Leena’s stricken gaze flashed in my mind, warring with the image of a bloodied Kost. I buried both beneath years of training and the reminder that I still had an active bounty on her head as I fingered the smooth inked-on scythe on my wrist. Getting close wasn’t an option. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t get too attached.”
Ozias relented and relaxed back. “All right.”
“We should be arriving any minute now.” Kost brushed invisible dirt off his jacket and nudged Calem’s dangling foot from across the aisle. “Get up.”
“Hrrrrmm?” Calem stifled a yawn before doing a quick head count. “Where’s Leena?”
“Bathroom.” Ozias cracked his neck and stood, pulling out the duffel bags one by one.
Late-afternoon sun slanted through the windows. The sprawling city of Wilheim had disappeared, leaving a vast rolling wilderness. Grassy plains stretched into a horizon of forests and mountains, peaks topping out against the clouds to the south.
The metal bathroom door slid open and Leena emerged, eyes dry. Her unfocused gaze found Ozias before she nodded once, gripping the handrail a few feet away.
I straightened the cuff of my tunic. “We should stay in Eastrend tonight and set out first thing in the morning. No use trying to make ground now only to camp in a few hours.”
“Agreed. I’ll search for a mount dealer right away.” Kost stood as the train slowed, a shrill whistle signaling our approach.
“See you boys at the inn.” Leena’s words bit the air, and she turned without another sound, slipping through the doors the moment they parted.
I made a move to follow, but Calem leaped into the aisle. “On it.”
“This ought to be fun.” Ozias shrugged past, duffel bags smacking into the backs of seats.
“C’mon.” I rested my hand on Kost’s shoulder, and he tensed beneath my touch. “Let’s go find the mount dealer.”
Seven
Leena
From the window of my room in the Braying Donkey, I watched Noc and Kost haggle with the only mount dealer in town. Corralled in a large stable built out of tree trunks and gated in with wood fencing, mounts kicked up dirt while munching grass. Through the floating dust, I made out a few generic horses and a handful of Zeelahs. I prayed they coughed up the extra bits for the latter.
Once wild magical beasts, Zeelahs had roamed the plains across Lendria. Twenty hands tall with the frames of deer, they had tan hides with thick white stripes across their backs. Nestled between oversize ears, a morganite stub cast a faint peach glow across each of their ivory manes. They were hardier than horses, even though the magic had been bred out of them over the years. If we took the horses instead, our two-day trek would stretch into three. Maybe four. Which meant less time dedicated to finding and taming the Myad and more time with these assassins. A predicament I did not want to face.
Turning my back on the outside world, I stared at a more immediate concern—our shared room. Eastrend was a logging town. Bordering on Lightwood Forest, its primary export was wood, and only a few hundred locals lived here. They survived off game from the forest and fresh vegetables grown in the few farmland plots on the outskirts of town. Buildings were sparse. It wasn’t exactly lively, and because most only visited Ortega Key by taking a scenic and much costlier route via ship, lodgings weren’t a high priority. The inn was a mere two stories with half a dozen rooms, only one of which was available.
Supposedly, it slept six.
My eyes traveled over the two sets of bunks and a floor-bound mattress covered in calfskin hides and down blankets. I sank into the bottom mattress of the first bunk bed, and the springs creaked beneath my weight. Arms spread wide, I could graze both opposing bunks with my fingertips. Shiplap with black swirled patterns ran horizontally along the walls. Candlelit iron fixtures clung to either side of the door, casting a flickering light that made shadows dance at my feet.
Those shadows.I couldn’t shake the way they clung to Noc. If he wasn’t so damn menacing, he’d be attractive. I’d swear he’d peeked at my soul on the train, the way his obsidian eyes burned right through to my core. He knew pain, that much I could tell. There was a level of understanding in his gaze that couldn’t be faked. Certainly he’d done things, horrendous things, as an assassin. Did he regret them? He didn’t show any reservations about his role as the leader of Cruor. So what was it? What had he suffered that made it so easy for him to recognize that pain in me? Whatever it was, it hadn’t lasted. That same gaze had gone cold once I’d reemerged from the bathroom, and I was instantly reminded of his power. Of the nonchalance he so effortlessly wielded. His beauty didn’t outweigh his danger, and I wasn’t in the game of putting myself in harm’s way.
The bedroom door swung open, Ozias and Calem strolling in. Ozias came to a full stop. “When he only gave me one key, I thought he’d already given you a separate room.”
I shrugged. “Nope. This is all we’ve got.”
Calem shut the door behind him and dropped his bag on the floor. “Dibs on the top bunk.”
Ozias rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, Leena.” He leaned against the wall, and the shoulders of his white tunic turned brown with dust.
“It’s all right.” I eyed the mound of blankets stretching across the mattress on the floor. Before anyone could claim it, I slid off the bed and dropped into the pillows.
“Here.” Ozias flipped over the tags on each bag before finding one with my name on it and setting it before me. “I don’t know what Kost packed, so whatever you do, don’t blame me.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“No sweat. I’m going to find the bathroom and clean up.” Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he left.
“You know, sharing rooms ain’t all that bad.” Calem winked and yanked off his tunic in one fell swoop. Heat traveled from the back of my neck to my cheeks at the display. The sun god had blessed him. Even with the low lighting of the wall-mounted candle fixtures, his tanned skin somehow glistened. Carved muscles flexed as he grinned and leaned toward me. “How about it?”
