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Chapter 31
Now
Diamonds covered the night sky, the sight carving another slice from my soul. Darkness still cloaked the earth as my eyes focused on the treetops pinned against the sky. I had lost consciousness from the pain, and as my lungs found their breath, I braced myself for that pain to resume.
I remained on my back, willing all the air out of me before slowly breathing in, my chest rising beneath my bloodied gown.
There was no pain.
I was dead. Or dreaming. Or delusional.
My hand found my cheek, still crusted with blood, but no longer swollen. I wiggled my toes wildly as I realized the agony of my broken foot was gone. I clutched at my thigh, poking and prodding beneath the ruffles, relieved that the diadem was still there and finding only a puckered indent where an arrow had been just hours ago.
I shot up, wrapping my arms around myself, jabbing my fingers into the ribs that had been cracked like twigs. I let the air flood into me, filling me so that there was no room for disbelief, no room for doubt.
Dead, dreaming, or delusional. Those were my only options. Afraid my senses would awaken and cripple me again, I stood, testing my balance. I waswhole. I could move, I could breathe, I could think.
I could think.
Shit. What the hell had I done? Had I been so deluded by pain that I decided this was a good idea? Pretending to be a slave to leechthorn…for what? What was my plan when I was brought before King Umfray’s mad brother, Kauvras?
I took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of my body restored. As far as I knew, the guards were still none the wiser to my mental state. No one had questioned me, no one had looked in my direction a second too long. And Vorkalth said he’d never seen the leechthorn fail on the first inhale…so there’s no way he would even consider the possibility that the second didn’t work.
The atmosphere lightened and I could tell dawn was close to breaking. I stood, stepping over sleeping prisoners, past barely-conscious soldiers, shuffling to the edge of the woods to relieve myself.
I rose to turn back to camp when a twig snapped in the forest. My heart jolted, panic immediately rising in my gut as I spotted a figure between the trees. He was tall, each step careful, and…he was wearing a ram’s head mask. Miles. What the hell was he doing so far into the forest? Surely he wouldn’t need to wander so far off simply to relieve himself. What could be worth the risk of being mauled?
I turned away. It was neither my business nor my problem. My back burned with the feeling of eyes watching me, the hair on my neck standing up. Turning back around, Miles had disappeared into the forest.Somethingtold me not to go back to camp.Somethingwas urging me to follow Miles. Maybe it was the shock of waking up free of pain. Maybe the leechthornwasgetting to me.
If Larka was here, she’d surely go after him, not a lick of fear in her mind as she entered the land of beasts. “You worry too much,” she’d tell me. I remembered Ingra’s words about the Onyx Pass, my heart thudding against my chest as Miles moved further and further away. But what did I have to lose if I were going to die anyway?
I stepped as lightly as I could, yanking up the crusted ruffles of my gown, each footfall calculated to avoid dried leaves and loose rocks. I couldn’t believe I was walking without pain, without a limp. His figure materialized in the distance again as I gained ground. He walked deeper into the woods, further up the mountain. The sun broke over the peaks, watery light warming the earth.
Suddenly he vanished from sight. I quickened my pace to find myself on the lip of a large valley, the clearest stream I’d ever seen weaving a lazy path through the grassy landscape.
And there was Miles, walking down the slope, mask glinting in the early morning light. A tunic and trousers had replaced his leathers. I crouched behind a small boulder, waiting until he cleared the other side of the valley so I could cross, but when he reached the stream, he stopped. He sat on a stone and bent to untie his boots, tossing them to the side. He then stood and began to unbutton his shirt and–
Oh,Saints.He was going to bathe in the stream. He pulled the tunic over his head, a massive divot of a scar on his right shoulder. Tattoos covered his entire left shoulder, though I couldn’t see what they were from this far away.
My cheeks flooded red as he reached for the waistband of his pants. What the hell was I thinking? I needed to leave. I had no choice but to make the trek through the woods back to camp all alone. I turned myself away slowly to lean against the boulder.
A pair of hollow, deep red eyes stared directly into my soul.
Nostrils flared just inches from me, the slits expanding and contracting silently. Two massive tusks jutted from its jaw. Teeth protruded from its mouth, each as long as my hand. The scars… GoodSaints, the scars zig zagged up its jagged back, cutting valleys through the coarse, wiry hair that covered a bony spine. It had to be at least my height on four legs, each ending in hooves the size of a dinner plate. It was a nightmare incarnate.
It stared down its snout at me, eyes the color of freshly spilled blood assessing its prey. I had no way out with my back against the boulder.
Something clattered from behind me, a sound like metal on stone, and the beast’s gaze strayed, narrowing on something in the distance. It leapt clear over me, over the boulder, and bounded toward the riverbank.
Toward Miles.
Still masked — and thankfully still wearing trousers — he whirled toward the hoofbeats and lunged for the dagger he had dropped on the stone. An ear piercing roar split the air and I wasn’t sure who it came from as man and beast collided. The animal wasmassive,charging and snapping its jaw, but Miles was quick on his feet, evading every rush. He swung his dagger, catching the monster across the side with a shallow gash. Black blood began flying, and the beast seemed to swell with anger, growing stronger, more formidable. It backed Miles closer to the river, the soldier handling the dagger like it was simply an extension of his arm.
A stone. He tripped on a fucking stone as the beast pushed him back toward the stream. His head slammed into the water then the stony streambed below, and I swore I felt the impact inside of me. His dagger flew from his hand, landing in the water behind him. The beast approached Miles slowly, hooved foot pawing the ground in agitation. Miles shook the impact from his head, trying to keep it above water.
But it was too late. A massive hoof came down on Miles’ chest. The beast paused, almost seeming to revel in Miles’ spastic movements as its hoove pressed harder. Miles was punching and tearing and ripping at its flesh, fighting to keep his head above the shallow water.
The dagger. I still had the dagger strapped to my leg. I had the fucking dagger on my leg!
