Another body thumped beside me, followed by a small whimper. Recognition bolted through me, my whole body coming alive and tearing me away from thoughts of Renaud. “Dacia?” I whispered cautiously.
“Salomé,” she cried.
I rolled toward her, burying my blindfolded face into her back. I felt miserable and elated to have her so close—it was my selfishness that clung to every second with her, when she should be safe in the village. “I tried to give you time to get away.”
“I couldn’t run fast enough. What do they want?”
“I don’t know.”
We were silent, and the sound of horses and men and the smell of cook fires drifted around us.
“Did you see where they took us?”
“Their camp,” I whispered. I could escape, but what about Dacia? It would take all my power to bring her with me. My lies would be exposed, and she would see me as I truly was.A witch. She’d despise me. But how could I leave her behind?
As I turned these thoughts over in my mind, the soft thump of boots sounded closer. We both stiffened and quieted, Dacia pulling close to me.
No matter what, I was determined to protect her.
“Think the Baron sent them as spies?” a man’s voice said, low and thoughtful.
Us? Spies?
“If so, they were terrible ones. Thrashing about the forest like bleating calves.”
The other made ahmmphsound.
Suddenly, a large hand roughly pulled me up and ripped the cloth away, allowing me to face our captors.
They were the two bandits I had followed in the forest in what felt like an era ago. The green-eyed man crouched in the center of the low-slung canvas tent, watching me with that uncanny fox-like gaze. Off to the side were rough beds in some straw and a small table and stool. The one who spoke was the same massive mountain of a man who had been with him before. He hauled Dacia up beside me and took off her mask as well.
Dacia pressed her lips tight, lifting her chin without a sound, eyes shining with unshed tears. I was so proud.
“She’s a fiery one,” the big man said.
“Fiery?” I spit. “We are not sheep to be herded. You captured us!”
The bigger man looked suspicious, and I felt I could read each thought he had about me as it crossed his face, with time to spare. But the green-eyed bandit betrayed nothing. “What were you women doing so far out in the forest? With a soldier of the Baron, no less.” His eyes gleamed as he spoke.
“We were visiting an altar,” I said. My gaze automatically darted to the seam in the tent and the sliver of sunlit green woods beyond.
“I wouldn’t,” the man with the green eyes said softly. “Though you’re welcome to try.”
“Who are you?” Dacia asked. “Where have you brought us?”
The bandit stood, and with a tiny smile fixed in the corner of that sandy beard he replied, to me, not to her. “An altar? But you are naked. Was this a gathering of witches?”
I clutched at my borrowed cloak, my stomach dropping. I couldn’teven remember the lies I had told Dacia already. “I was waylaid …” I began, but trailed off.
“She is from another village. We are friends. She was meeting us there,” Dacia said. “We were at the shrine of the Way of Christ. There have been many missing women recently and we came to pray for protection.” Her blue eyes shone with innocence and purity, and I could tell the men couldn’t help but want to believe her. If she could talk us out of here, I wouldn’t have to reveal myself.
“The shrine of the Way of Christ? I have not heard of that one, though I am admittedly not a deeply religious man,” the green-eyed bandit said.
“It’s an old shrine in the woods, off the path. It has Christ at one of the Stations of the Cross,” Dacia said. “The old women in the village said to find it and leave our offerings and prayers for protection.”
The green-eyed man’s eyes narrowed, looking me over as if I were a sort of puzzle he was trying to unravel. The light in his eyes glowed so strong, I could have sworn they would burst into flames. “You are the resurrected prostitute from Riquewihr,” he said. “The one they say has been stealing away little girls. Why wereyouin the forest today?”
I swallowed, trying to hide how unnerved I was. “Who?”
