They’d all looked so broken as they shuffled forward. It wasn’t my actions that caused them to be bound together, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty as I restrained myself from interfering and stopping the procession.
The only good that could come from my interference wasmaybefreeing a couple of prisoners… if I got lucky. I might be able to free more if I revealed my lightning-bearer ability, which would ruin everything.
I would also throw the lives of those I loved into complete turmoil if I tried to do anything to help those poor souls, but it killed me to watch them and do nothing. If everything went well, we might be able to free them in the future.
I just hoped they survived until then.
Now, I tried to enjoy the excitement radiating from each new traveler. It had been years since so many in Tempest had experienced happiness, and I loved seeing it.
The sun was high in the sky when my mother wiped her hands on her apron and declared it was time for lunch. Scarlet and her family had gone to feed the horses and check on the foals while we cleaned the sheep pen. They would return soon.
My stomach rumbled as I followed her through the kitchen door; I couldn’t recall the last time I’d eaten, but my appetite was returning. I set the table while she made sandwiches for everyone.
As I set a water pitcher in the middle of the table, the thud of hoofbeats drew my attention. A lot of horses were coming toward us, and they were coming fast.
Uneasiness coiled within me as the hoofbeats came closer. I couldn’t see the road from our kitchen, but I was sure a large dust cloud filled the air as they approached.
The water in the pitcher sloshed against the sides, and the lemons within twirled about. The pots and pans hanging from hooks above the stove swayed and clattered as the ground shook from the horses.
There had to be dozens of riders out there. A chill crept down my spine, seeped into my bones, and iced my blood as I held my breath while waiting for them to go past.
Instead of continuing as I’d hoped, the horses stopped out front. I looked at my mother as terror clawed at my chest; the last time guards came here, they took her away.
I won’t let them do it again, and I don’t care what I have to do to stop it.
My mother set down the knife she was holding and started toward the hallway. I didn’t want to move or see what awaited us, but I couldn’t let her go alone.
Before she could leave the kitchen, I ran to catch up to her, and we walked toward the front door with all the enthusiasm of the amsirah who were paraded before us this morning. My fingers fisted as I resisted stopping her; she should return to the kitchen so I could deal with this, but she’d never allow it.
When we reached the front door, my mother stepped to one side, and I went to the other. We each peeked out the long, thin windows there.
My heart plummeted when I saw the contingent of king’s guards outside. There were so many I couldn’t count them all.
Half remained in the road, watching the horses, while the rest dismounted and came our way with the sheriff in the lead. They were most likely here to search the place, but I couldn’t shake the feeling they would take her again.
The coldness encasing me worsened when I realized that because I’d been so focused on Ryker and my earlier despair, I’d forgotten about the ruined pair of pants in the trash can in my room.
CHAPTERNINETY-SIX
Ryker
“It’s about time you returned,”my father said when a servant led me into his private solar.
I was far from in the mood to deal with his bullshit, but this had become our familiar song and dance whenever I made my return trips. He sat in his usual high-backed, plush red chair near the fireplace.
Magical flames danced within the hearth; their colors shifted from red to orange to blue and back again. It was the only light in the room, as shadows obscured most of it.
“Where have you been this time?” he inquired.
“Making my rounds through the whorehouses. I can’t have the ladies getting lonesome.”
He rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink and leaned back in his chair. With a wave of his fingers, he beckoned another servant from the shadows while I settled into the matching chair across from his.
The servant bent low so my father could whisper something in his ear. The man bowed before leaving the room.
“I suppose you’ve heard about the king being robbed,” my father said.
I leaned forward and poured myself a glass of cartha. “I’ve heard the rumor.”
