work. The girl saw him looking and scowled, then spat on the ground.

“She’s bound, isn’t she?” Nasan demanded.

“Yes,” the girl agreed. “And gagged. Still.”

“There’re dozens of us. I think we can handle one royal,” Nasan snapped. “Bring her out to the lower clearing. Tell Ony to do it.”

Nasan walked forward, tapping Nok lightly on the back to suggest he do the same. At least he wasn’t bound and gagged. Yet.

He followed his sister into a clearing where children of various ages—mostly girls, but some boys—were gathered in clusters, honing weapons, cleaning root vegetables, or darning clothing. Nasan led them past a troupe of little ones turning some small rodent—a squirrel, most like—over a cook fire. The smell of roasting meat made Nok’s stomach growl.

Many of the children looked up and saluted as his sister passed. Nok noticed that many of them bore crude tattoos of animals upon their upper arms. Not just animals, he realized, the Kith gods. Here, he saw the red stag of the Fonti, a tulip clutched in its mouth, stars tangled in its antlers; there a golden eagle of the Iarudi, resplendent against the corona of the sun. And as his sister swung her well-muscled arms in sync with her long stride, he saw the stark blue wolf of the Ashina, fierce and hard under a crescent moon, peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her tunic.

“The tattoos are meant to show what Kith each person is from,” he blurted as the realization came to him.

Nasan nodded. When she spoke, it was with a heaviness—a sense of pride wounded. “Since we don’t have our cauls anymore, we inscribed the memory of them on our skins. Maybe we should do you, too.”

The Gifting Dream. He’d forgotten to tell her—or had he just neglected to? He’d have to tell her eventually.

“Funny thing—remember how when we were kids, everyone assumed I was defective, a weakling, a disappointment to our family lineage? Well, it turns out I may actually be a Pactmaker, the one to bring our Kith back from the dead!”

He cast his eyes upward to the canopy instead. They were in a denser, older part of the forest than he and Lu had been captured in earlier. Here, the trees were regal and massive, arching up toward the sky, centuries bound up within their trunks. Nok saw dozens of little tree houses like the one Nasan had referred to as her quarters dotting their lower boughs. A system of pulleys and rope lines connected them.

They came to a stop.

“Here she is!”

Nok jerked his head toward the voice and saw three of Nasan’s people prodding Lu forward. Behind them, Ony had Lu’s bow strapped to her back. In her hands, Nok saw with a flutter of his heart, Lu’s sword gleamed.

Lu’s hands were bound behind her back, and a stretch of white cotton tied around her mouth. Her captors used a long stick to prod her forward.

One of them gave her a hard shove with the butt of it. Lu went down to her knees. She huffed with the effort, but her eyes remained active, alert. Defiant.

Nok didn’t realize he had moved toward her until Nasan’s hand shot across his chest to stop him.

“Stay here,” his sister said in a low voice. Then she walked forward and tugged the gag down around Lu’s neck. “All right then, Tigress. Nok here wanted to make sure you were safe. Are you safe?”

A flicker of confusion passed Lu’s features—did she recognize Nasan? As far as Nok could recall, they hadn’t interacted back when the emperor visited the Ashina; they’d all been young enough at the time that their difference in age had seemed more significant.

The princess seemed to wrestle with how to react, but the look resolved right before she spat in Nasan’s face.

A cry went up among the crowd, and a few of the assembled began to whoop, as though anticipating a brawl.

“Lu!” Nok cried out. Lu whipped her head toward the sound of his voice. “It’s Nok! I’m here!”

“Nokhai!” she called out, the relief in her voice palpable.

He pushed his way through the crowd and crouched at her side. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” she snapped, sounding more annoyed than frightened. “What is happening? Why does this girl have your face?”

“It’s . . .” He looked at Nasan. “Can I untie her? I promise she won’t run.” Then he glanced back at Lu. “You won’t run, will you?”

“Well, since you promised,” she said tartly.

Nasan nodded reluctantly and a girl stepped forward to slit a knife through the ropes tying Lu’s wrists. She surged forward and Nok flinched, but she just threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight. “They wouldn’t tell me anything. I thought they’d killed you.”

He froze at the weight of her body pressed against his. His hands had gone up instinctively, raised at shoulder level. For a moment he had thought she might kiss him again. He wasn’t sure if he’d meant to push her away or return the embrace. It might look like either; the thought sent a flush up his neck.