Akemi had always told me I picked a direction and ran. He'd be laughing at me, right about now.
I'd fled from home without a plan, map, or supplies. At Tsuyan's walls, I'd recalled the need to eat and slipped into the barracks to grab a few things: hard bread, dried fish, and a waterskin.
I wasn't proud of it, but at least I hadn't been caught. My disguise had fooled the few souls I'd passed.
According to the map I'd taken, Kentoro wasn't far: two days' travel on horseback. I only knew one thing about the place: the loud, drunken Aenir lords came to celebrate Winter's Tide with us there.
Hopefully, I'd read the map correctly. This was my first time navigating the world outside my home.
Leaning forward on Arrow, I stared down the dirt road, through the veritable halls of thin, white trees. Snow covered their branches and piled at their roots. Wagon trails and hoofprints broke up the ice on the road, pointing to other travelers on this path, though I'd only crossed a single caravan.
Sleeping out here, alone with only snow for company . . . it had been incredible. The icy air had burned my lungs with every breath and whispered a new word.
Freedom.
Mother had always said I had an unnatural affection for the cold. Even the coldest winters felt like a soothing chill. Lying beside Arrow had been more than enough to keep me warm.
Clopping hooves and creaking wheels sounded up ahead. Ducking my head, I nodded as a wagon rolled past and breathed out in relief when its rider held up a hand in polite greeting.
When I looked up, I saw the city.
A frozen stream cut through the forest and plunged through a cluster of black, tightly packed buildings. They weren't any different from home—neat, orderly, unadorned. Simple wood painted black to match the eternal night.
Armored guards watched me from the ramparts. Keeping my head down, I led Arrow through the gates, past a pair of burning braziers keeping the guards warm.
Smoke drifted past my eyes, plunging me into my memories.
The assassins set the city of Tsuyan alight. Pillars of flame erupted near the southern gates, drawing eyes and men away from the city center. From their true target.
I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees in fear. Flames quickly engulfed the building, casting the world in a fuzzy red glow and black fog.
My eyes stung. I could hardly see, hardly breathe. Akemi was a smear of dark blue as he broke through my door and led me outside. A shadow blocked our path, just a vague shape in the chaos.
I watched their graceful movements. The cloak enveloping them. The quick steps of their feet as they danced away fromAkemi’s blade and extended their hand toward the fire. Light shimmered around their fingers, pulled from the flames.
A sword formed there, above their shoulder. And then it flew through the air, straight through Akemi’s heart.
Shaking my head, I breathed in the frigid air and returned to the present. My hands trembled; my head pounded.
I’d never forget it. Not the spell, nor the way its wielder had moved.
Narrow streets stretched before me—too slim to ride through. Leading Arrow off the road, I guided him to a small pasture by the river.
Tying him up with a sack of feed, I patted his flank and made my way into the city.
I spun in circles, reading the signs hanging from buildings and watching the people: women in long gowns and men in thick woolen tunics.
The Aenir nobles would still be here for the festival. Perhaps I'd be safer in their country than in my own.
Their diplomat looked at me the way only my brother had: like I had a voice. And they rodeelks. I passed a pair of the giant brown-hide beasts, their heads crowned by twisting bone. My hand drifted out to touch one, but I yanked it back as the elk turned its head and puffed warm air over my face.
Its rider, a fair-skinned, willowy woman in pale green chiffon, laughed. The sound made me smile.
Raising my head, I noticed a sign hanging from a nearby building: two goblets crossed over faded letters.
A tavern would be the perfect place to start. I could ask for news of Solhearts seen outside their capital.
Solhearts rarely left their vaunted city to mingle with the rest of us. If one had come through town, everyone would have taken notice.
