Landing on the ledge, I tamp that gulf full of enough shadow to smother the pile of slumbering death and spin, shutting off my mind’s eye.
Refusing to look at the past again.
I lift my head, teeth chattering, body trembling.
I have to go.
Rolling forward onto skinned knees, I scoop water from the edge of the spring, using it to wash my face and legs and the bile from the ends of my hair. I remove the calico package from around my ankle and stand, wavering on unsteady feet.
My vision splits, collides. Splits, collides ...
I draw a deep breath and take one step toward the stairs, then another, until I reach the wall and can use it as a crutch. Tentatively, I begin the climb, legs shaking beneath my weight. But I push myself, feeling my body grow a little stronger with every inhale.
It’s not until I’m halfway up the chute that I realize Rhordyn’s shirt is ripped, exposing my right thigh and a long, fleshy wound that’s dribbling blood.
“Shit,” I mutter, glancing down the stairs, seeing a peppered trail of red everywhere my foot has been.
I’ll have to bind that before I can go anywhere.
I exit the stairwell and hobble down the hallway, every unsteady step bringing me closer to Rhordyn’s inevitable return.
If he finds me like this, I’m screwed. He’ll probably chain me to a wall somewhere and bark at me until I scream my truth.
My heart skips a beat, and I double my speed, shoving myself into a jog—teeth gritted, fists bunched.
Pushing past the zap of pain that lances up my leg every time it drives forward, I practically fly up Stony Stem, rounding on the echoes of an argument. Vanth and Kavan are at my closed door, doused in blood and rain, throwing profanities back and forth. Their disagreement comes to a silent crescendo the moment they notice me standing four steps below, and they almost leap out of their boots.
Seriously, worst guards ever.
Kavan looks me up and down, wide eyes settling on my bloody thigh. “What the hell happened to you?”
“You’re bleeding,” Vanth proclaims, as if it isn’t obvious. “And dressed in a man’s shirt.”
I ignore his righteous tone and shove past. “We’re leaving,” I rasp, pushing the door open, tossing the month supply of caspun on my bed.
“What?” they bellow as a clap of thunder shakes the tower, followed by a flash of light that etches everything in an eerie brilliance.
Ignoring the calamity the sky is unleashing, I wrap my hair in a knot on my head, using a large pin to prod it in place before rifling through my drawers for something to bandage my bloody thigh.
“Mistress!”
Kavan’s use of the title makes me bristle. In truth, I’d forgotten they were there.
“The boat,” I snip, tearing a strip free of a tattered shirt. “We’re sailing for the South. Now.”
Vanth snort-laughs, though the sound is barren of humor.
I spin. “Something funny?”
“Yes, actually. You’ve been stalling for the past few days, and you choosenowto leave? Have you even looked outside?” He points out the western window. “Only someone with a death wish would sail in that weather.” His eyes narrow. “Unless youwantour ship to sink ...”
“Why would I wan—” I shake my head, dismissing his condemning tone. “Look. We either sail now or you can return to the Bahari capital with nothing butthis,” I say, shoving my shackled wrist in his direction. “Because once Rhordyn gets back from his hunt, I’m stuck here. For good.”
My attention darts between the two, and I wait.
To be fair, these guys haven’t exactly been pushing to get me on that boat. If they take the cupla and go, Rhordyn’s theory will be proven correct—that Cainon was only in this to stir the political pot.
I’ll never live it down, but sailing off into an encroaching storm with a boat full of people I don’t know or trust would be the height of stupidity if I haven’t at least tested Rhordyn’s theory.
