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“There are still many towns and cities that rely on the old system—some are just better than others at hiding it,” he replied, knee-high leather boots sounding against the broken remnants of cobblestone, which had been chewed up by horses’ hooves and pounded out by carriage wheels.
“Why don’t they convert to the new system?” I inquired, my hands gripping the saddle horn, the sway of the horse still somewhat unfamiliar.
“A system like that takes coin, and the people here don’t have it. The majority of Norwood lives in poverty,” he answered, his raven-colored hair appearing almost a dark blue under the orange gaze of the sun.
“Why is that?” I inquired, daring an inhale. The foul smell was starting to dissipate.
“Itwaspredominantly a Cursed community, and one of the first places the Crown started Cleansing. In some cases, entire families were wiped out, whether a direct result of the Cleansing itself or by losing the provider of the family. The impact of those losses, the removal of parental figures, has rippled into what you see today.”
“That’s terrible.” I surveyed the decrepit remains of the city as I mulled over his words. “You seem to know a great deal about Norwood. Did you grow up here?”
He tilted his head to the side, and it was just enough that I could see the slight upturn of those salacious lips. “No, Kitten, I did not. I grew up somewhere very far from here.”
“Does thisvery far from hereplace have a name?”
“It does,” he mused. But that’s all he offered.
By the time we returned to the house, it was late afternoon, and the preparations for our departure were well under way.
Just before the break of dawn, while Norwood slept and the twinkling stars still dotted the black sky, the seven of us stood outside, readying to leave.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked, Ezra’s warm, boney hands in mine.
Her milky white orbs shifted to the sky, pausing before she spoke. “This is not a journey for me to make, and my old bones would only slow your young ones down. I will be in the Cursed Lands, waiting for word of when you and Kaleb return.” Her hands slid from mine. Patting her pockets, she searched for something. I hoped it wasn’t another rock—she had already given me one for the journey. Victory chartered her smile as she bore down on a pocket inside her deer-skin coat, withdrawing two vials. “The green one is for sleep. I tested it out last night. Worked rather well. The orange, citrusy-smelling one loosens the tongue.” She placed them carefully in my hands. “The second one might have a few side effects,” she muttered to herself.
“Like what?” I asked, peering down at the two glass vials, their liquid sloshing from side to side despite my hand being perfectly still.
“Who knows.” She offered me a toothy grin, accompanied by a wink.
With her wooden cane in hand, the stain on the handle rubbed off from years of use, she bobbed it from side to side as she walked over to Ryker, following the sound of his voice as he spoke with Von.
Carefully, I wrapped the vials in a thin piece of linen. And even more carefully, I placed them in my saddle bag. My hand slid from the buttoned flap, moving on to stroke Lightning’s flank. She nickered in response, her tail not bothering to swat me away like she had done with Gray Beard. So far, the two of us were off to a good start.
I took a step back, taking her in.
Even though we had just gotten her yesterday, I could already see an improvement—proper nutrition apparently did wonders for a horse, although she still had a long way to go. I just hoped this journey wouldn’t be too much for her, but Ryker, who’d tended to her, claimed she was a strong-willed old girl and would be just fine.
A day into riding, and I was beginning to feel sorry for Lightning. Despite dropping the pace numerous times, she was having an increasingly hard time keeping up with the other horses.
Truth be told, I was struggling as well, although it killed my ego to admit it.
A dull ache in my back had started a few hours ago. Now? I nearly writhed in pain. I gathered the cracked leather reins in my right hand and massaged the ache with my left. It helped. A little.
Von’s white stallion sidled beside mine, instantly dwarfing my mare. He was a monstrous beast who had no business thinking he was a horse. Stacked with lean, powerful muscle, the horse, whose name I had yet to learn, matched his owner in stature and size.
I craned my neck, looking up at Von. His black hair was tied up in a tight topknot, a small braid forming at the base of his neck and falling over his shoulder. It was secured at the bottom by a thin strip of leather and a delicate white feather. Under the setting sun, it glistened like it had been sprinkled with flecks of shimmering gold.
Beautiful.
He caught my gaze and something inexplainable shifted between us. Something I had no words for. All I could do was feel. The force of it—a constant pull.
His obsidian eyes shifted, darting to my back.
Instinctively, I quit massaging and recoiled my hand into my lap—I didn’t want him to think of me as weak. But when his eyes flickered back to mine, I realized he already knew.
He pulled on his reins and the horse reared back, its magnificent mane swaying with the movement. Turning to the others, he said, “We will set up camp for the night. Thehorsesneed to be fed and watered.” His gaze slid back to mine, and he offered me a wink, extending his double meaning . . .Iwas the horses.
I scowled.
