Page 13 of Blood & Claw

But none of that mattered now.

Kayla was gone.

What was she supposed to do?

She could race up to the broch and alert the Fort Guard.

Never involve the king’s men, Kayla’s voice echoed in her mind. She was suspicious of the man who ruled Braewall and those who served him. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t want to draw attention to her after-dark activities.

King Niall was away at present, visiting King Artair of Baldeen in the neighboring kingdom. Nonetheless, his steward ruled with an iron fist in his absence. All of them were the king’s minions. His spies.

No, she couldn’t rely on the steward or the Fort Guard to help.

She’d have to find Kayla herself.

The thought was absurd. She had no idea how to track kidnappers.

She hurried back indoors on shaky legs, as the beggar’s insults rang through the wynd behind her. Grabbing a leather satchel, she stuffed a few things into it. A bladder of ale. Some oatcakes and cheese. A fresh tunic and some leggings. She then tied a heavy bag of salt onto her belt; essential if she was going to be traveling after dark. However, her hands trembled, her fingers fumbling.

Gods. Was she up to this? Despite that Kayla had sheltered her, she’d always thought of herself as plucky. She’d wanted freedom, hadn’t she? She’d longed to test herself, to explore beyond Braewall. Now was her chance, yet suddenly, all she wanted was to bolt the doors and hide under the furs. The world was dark and dangerous, and she was ill-prepared for it.

Her belly cramped, and she clenched her teeth, quieting her panic. Coward.

Kayla was in danger. She had to go after her.

There was no question about it.

Kneeling by Kayla’s alcove, she dug under the furs and retrieved the weighty pouch of iron, copper, and silver pennies she kept there. Her mentor didn’t realize she knew about her hiding place.

Of course, she did.

She was about to race back out the door when she paused.

You won’t be back here … not for a while.

The intuition made her still.

Her heart thumped hard against her ribs as she moved through into the shop, nerves getting the better of her once more. She had no plan, no assistance, and no idea how she’d actually rescue Kayla. However, she couldn’t let those men leave the fort without following.

Even if she had no idea what she was doing.

Retrieving her mentor’s bone needles and pigments, she wrapped them in a leather parcel. She couldn’t leave home without the tools of their trade. What if someone broke in here while she was gone?

She glanced around the workshop then. It suddenly felt unfamiliar.

Small and empty without Kayla.

It was hard to think. Hard to breathe. All she could hear was her beating heart. It crashed through her skull like waves pounding on rocks. This almost felt as if it were happening to someone else. But it wasn’t. She couldn’t freeze or let panic take over.

And so, she stuffed the leather parcel into her satchel and slung it across her front. Then, she grabbed her lantern and went out, closing and locking the door behind her.

The Reek lay a short walk from the gates. Braewall’s poorest area crouched under the shadow of the craggy headland where the fort had been built. It was north-facing, which meant that during the bitter season, the slum never got any sun. The broch—a huge windowless building that resembled a massive beehive covered in turf—crowned the bluff, while the rest of the fort tumbled down the various levels beneath.

Emerging from the spiderweb of wynds, Ailsa set off across the market ground.

She felt slightly calmer now that she was in motion, reassured that she was on her way, at least.

She could do this.