Page 128 of Bride of Ash & Dust

No, traveling to Vsenrog is too risky. I have to trust Petrys, to follow his instructions, crazy as they sounded.

I just have to keep Lilias alive until we get there.

I pull my wife onto my lap, as best as I can manage, at least, and hold her while her body rips itself apart from the inside.

Chapter 71

Zarek

MAKE IT LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT

At some point, I must have drifted off to sleep. My head jolts up, and I blink in the darkness. My body aches, and my bruised ribs are absolutely screaming at me. Lilias rests against my shoulder, breathing evenly.

And the carriage isn’t moving. I’m dimly aware of sounds coming from somewhere nearby, muffled music, and an occasional burst of laughter. My fingers wrap around the hilt of the rusty dagger I stole from the king of Marion’s abandoned hunting camp.

“Fuck this,” the carriage driver mutters from just outside the door. “I ain’t getting paid enough to ride through the night.”

There’s a shrill wrap of knuckles against the wood. Lilias jumps, then gasps.

“You still alive in there?” the driver asks.

“I— Yes,” Lilias replies. “Yes. I’m fine.”

There’s a snort from the other side of the door.

“Good,” he says. “Look, uh, don’t scream, okay? It won’t end well for you if you do.”

Lilias clears her throat. “Fine,” she agrees.

There’s silence, and then the carriage rocks as the horse ambles forward. A moment later, we hear the carriage driver asking someone to feed and water the horse, and not to open the godsdamned carriage under any circumstances. The carriage sways as the driver jumps off, then rocks again as the horse clops forward. I pull my dagger from its sheath.

The windows are nailed shut, but once the carriage stops moving, it’s fairly simple to work the edge of my blade beneath the nails. The hum and clatter of conversation is louder now, and mixed with the sounds of horses, it all creates enough background clatter to obscure the sound of the nails slowly squeaking out of the wood.

When I’m finally able to open the window, my heart sinks.

We’re in the middle of the courtyard of the King’s Crossing Inn, near the Vsenrog border. This is one of the largest border inns, and it’s clearly well used right now. We’re one of a dozen carriages lined up at the hitching post. Crowds of people stand around the courtyard, laughing and drinking, or caring for the horses and carriages. I even see a handful of Vsenrog soldiers leaning against the wall of the stables.

“Fuck,” I mutter, sinking back in the seat.

Lilias turns to me with wide eyes.

“We’re surrounded,” I admit, as Lilias leans over me to peer through the window.

She braces herself against the wall of the carriage, then leans forward until her mouth is almost pressed against the front.

“Chestnut,” she whispers. “Hey, Chestnut!”

The carriage rocks, and the horse pulling us snorts. Lilias makes a strange sound, a kind of clicking deep in the back of her throat.

The carriage jolts backward as the horse stamps the ground. Cries erupt from the courtyard. Lilias makes that clicking sound again.

“Hey, control your horse!” someone yells.

The horse pulling us whinnies, and the carriage lurches back and forth.

“Calm now,” says a woman’s voice. “Easy now.”

I watch through the window as a woman approaches with a rope in her hand. The horse snorts, and then the carriage rolls forward as the woman leads us past the stables.