The white was… cloth.
Amyu stared, disappointment washing over her. She scrambled to her feet, cursing her stupidity. It was the corner of a piece of cloth that had somehow gotten twisted into a thick cord, leading to a bigger bundle of cloth in the depths of the cave.
She blinked against the darkness. Cloth, stupid cloth that—
—was pure white.
Amyu stilled. Any cloth left for any time wasn’t going to stay that clean. That white.
And this was no cave. As her eyes adjusted, Amyu saw that the opening looked more like a hall of the castle, only wider and taller. More of a passage, not a cave. She took a step further in, but the deep shadows didn’t let her see more.
The bundle in the cave shifted.
Amyu jumped, her dagger out in an instant. A creature had gotten tangled and twisted in the cloth.
She took a few steps closer.
A moan, and more movement made it clear it wasn’t a creature. It was a human, a man. The cloth was twisted around him, holding his arms close to his body. The man struggled weakly against the restraint.
“Wait, wait, don’t move.” Amyu said as she knelt next to him. “I’ll help.”
A faint moan was the only response.
She hesitated, unsure as to what to do. Cut the cloth? Try to unwind him?
But the man was tightly wrapped, and heavy enough she’d never be able to untwist the cloth without his aid.
Amyu grasped the cloth at the top of his head, pulling it up and away. She carefully inserted the tip of her dagger, and slit the cloth down slowly.
Black hair, brown skin was revealed as the cloth parted.
The man tossed his head. Fearing to hurt him, Amyu dropped the dagger and tore the cloth to free his face. Her heart froze in her chest.
She knew this man.
Joden?
Joden of the Hawk?
Amyu rocked back on her heels, jerking her hands away.
Joden of the Hawk.
It wasn’t possible, and yet here he was. He was thin, his lips cracked and dry. It was Joden, but his face… he was clearly exhausted, starved, and unaware.
Amyu sucked in a hard breath in amazement and wonder.
She’d met Joden for the first time when he’d stood before the Council of Elders. He’d been so brave, so strong, defying Antas of the Boar and explaining his truths to the Council. For the first time, she had seen a new kind of courage, one that had nothing to do with the weapon in a warrior’s hands. Joden had radiated power through his words and his truth.
Seeing that in him had given her the courage to defy her Elders and their command to kill the Warprize. Amyu had faked the attack and protected the Warprize with her own body as the tent around them erupted in chaos and violence.
But how had Joden come here? Last she’d known he was on the Plains, with Simus of the Hawk, about to undergo Singer Trials.
Joden’s mouth moved, bringing Amyu back to the moment. The sound was faint, and there were no words. He was singing.
“Joden?” Amyu reached out to cup his cheek.
Cold. Stone-cold. Thin, and his normally rich brown skin was pale. His lips were parched and dry, his eyes closed.
