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Ana couldn’t believe the koldyna was speaking so openly in public. But no heads turned toward the sound of her threats. No concerned villagers stopped to help. “You need Niko.”
“I need either Nikooryour father. I don’t need both, do I? When you die, the designation of heir will pass to your brother. But ifhedies... Well, I’m not heirless, am I? Really, if you were thinking about this objectively, you’d realize I don’t needeitherof them because there will always be other Wynters.”
“If something happens to Niko and me, my father will see you for what you are.”
“Will he?” Magda’s shoulders lifted in a chuckle. “You’ll never know the answer yourself.” She reached forward and wrapped one of her talon-like hands around Ana’s cloaked arm. “You’ve done so well lately, Ana. It would be a shame to upset me just as I’m beginning to tolerate you.”
Magda stepped backward. Darkness pooled in her dead irises. “Keep the raven’s energy up. He’ll need it for what’s coming.” She laughed. “And if you’re lying to me about that tavern boy, you’ll find I will deliver quite swiftly on my promise to serve you his heart for supper.”
“I’m... I’m not,” Ana stammered. She loathed herself more in that moment than ever before. Some warrior she was, unable to even form an unfettered sentence around the biggest threat her family had ever faced.
“Oh, and, Ana, you’ll find I’ve implemented some changes at Fanghelm when you return tonight.”
All the warmth in Ana plummeted straight into the cold ground. “What changes?”
Magda grinned. “The raven’s broth grows cold.”
Nessa didn’t come to the tavern that night. Tyr watched for her until dawn, working his shift in silent reflection.
But though he’d hoped to see his new friend, it was Ana taking up the bulk of his thoughts all night. He couldn’t unsee the fear in her eyes. The quake in her hands. The pure dread that had taken hold of her when her stepmother had found them talking.
And then the lie.We hardly know one another.He’d bristled at how easily the denial fell from her lips, but then he’d seen a glimmer of the truth behind it. The realization it wasn’t shame he was seeing in her but fright.
As Tyr served ales and cleaned mugs, he tried to piece together what little he knew of Ana’s family. Most of it was village fishwife gossip. Arkhady was a kind, doddering widower who had lost his eldest son to the Hunt and, in his apparent fear of losing his twins as well, had married a woman of unknown background who had come to Fanghelm looking for work. Many things were whispered about Magda, but little was actually known, and whenever Tyr had tried to ask Ana, she’d closed up and changed topics as quickly as wind whipping through an alleyway. She often spoke of her father and brother, but never Magda.
Tyr had always assumed her reluctance came from a place of grief. Losing her mother so suddenly had wounded Ana deeply. Another woman coming into her life, taking her mother’s place, had to sting.
But there was nothing about Ana and Magda’s interaction that seemed so easily explainable.
I’m going to bed,Addy signed from the other side of the bar.Rik and Pern are here. You should leave too.
I will.Tyr sighed and looked around. There was nothing left to do but go home. It was clear Nessa wasn’t coming.Be careful walking back. I heard whispers of an ice storm tonight.
Some springtide this is shaping up to be,she signed with a theatrical eyeroll and flounced away.
Rikard burst through from the back room. “Do you hate sleep, Tyr? Because it feels like you’re always here.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m leaving,” Tyr said distantly, his thoughts pulled in so many directions, there’d be no sleep awaiting him at the cabin.
Tyr took the longer route across his family’s land. The direct path was a five-minute walk, but if he looped around the field and through the edge of the forest, it offered almost twenty minutes of head-clearing distraction.
The old Tyr had learned to compartmentalize when he was overwhelmed. With only a touch of guilt, he called upon that buried part of himself. He memorized the soft blankety scent of snow yet to fall, the earthy pine wafting across the field on the back of a fierce wind, and the satisfying crunch of ice breaking under his stride.
When at last he reached the cabin, the tension had lifted from his limbs, and he was calmer than he’d felt in days.
He was going into the kitchen to pour himself a cider when he noticed two letters lying side by side on the table. They hadn’t been there when he’d left for work yesterday evening, which meant someone had left them during the night while he had been at the tavern. Even if he’d been keeping a lookout, the cabin wasn’t visible from the tavern.
Cider forgotten, Tyr went to check on the stash of letters. All were there, he noted with heavy relief, then grabbed the next two letters written by Paeris.
He tentatively took a seat and reviewed both the Vjestikaan translations and the two he’d retrieved written in Old Ilynglass. He slid them back into proper order and read all four before sitting back in his chair with a heavy exhale. Then he read them again and again, but they made no more sense the second or third time.
Tyr couldn’t reconcile the dark tone in Paeris’s words compared to the light, upbeat nature of Zofia’s responses.
Snippets of Paeris’s dire proclamations promised terrible danger.Mortain is up to something. I saw him speaking to someone, through a mirror, Zo. A mirror! My mother is scared, and my grandfather told me to be careful what I put in letters. Neither will explain themselves. I have the most peculiar, terrible feeling I’m being watched, and followed. You’re the only one I can tell about any of this. I was only worried about the poor Ravenwoods before, but now I fear for everyone I love. Please tell me there’s a way to stop this. But whatever you do, be careful, Zo. I’m so scared for all of us.
The contrast in Zofia’s responses was jarring.We’re having the most delectable springtide! Oh, how I wish you could see the blooms. Mother is making her famous tarts, and Father will not stop talking about them. I was just thinking you should come for a visit. The markets are full of all the best items right now, and it’s a treat every time I go into the village. Have you collected any new books lately?
He flopped back in his chair, rattling the uneven legs on the floor. Rikard leaped straight into the air.
