Page 8 of Embers of Ruin

“He seems to disagree.”

“Well, he can die disappointed.”

That earns me a short laugh—a real one. I hate that I like the sound of it.

“Tell me,” I continue, narrowing my eyes. “Are you an Acolyte?”

“No.”

“A former Acolyte?”

“No.”

“A criminal?”

“That depends on who you ask.” His grin widens, and I get the distinct impression he enjoys being difficult.

I groan. “You are the single most frustrating person I have ever met.”

“And yet here you are, still talking.” He says the last part so smugly that I briefly consider putting my dagger through his foot. The thought is surprisingly appealing.

We continue deeper into the forest until the village lights disappear behind the thick brush. Wild branches snag my cloak, tugging at me as if they are trying to keep me. I rip the fabric free and trudge onward. I'm sure my scowl says exactly how much I'm enjoying this.

The cold wind cuts through the treetops, carrying fragments of shouted orders. Their voices only fuel my desire to move faster. Without warning, my foot slips on a patch of ice hidden beneath a layer of snow. I suck in a breath as I catch myself on a tree, squeezing my eyes shut to keep from crying out in pain. The man pauses, waiting just long enough for me to straighten before moving again.

“If you can’t keep up, tell me. I’ll carry you. You look light enough.” A wide smile spreads across his face and the sight makes me want to punch him. I don’t even know him. Why is he getting under my skin?

“I can keep up,” I snap indignantly, brushing past him and his outstretched hand. “And I don’t need you to carry me.”

That is an absolute lie. My legs tremble with exhaustion, and I’m fairly certain I’m on the brink of dehydration, but I refuse to show it. I don’t want to give this man the satisfaction of knowing how exhausted I am—or how badly I need a break and a flask of water.

We cross a low ridge where moonlight breaks through the canopy in thin silver lines. For a moment, the world seems suspended and quiet, holding only the sound of our breathing as it fogs the air.

“What’s your plan?” I whisper, turning to look at him.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m going to get you beyond the palace’s reach.”

“You’re not answering my actual question.”

“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”

I open my mouth to argue but branches crack behind us and we freeze. A silhouette moves near the ridge, then another. Soldiers. Their armor glints faintly as they sweep torches across the trees, speaking in low voices.

His hand settles on my shoulder. “This way. Quickly.”

He guides me down a narrow ravine carpeted with frozen leaves, our footsteps muffled as we descend deeper into shadow. The air grows warmer here, and my skin prickles at the sudden shift in temperature.

I risk a glance over my shoulder. “Do you know for certain they have Acolytes with them?”

“It’s a strong possibility,” he says quietly.

My stomach sinks because I know if Acolytes are among them, I’m doomed.

We follow the ravine until it opens into a small clearing. The forest is denser and the trees are taller here, their twisted roots curling through the frozen earth like talons.

“Keep going,” he growls, giving me a slight push. “The thicker the woods, the harder we are to track.”

I don’t protest this time, I simply keep moving. We push forward, weaving through clusters of pine and skeletal trees stripped bare by winter. My breath fogs in front of me and my lungs burn with the cold. My reluctant rescuer keeps a steady pace, glancing back occasionally to ensure I haven’t fallen behind. I briefly consider running. Then remember I have absolutely no idea where I am.