Sign of the Knife, page 20
How could he? Where did you get that information?”
I looked from Kelt to Prince Joren to Varik. They were all staring at me. Varik looked patient. Prince Joren looked upset. And Kelt looked downright angry. He jabbed a finger in my face.
“You’ve been in touch with someone! I knew it was you who carved that table back at the inn! Didn’t I tell you it was her?”
He said to Prince Joren. “And that tree, was that you as well? What does it mean?”
Prince Joren put a hand on Kelt’s arm. “Kelt, she’s a maid.
She can’t be involved in any of that. She was just—”
“A maid who knows how to throw knives,” Kelt said. “Did you forget that she stole Varik’s knife and threw it at him? Did you see what she did to Leif? And we all saw what she carved! She’s not just a maid!”
“It was Leif!” I jumped up, desperate to make him stop talking. “I heard it from Leif, all right? When he was—by the horses. He said Domhnall would circle back to us. But it seemed silly to tell you after I thought about it. He’s such an idiot I wouldn’t trust anything he says. I didn’t want to alarm you all.
Besides, how could Domhnall get around us? There are ravines everywhere. I don’t even think it’s possible.”
They stared at me.
And then they all jumped into action at once. “Orn, go question Leif.” Prince Joren said. “Varik, stay with Maid Mira at all times or assign another to take your place. I don’t want you to 212
so much as sneeze without making sure someone will watch her while your eyes are shut. Do you understand?”
Varik jumped to stand beside me, his sword out as if ready for battle. “Of course, Your Highness.”
“Arthur!” Kelt called and the guard came running over. “I want to talk to every man who’s been out scouting. And I want a group organized immediately to check the way ahead of us.”
People began rushing around. Varik hurried me to my tent where Illsabet was already packing up.
We were readying our horses when the scouts returned.
“It’s hard to know,” Arthur said to Prince Joren. “It looks like someone might have been traveling lightly in front of us. Just a few men, perhaps, being careful to leave few traces. It might be a trapper. Or it may be nothing.”
Prince Joren nodded. “Perhaps Leif was just trying to impress—or scare Maid Mira. Kelt? What are your thoughts?”
Kelt scowled at me before turning to the prince. “It’s better to go forward than backward. We don’t know if he has men in front, but we know for certain he has men somewhere behind us.”
“Then we move forward,” Prince Joren said. “For Gilan and Aloysia!”
As we rode, I realized I’d been wrong to tell Varik, in my fear, not to leave me alone. Domhnall always finds who he’s looking for. Every time. If there was any way, then of course he would have men in front of us, as well as behind. He would surround us before attacking, so we had no chance for escape. The man was a genius—which was exactly why I’d been eager to join him.
I’d been a foolish, stupid girl to imagine fighting would be glorious. Yes, I wanted change. But dear gods, not like this. And to think that I’d imagined we might make it to Lydelia, that I might find a way out of my oath.
There was no way out.
I had to take one life to save the rest.
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No, I thought. Not one. I had to take two lives.
Killing Prince Joren would destroy myself as well.
I adjusted my cloak and shifted my tunic making Ordalf more accessible. It was time to stop pretending I had a choice.
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CHAPTER 20
We’d ridden for the better part of the day, always slowing before we rounded a sharp bend, hyper aware of every sound, every silence.
The suspense was straining everyone. Even Orn, usually completely stoic, looked like he might tumble off his small horse if a squirrel so much as ran past him.
When we came to a place where the path widened, we stopped to let the scouts ride ahead.
The ravine dropped away to our right, falling straight down to nothing. There was an incredible view of the mountains beyond, fading from blue to lighter blue and silver in the distance.
Illsabet looked over the edge and said there was a river at the bottom, but said it was so far down she couldn’t hear the water rushing over boulders.
“Just look,” she said. “It’s an amazing view. You’re not going to fall in.”
I adjusted my tunic so Ordalf couldn’t be seen, lay on my stomach and gripped the edge, feeling as if the mountain might shift and tip me over.
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The bottom of the ravine, with the silent rushing river was so far away it was like looking into the sky, except it was below me. The whole world spun, and I gasped as a gust of cold air rushed up from below.
Prince Joren inched over carefully and sat beside me on the edge, his boots dangling into nothingness.
“Oh goodness!” Illsabet said. “Don’t you think you should back up?”
He smiled. “I’ll be all right.” He dropped a rock into the air.
It fell and fell and fell and finally disappeared without once hitting the side of the ravine.
He leaned out to watch and my instinct was to grab him to keep him from falling. Then I thought how absurd that was—
saving the man I had to kill. Perhaps I should push him.
I moved and Kelt shifted his stance, hand out, ready to stop me if I made a move toward the prince.
Our eyes met, and I got back to my knees and walked over to Moonlight. I didn’t dare reach back to make certain Ordalf was covered by my cloak. Touching the knife while Kelt was watching would only tip him off that Ordalf was there.
Across the path, Leif’s eyes followed me, too.
Good mercy. I’d never been so watched. I looked up to the sky, needing to find someplace where I could be alone.
That’s when I saw the tree. A white poplar grew out of a ledge on the mountain above our horses, leaning slightly toward the ravine.
Its bark had been cut into the sign of the knife.
And painted red.
My mind flashed to the dusty morning in Butcher Bruke’s shed and the drop of blood falling from my finger into the center of the Sign of the Knife.
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Being in the Order means doing whatever Domhnall asks of you. If you don’t, the sign of the knife turns red. Any fool who thinks to disobey Domhnall is killed. Keep your promises, Mira.”
Leif, I thought. He’s done this. Or one of his friends.
But the poplar was well above the path. For any of them to have carved and painted it, they would have had to climb up and carve the tree while hanging in plain sight of the guards who were assigned to watch their every move.
And where would they get red paint?
Leif turned to see what I was staring at and followed my gaze. His eyes grew wide. When he looked back at me, I knew for certain he hadn’t been the one to carve it. He hadn’t known it was there.
Moonlight pulled up bits of green and was munching them as tiny flakes of snow drifted onto her back. I brushed them off, my hands trembling, my heart beating wildly inside my chest like it was trying to escape.
If none of us made it to Lydelia, no one would ever know what had happened.
But no. That wasn’t Domhnall’s style. He wouldn’t leave the prince out here to rot. He was more likely to bring Joren’s body into Aloysia slumped over the back of a horse so everyone could see what he had done. The rest of us could be thrown into the ravine. Run through with swords. Or thrown against the boulders of the mountain until our heads split open.
Stop! I was making myself sick.
Hooves pounded toward us from around the bend and I crouched, one hand flying to the knife on my back.
“It’s a clear path as far as we can see, Your Highness,” said Amar. He was sweating from the ride and had white flecks of snow in his black hair and a frosty moustache.
I let out my breath and leaned against Moonlight’s side, trembling.
Leif and I looked at each other.
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But Onwall shook his head. “They have to be in front.
Better to wait here, where we have ground to fight on. Besides,” he squinted up at the sky, “seems to be another storm coming in.”
There was a pause as Onwall looked up and I saw his eyes travel to the sign of the knife. “Is that…” He pointed to the sign.
Several guards looked up and Kelt cursed aloud.
“Domhnall’s been here,” Orn grunted.
Kelt gave him such an angry look that he closed his mouth.
Arthur scrambled up the rocks to the base of the tree and called down, “It’s fairly fresh. Maybe carved this morning. There’s a drop of red on the rocks too.”
Prince Joren and a few of his guards formed a circle and talked in rushed voices as snow flurries blew about us. The wind had become bitterly cold.
Leif started walking toward me, but two guards stopped him. “I just need to talk to the maid!” I heard him say, but they wouldn’t let him pass.
Varik stepped closer to me.
“We keep moving,” Prince Joren called. He mounted his horse, surrounded by guards on every side. He rode alongside Varik. Kelt dropped back to ride beside me.
I was confused by the change.
I could see the prince and Varik speaking together as Kelt said, “Tell me what that carving means, Maid Mira.”
I gripped the reins tighter and didn’t look at him. “I can’t help you.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” He rode directly beside me, so close he could grab me. If he wanted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I spit the words at him.
He rode beside me in silence. After we turned onto switchbacks, he asked, “Who taught you to throw knives?”
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I kept my eyes on the road and didn’t let myself blink. “No one taught me. I had too much time on the farm and too few entertainments. I’m not really all that good.”
He huffed. “That’s not what I saw.”
As I rode with Ordalf under my cloak where I could reach it quickly, I stared at the prince in front of me.
Just one throw. Just one quick moment. One decision. And I would save everyone else. Genna, who was likely expecting a baby. Varik, who was so attentive. Illsabet, who was a princess but was thoughtful and sweet. All these people who didn’t deserve to die just because they happened to be traveling with the prince. Just because I was too afraid to do one simple thing.
Energy seemed to flow through the knife and fill my body.
I fixed my eyes on a spot on the prince’s back, just to the left of his spine.
Illsabet was between us. I nudged Moonlight forward and Kelt kept pace. I would have to throw hard, from close range.
And then I would run like I’ve never run before, down the mountain through the brush on foot because my horse would only restrict me to the path. It would take Kelt half a blink to realize what had happened and another half to go after me.
Snow stung my cheeks, and my breath came in ragged gasps.
The prince called a stop so suddenly I nearly fell off Moonlight.
Six enormous boulders lay across the road. They’d apparently crashed down from the mountain above. I wondered when they had fallen and if anything, or anyone, was pinned beneath them. It was shocking that mountains could fall apart and tumble down in pieces like that.
Everyone began dismounting.
I looked up into the swirling grey sky and pled with Gen, Eyvi, and especially Ada to help me change history here, right here where these enormous boulders had changed the mountain.
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Although in truth, I was no longer certain what I was fighting for.
Did I want Domhnall to overthrow Joren? Did I want Joren’s family to keep the throne?
Nothing seemed like a good option.
In the end, I shut my eyes and simply begged Gen to save us all and tried to imagine what Roland had been thinking to get involved with such a man. I suppose he wanted change, too.
When I opened my eyes, Leif was watching me.
The ground was rocky, and one side dropped straight into the ravine. But there was space between the massive boulders for tents, and with the wind and snow picking up, it was clear we would have to sit out the storm.
Cook got a small fire going in the shelter of the rocks as guards scrambled to set up the tents while talking about storms they had experienced and people who had died—blown into ravines, frozen in saddles, or buried under snow deeper than could ever really exist.
Why, I wondered, did men enjoy discussing such things?
A blast of wind screamed through camp blowing cups from Cook’s table and upending one of the tents, sending it tumbling against the mountain. Guards shouted and horses whinnied.
I turned to see Leif on the other side of the fire, his knife in his hand. He stared at me.
I looked around for Varik.
He was nearby, but he was distracted, helping Cook tie things down.
When I turned back, Leif was gone.
Then I saw him, moving through the trees that clung to the ravine’s edge, behind the tents, his knife in his hand, his eyes on me.
The wind gusted again, bringing snow so thick I had to shield my face with my arms to see anything at all.
A pot blew off the log beside me and clanged into one of the boulders. It knocked Illsabet on her leg.
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She cried out and Varik turned to help her.
The guards were in an uproar, holding down tents, scrambling to calm the horses, to catch plates and bowls as they tumbled along the rocky ground. The fire was all but dead and the snow was so thick it was nearly impossible to see.
And then I realized Ada was answering my prayer. The gods were providing my cover.
I had to act now.
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CHAPTER 21
Ordalf was cold in my hand, but a strange thrill of power raced through me when I touched it, a thrill that almost felt like warmth. I fought my way across camp to where Prince Joren had been.
Snow was swirling so thick it was impossible to see more than an arm’s length in front of my face, but I moved quickly, squinting through the blinding whiteness, praying to find the prince before Leif found me.
The wind shrieked, and I covered one ear with my free hand to block it out.
I slipped and collided with someone. I grabbed his arm and then dropped it.
It was Leif.
He regained his footing. Before I could find my balance, his knife swung at me.
I lunged and thrust Ordalf through his chest.
Our eyes met.
His body fell forward.
I looked down at my hand, shocked at the knife in Leif’s chest, and pulled my arm back.
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His body landed with a thump.
I stared as blood stained the snow, leaking red into the blizzard, like Ada’s blood in Evella.
Someone rushed past us in the storm but didn’t stop or notice.
I fell to my knees and vomited right there before I staggered away.
There were guards everywhere shouting commands that were tossed away on the wind, asking for help holding down tents and horses.
I stumbled into one of the boulders.
I had killed a man. With my own hands.
Someone would find him. Soon.
I realized I was holding Ordalf in plain view of anyone who came close enough to see me. Blood covered the blade. I couldn’t think what to do with it. So I tucked it under my cloak and was surprised when my other hand, stretched out in front of me, touched the warmth of a horse’s rump. I thought I was near the fire.
Domhnall could be attacking right this moment and we would never hear the cries of the dying above the howls of the wind.
I passed three dark shapes that turned out to be guards.
One shouted, “What are you doing out here? Get inside!”
I nodded and turned away.
And then Prince Joren was there, right before me. His cloak billowed in the wind. His hair was covered in snow. He grabbed my arm and he shouted, “Mira! Get into a tent!”
I pulled Ordalf from beneath my cloak and his eyes widened.
I raised the knife.
He stepped back and stumbled.
He fell, further than the ground, his arm clutching mine. He pulled me down with him.
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My knees hit the ground and I saw that I was on the edge of the ravine. And then I fell, tumbling through the air, knocking against rocks and branches and falling further.
I landed hard on my back. My head whacked into the ground so hard my teeth shook.
I was paralyzed, unable even to breathe.
Whiteness was complete. All sounds were gone. Rushing filled my ears.
My body ached for breath.
My chest heaved up and air rushed in. I gulped it like water. In. And out. And in.
I looked from Kelt to Prince Joren to Varik. They were all staring at me. Varik looked patient. Prince Joren looked upset. And Kelt looked downright angry. He jabbed a finger in my face.
“You’ve been in touch with someone! I knew it was you who carved that table back at the inn! Didn’t I tell you it was her?”
He said to Prince Joren. “And that tree, was that you as well? What does it mean?”
Prince Joren put a hand on Kelt’s arm. “Kelt, she’s a maid.
She can’t be involved in any of that. She was just—”
“A maid who knows how to throw knives,” Kelt said. “Did you forget that she stole Varik’s knife and threw it at him? Did you see what she did to Leif? And we all saw what she carved! She’s not just a maid!”
“It was Leif!” I jumped up, desperate to make him stop talking. “I heard it from Leif, all right? When he was—by the horses. He said Domhnall would circle back to us. But it seemed silly to tell you after I thought about it. He’s such an idiot I wouldn’t trust anything he says. I didn’t want to alarm you all.
Besides, how could Domhnall get around us? There are ravines everywhere. I don’t even think it’s possible.”
They stared at me.
And then they all jumped into action at once. “Orn, go question Leif.” Prince Joren said. “Varik, stay with Maid Mira at all times or assign another to take your place. I don’t want you to 212
so much as sneeze without making sure someone will watch her while your eyes are shut. Do you understand?”
Varik jumped to stand beside me, his sword out as if ready for battle. “Of course, Your Highness.”
“Arthur!” Kelt called and the guard came running over. “I want to talk to every man who’s been out scouting. And I want a group organized immediately to check the way ahead of us.”
People began rushing around. Varik hurried me to my tent where Illsabet was already packing up.
We were readying our horses when the scouts returned.
“It’s hard to know,” Arthur said to Prince Joren. “It looks like someone might have been traveling lightly in front of us. Just a few men, perhaps, being careful to leave few traces. It might be a trapper. Or it may be nothing.”
Prince Joren nodded. “Perhaps Leif was just trying to impress—or scare Maid Mira. Kelt? What are your thoughts?”
Kelt scowled at me before turning to the prince. “It’s better to go forward than backward. We don’t know if he has men in front, but we know for certain he has men somewhere behind us.”
“Then we move forward,” Prince Joren said. “For Gilan and Aloysia!”
As we rode, I realized I’d been wrong to tell Varik, in my fear, not to leave me alone. Domhnall always finds who he’s looking for. Every time. If there was any way, then of course he would have men in front of us, as well as behind. He would surround us before attacking, so we had no chance for escape. The man was a genius—which was exactly why I’d been eager to join him.
I’d been a foolish, stupid girl to imagine fighting would be glorious. Yes, I wanted change. But dear gods, not like this. And to think that I’d imagined we might make it to Lydelia, that I might find a way out of my oath.
There was no way out.
I had to take one life to save the rest.
213
No, I thought. Not one. I had to take two lives.
Killing Prince Joren would destroy myself as well.
I adjusted my cloak and shifted my tunic making Ordalf more accessible. It was time to stop pretending I had a choice.
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CHAPTER 20
We’d ridden for the better part of the day, always slowing before we rounded a sharp bend, hyper aware of every sound, every silence.
The suspense was straining everyone. Even Orn, usually completely stoic, looked like he might tumble off his small horse if a squirrel so much as ran past him.
When we came to a place where the path widened, we stopped to let the scouts ride ahead.
The ravine dropped away to our right, falling straight down to nothing. There was an incredible view of the mountains beyond, fading from blue to lighter blue and silver in the distance.
Illsabet looked over the edge and said there was a river at the bottom, but said it was so far down she couldn’t hear the water rushing over boulders.
“Just look,” she said. “It’s an amazing view. You’re not going to fall in.”
I adjusted my tunic so Ordalf couldn’t be seen, lay on my stomach and gripped the edge, feeling as if the mountain might shift and tip me over.
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The bottom of the ravine, with the silent rushing river was so far away it was like looking into the sky, except it was below me. The whole world spun, and I gasped as a gust of cold air rushed up from below.
Prince Joren inched over carefully and sat beside me on the edge, his boots dangling into nothingness.
“Oh goodness!” Illsabet said. “Don’t you think you should back up?”
He smiled. “I’ll be all right.” He dropped a rock into the air.
It fell and fell and fell and finally disappeared without once hitting the side of the ravine.
He leaned out to watch and my instinct was to grab him to keep him from falling. Then I thought how absurd that was—
saving the man I had to kill. Perhaps I should push him.
I moved and Kelt shifted his stance, hand out, ready to stop me if I made a move toward the prince.
Our eyes met, and I got back to my knees and walked over to Moonlight. I didn’t dare reach back to make certain Ordalf was covered by my cloak. Touching the knife while Kelt was watching would only tip him off that Ordalf was there.
Across the path, Leif’s eyes followed me, too.
Good mercy. I’d never been so watched. I looked up to the sky, needing to find someplace where I could be alone.
That’s when I saw the tree. A white poplar grew out of a ledge on the mountain above our horses, leaning slightly toward the ravine.
Its bark had been cut into the sign of the knife.
And painted red.
My mind flashed to the dusty morning in Butcher Bruke’s shed and the drop of blood falling from my finger into the center of the Sign of the Knife.
217
Being in the Order means doing whatever Domhnall asks of you. If you don’t, the sign of the knife turns red. Any fool who thinks to disobey Domhnall is killed. Keep your promises, Mira.”
Leif, I thought. He’s done this. Or one of his friends.
But the poplar was well above the path. For any of them to have carved and painted it, they would have had to climb up and carve the tree while hanging in plain sight of the guards who were assigned to watch their every move.
And where would they get red paint?
Leif turned to see what I was staring at and followed my gaze. His eyes grew wide. When he looked back at me, I knew for certain he hadn’t been the one to carve it. He hadn’t known it was there.
Moonlight pulled up bits of green and was munching them as tiny flakes of snow drifted onto her back. I brushed them off, my hands trembling, my heart beating wildly inside my chest like it was trying to escape.
If none of us made it to Lydelia, no one would ever know what had happened.
But no. That wasn’t Domhnall’s style. He wouldn’t leave the prince out here to rot. He was more likely to bring Joren’s body into Aloysia slumped over the back of a horse so everyone could see what he had done. The rest of us could be thrown into the ravine. Run through with swords. Or thrown against the boulders of the mountain until our heads split open.
Stop! I was making myself sick.
Hooves pounded toward us from around the bend and I crouched, one hand flying to the knife on my back.
“It’s a clear path as far as we can see, Your Highness,” said Amar. He was sweating from the ride and had white flecks of snow in his black hair and a frosty moustache.
I let out my breath and leaned against Moonlight’s side, trembling.
Leif and I looked at each other.
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But Onwall shook his head. “They have to be in front.
Better to wait here, where we have ground to fight on. Besides,” he squinted up at the sky, “seems to be another storm coming in.”
There was a pause as Onwall looked up and I saw his eyes travel to the sign of the knife. “Is that…” He pointed to the sign.
Several guards looked up and Kelt cursed aloud.
“Domhnall’s been here,” Orn grunted.
Kelt gave him such an angry look that he closed his mouth.
Arthur scrambled up the rocks to the base of the tree and called down, “It’s fairly fresh. Maybe carved this morning. There’s a drop of red on the rocks too.”
Prince Joren and a few of his guards formed a circle and talked in rushed voices as snow flurries blew about us. The wind had become bitterly cold.
Leif started walking toward me, but two guards stopped him. “I just need to talk to the maid!” I heard him say, but they wouldn’t let him pass.
Varik stepped closer to me.
“We keep moving,” Prince Joren called. He mounted his horse, surrounded by guards on every side. He rode alongside Varik. Kelt dropped back to ride beside me.
I was confused by the change.
I could see the prince and Varik speaking together as Kelt said, “Tell me what that carving means, Maid Mira.”
I gripped the reins tighter and didn’t look at him. “I can’t help you.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” He rode directly beside me, so close he could grab me. If he wanted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I spit the words at him.
He rode beside me in silence. After we turned onto switchbacks, he asked, “Who taught you to throw knives?”
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I kept my eyes on the road and didn’t let myself blink. “No one taught me. I had too much time on the farm and too few entertainments. I’m not really all that good.”
He huffed. “That’s not what I saw.”
As I rode with Ordalf under my cloak where I could reach it quickly, I stared at the prince in front of me.
Just one throw. Just one quick moment. One decision. And I would save everyone else. Genna, who was likely expecting a baby. Varik, who was so attentive. Illsabet, who was a princess but was thoughtful and sweet. All these people who didn’t deserve to die just because they happened to be traveling with the prince. Just because I was too afraid to do one simple thing.
Energy seemed to flow through the knife and fill my body.
I fixed my eyes on a spot on the prince’s back, just to the left of his spine.
Illsabet was between us. I nudged Moonlight forward and Kelt kept pace. I would have to throw hard, from close range.
And then I would run like I’ve never run before, down the mountain through the brush on foot because my horse would only restrict me to the path. It would take Kelt half a blink to realize what had happened and another half to go after me.
Snow stung my cheeks, and my breath came in ragged gasps.
The prince called a stop so suddenly I nearly fell off Moonlight.
Six enormous boulders lay across the road. They’d apparently crashed down from the mountain above. I wondered when they had fallen and if anything, or anyone, was pinned beneath them. It was shocking that mountains could fall apart and tumble down in pieces like that.
Everyone began dismounting.
I looked up into the swirling grey sky and pled with Gen, Eyvi, and especially Ada to help me change history here, right here where these enormous boulders had changed the mountain.
220
Although in truth, I was no longer certain what I was fighting for.
Did I want Domhnall to overthrow Joren? Did I want Joren’s family to keep the throne?
Nothing seemed like a good option.
In the end, I shut my eyes and simply begged Gen to save us all and tried to imagine what Roland had been thinking to get involved with such a man. I suppose he wanted change, too.
When I opened my eyes, Leif was watching me.
The ground was rocky, and one side dropped straight into the ravine. But there was space between the massive boulders for tents, and with the wind and snow picking up, it was clear we would have to sit out the storm.
Cook got a small fire going in the shelter of the rocks as guards scrambled to set up the tents while talking about storms they had experienced and people who had died—blown into ravines, frozen in saddles, or buried under snow deeper than could ever really exist.
Why, I wondered, did men enjoy discussing such things?
A blast of wind screamed through camp blowing cups from Cook’s table and upending one of the tents, sending it tumbling against the mountain. Guards shouted and horses whinnied.
I turned to see Leif on the other side of the fire, his knife in his hand. He stared at me.
I looked around for Varik.
He was nearby, but he was distracted, helping Cook tie things down.
When I turned back, Leif was gone.
Then I saw him, moving through the trees that clung to the ravine’s edge, behind the tents, his knife in his hand, his eyes on me.
The wind gusted again, bringing snow so thick I had to shield my face with my arms to see anything at all.
A pot blew off the log beside me and clanged into one of the boulders. It knocked Illsabet on her leg.
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She cried out and Varik turned to help her.
The guards were in an uproar, holding down tents, scrambling to calm the horses, to catch plates and bowls as they tumbled along the rocky ground. The fire was all but dead and the snow was so thick it was nearly impossible to see.
And then I realized Ada was answering my prayer. The gods were providing my cover.
I had to act now.
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223
CHAPTER 21
Ordalf was cold in my hand, but a strange thrill of power raced through me when I touched it, a thrill that almost felt like warmth. I fought my way across camp to where Prince Joren had been.
Snow was swirling so thick it was impossible to see more than an arm’s length in front of my face, but I moved quickly, squinting through the blinding whiteness, praying to find the prince before Leif found me.
The wind shrieked, and I covered one ear with my free hand to block it out.
I slipped and collided with someone. I grabbed his arm and then dropped it.
It was Leif.
He regained his footing. Before I could find my balance, his knife swung at me.
I lunged and thrust Ordalf through his chest.
Our eyes met.
His body fell forward.
I looked down at my hand, shocked at the knife in Leif’s chest, and pulled my arm back.
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His body landed with a thump.
I stared as blood stained the snow, leaking red into the blizzard, like Ada’s blood in Evella.
Someone rushed past us in the storm but didn’t stop or notice.
I fell to my knees and vomited right there before I staggered away.
There were guards everywhere shouting commands that were tossed away on the wind, asking for help holding down tents and horses.
I stumbled into one of the boulders.
I had killed a man. With my own hands.
Someone would find him. Soon.
I realized I was holding Ordalf in plain view of anyone who came close enough to see me. Blood covered the blade. I couldn’t think what to do with it. So I tucked it under my cloak and was surprised when my other hand, stretched out in front of me, touched the warmth of a horse’s rump. I thought I was near the fire.
Domhnall could be attacking right this moment and we would never hear the cries of the dying above the howls of the wind.
I passed three dark shapes that turned out to be guards.
One shouted, “What are you doing out here? Get inside!”
I nodded and turned away.
And then Prince Joren was there, right before me. His cloak billowed in the wind. His hair was covered in snow. He grabbed my arm and he shouted, “Mira! Get into a tent!”
I pulled Ordalf from beneath my cloak and his eyes widened.
I raised the knife.
He stepped back and stumbled.
He fell, further than the ground, his arm clutching mine. He pulled me down with him.
225
My knees hit the ground and I saw that I was on the edge of the ravine. And then I fell, tumbling through the air, knocking against rocks and branches and falling further.
I landed hard on my back. My head whacked into the ground so hard my teeth shook.
I was paralyzed, unable even to breathe.
Whiteness was complete. All sounds were gone. Rushing filled my ears.
My body ached for breath.
My chest heaved up and air rushed in. I gulped it like water. In. And out. And in.
