It was a good thing she knew exactly how to turn off an Obedience Lattice.
Chapter Twenty-Three
She wanted this night to be over.
The rebels’ camp was miserable, tucked down the slope, on the lee side of a ridge. Four canvas tents stood in a rough horseshoe, their sides stiff with frost, and in the open middle, a small fire burned low in a pit they’d dug down to the dirt. Two carts sat drawn up at the open end of the horseshoe, half a windbreak and half a wall, loaded with rope, tools, and crates of supplies. The horses stood picketed off to one side, downwind, blanketed and stamping at the frozen ground. Snow had been trodden to brown slush around the fire. It was no place to spend the night, and Seraphina understood why Michael had given the sisters one hour to decide.
“There,” he told Rune, pointing at one of the tents. “Take this and tie her up.” He handed him a length of rope. “Check for weapons first.”
Rune set her down and reached behind her to remove her daggers.
“Boots,” Michael said.
“She doesn’t have anything in her boots,” said Rune, but knelt in front of her and patted her ankles and calves because he was compelled to obey.
“Good.” He took the daggers. “You are forbidden from talking to her.”
He gave her one long look, possibly wondering why she was so important and whether her kidnapping would get him what he wanted, then shook his head as if to remind himself he shouldn’t dwell, only push forward. He didn’t seem happy about his own actions; he did everything out of a sense of duty. Which, in Seraphina’s opinion, was misguided, but she’d come to learn even the most corrupted people thought their actions were for the right reasons.
She watched him walk to one of the carts and remove the tarp. Inside, there were four deer, recently slain if she were to judge by the steam that rose in the frigid air. Blood dripped in the snow.
“Thank you, Peter. These will do.”
Seraphina saw a man exit one of the other tents, followed by a boy. She rubbed her eyes before Rune pulled her arm back to secure her wrist, but still, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. That was Peter, from Langenbach, the tavern owner who’d hosted them in his home. And that was his older son, Hans. She remembered them well. They’d shared food and beer, spent hours by the fireplace, talking. Kaspar must’ve been with them too. He was the younger son, who’d given Seraphina Matteo’s journal.
Michael unloaded the deer one by one and carried the carcasses some distance from the camp. She heard the wolves growl and bark, then the sounds of wet, vicious tearing as they dug into their meal.
She shifted on the hard floor, her spine aching from the position Rune had tied her in. He’d done a good job. She could barely move. Now he was positioned outside with his back to her. The Obedience Lattice was right there, pinned to his cloak, between his shoulder blades. She had to admit that Michael wasn’t a bad strategist. What a shame he had… maybe another hour to live.
She should’ve been terrified, but she wasn’t. Even if Rune was not himself, there was no other place she’d rather have been. She’d gone through hell to find him. This time, she was going to keep her promise: nothing would come between them. Ever. No matter what it was, nothing would change what they had. Michael had the power to make him do gruesome things, but she knew it would all be on him, not on Rune. Whatever orders he carried out under the influence of that cursed lattice, he was already absolved in her mind and soul. She wished she couldtell him that. She saw how tense he was, how tight his shoulders were drawn. As he’d bound her, tears hadn’t stopped trailing down his cheeks, hot, salty drops hanging off his chin. He’d turned his back to her so she wouldn’t see his pain. Maybe he thought he was weak.
Seraphina felt rage boil inside her. How could they do this to him? She looked at the men and women milling about the fire, talking in hushed voices, patching up their wounds, and throwing Rune brazen glances. She breathed deeply through her nose. In and out. She would make them pay. She would show them what a stupid idea it had been to try and rob Saint Vivia’s Convent. And she didn’t care that it had been Michael’s alone. They’d chosen him as their leader. They followed him. Poor judgement had consequences.
A woman separated from the rest and stepped closer. She looked up at Rune and smiled, then met Seraphina’s gaze. The smile faded.
“I thought it was you,” she said, wiping her hands on her skirt and ducking into the tent. “But I wasn’t sure. You’re both different.”
Willa. She’d tried to chase them out of Langenback to save them from the bone fever. Instead, Rune and Seraphina had pulled apart the Pestilent Wheels that had poisoned their wells, created a new lattice that worked as an antidote, and saved everyone. Peter’s wife included, who’d been on her death bed when they’d arrived.
Willa studied her closely. Her gaze snagged at the corners of Seraphina’s eyes, where she knew faint scars were showing.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Seraphina. “Why…” She motioned at her restraints. “Why did Michael order you bound? I should talk to him. I will tell him what you and Rune did for us.”
Seraphina leaned forward, begging her with her eyes.
Willa frowned.
Rune bent over to poke his head inside the tent. Seraphina saw that he wasn’t crying anymore, but his face was sallow. He looked sick, though she knew it was impossible for him to be so.
“She can’t speak,” he told Willa.
Seraphina opened her mouth so Willa could see the stub of her tongue.
Willa’s eyes went wide. She touched Seraphina’s cheek in an attempt at comfort.
“You poor thing. Who did this to you?”
Seraphina saw Rune was about to answer, and she shook her head violently. They knew Willa, and normally, they would’ve trusted her, but the fact that she and Peter were part of Michael’s group of rebels gave Seraphina pause. Willa could help them, for old times’ sake, or she could make things worse.
