Amarande’s smile dropped. “I assure you he came in contactwith a Harea Asp. You are correct that the snake didn’t get a full bite—its fangs grazed his skin. Not a full shot of venom, but he’s feeling its effects.”
The other woman spoke—she was slightly older, with a few strands of silver sparkling in her dark hair. “I know of a healer who is very gifted. What will you give us to lead you to her?”
Here, Amarande needed to be careful. They didn’t have the antidote, so they would get no diamonds. The princess licked her lips, waiting for the right words to come.
“We have oats.” Luca was sloshing through the water now, holding out what was left of the small sack that had been the spark she needed to track him. He smiled at them, kind as always, then pulled out a few oats to prove the contents. “For your horses—or for your babies.”
Genius,Amarande thought. Diamonds were valuable here only for what they could purchase—multipurpose or hard-to-get items were at the top of that list. Oats satisfied both of those criteria, and Luca was cutting out the middleman.
The women eyed the oats and then each other. Finally, the second woman spoke again.
“For the whole bag, we can lead you to the Isilean Caravan, the home of the healer—gifted, very gifted—and her apprentice.”
The princess hesitated. Amarande didn’t want to waste time trying to find a nomadic city. That might take them in the wrong direction. And if they didn’t find the anti-venom there, it could be too late to get to Medikua Aritza at the Itspi.
And then of course there was her last run-in with a caravan. Which had not been pleasant.
But Luca was worth anything and everything.
Any decision she made from here on out would feel wrong, mostly because his life and her heart were riding on it.
The princess swallowed, unsure how to track a meandering city. Locating a caravan, let alone the correct caravan, wasn’t somethingKoldo or Sendoa had ever covered in her lessons. “How far is this caravan?”
“A couple of hours in the correct direction,” the younger woman said. “It is coming our way. We’re to meet it at the Hand, where it will settle for the night.”
Her best estimate was that there were still about fifteen hours of hard riding between them and the castle.
This was their best bet.
“Can you lead us there the shortest way possible? Please?” Amarande asked quietly, trying very hard to keep the hot desperation out of her voice, afraid it might scare them. Scare Luca. She wrapped a hand around his arm. “For him?”
The women looked to Luca, holding the oats out in front of his body while balancing on one leg. The golden color of his face had gone sallow, a clammy sweat cold over his brow.
The older one nodded. “We will lead you.”
CHAPTER
32
THEcouple of hours to the caravan turned out to be a much shorter distance than Amarande expected because of one thing—the women and babes rode, while the man and boy walked alongside. They couldn’t run, only trot slowly.
Frustration built within the princess as Luca’s fever raged further. After twenty minutes, she was nearly at her wits’ end. “Can one of you please ride ahead with us? I’d like to get my friend to your healer as quickly as possible,” she pressed the ladies, who turned out to be sisters.
Amarande hadn’t asked their names, but Luca had. Of course he had. She didn’t trust them enough to use them. Until the anti-venom was in hand, they hadn’t earned her trust. “We’re almost there,” was all one of the women said. No description of where the caravan was supposed to be. No general idea of timing. No nothing.
Luca placed a hand on the princess’s shoulder. She tilted her head and he leaned into her ear. “I’m fine, Ama. Let’s not test their goodwill.”
She didn’t believe him. His palm was clammy against her shoulder—its cool dampness seeping through the overheated lace where her neckline and sleeves met. His grip on her waist had loosened, too, and if there was a single reason she was okay with the pace, it was because she was afraid he’d fall off. He’d alsovomited up some—if not all—of the water and dried meat he’d had at their stop. This did not quell her serious concerns about dehydration. Every alarm bell she had was a-clang.
Ten minutes more and a disturbance in the sand fuzzed across the distance. The princess squinted and leaned against Mira’s neck for a closer look.
The caravan.
It stretched the full length of the horizon before them, snaking across the burnt earth in a southwesterly pattern. It was an entire city laid out in a line. Shops, taverns, service providers, vendors of all stripes, with you wherever you went. Like this, it was a much different creature than what she’d experienced the night before.
The princess pressed a securing hand against Luca’s weak grip at her waist and then dug her heels into Mira’s side. The horse shot out, a cannonball fired from the bow of a ship. Luca’s grip suddenly tightened and his body lurched forward into hers, his face pressed into her hair. He didn’t ask what she was doing—but their guides reacted.
“Hey! Wait!” That was from the man, who began running with his wife’s horse.
