Have faith, my chosen.
The voice was cool and sweet in the back of Hanne’s mind, like frozen cream. It was Tuluna’s voice, and every time the Numen spoke to Hanne, a sense of pride washed through her. Numina did not speak to people anymore—they hadn’t for thousands of years. But Tuluna had chosen her to end this war. Tuluna had chosen her to speak with. Not even the most devout grand priest could say the same.
You have done well to set our plan into motion. Soon, all of Salvation will bow to you—will tremble before you.
A small shiver of excitement worked through Hanne.
“The castle is a sight to behold.” Rune set his fork beside his plate and looked at her, his handsome face tense with thought. Hanne hoped he didn’t hurt himself too much; she still needed him to make an heir. “Though not conventionally beautiful in the way you’re used to,” he went on. “Solspire is quite remarkable in that regard.”
Hanne and Lady Sabine traded another knowing look.
Gaudy, Rune meant. Garish. Those were the words he’d used in a note written to his parents, sent from his room in Solspire. Hanne’s people had intercepted the dove, copied the note, and resealed it so cleanly that the Highcrowns would never know the difference.
“But I hope that you find a certain charm in Honor’s Keep,” Rune continued. “We like to think it’s impressive, especially when seen from a distance.”
Presumably it was most impressive from a distance because there was no hiding its flaws up close. “I’m sure it’s wonderful.” Hanne had endured many hardships in her life. Honor’s Keep would be nothing compared to the trials of her childhood.
Finally, the plates were cleared away and people began to drift back into groups of their own countrymen. Hanne looked up just in time to see Devon Bearhaste vanish into the woods.
Good. He meant to keep his word.
She stood and crooked her finger for Nadine. “Accompany me on a walk, cousin,” she said when Nadine hurried forward.
“I’d be honored to join you as well, Your Highness.” As much as Hanne hated to admit it, Rune had a warm way of speaking, the kind of tone that threatened to disarm her with its sincerity. She wouldn’t buy it, though. It would take only one mistake—one inkling that she had anything planned—and she and Nadine were dead. (Probably everyone else, too, but they were less important to Hanne.)
“It’s so kind of you to offer, but we won’t be long. We only need to stretch our legs.” She gazed up at him, disarming him in turn: round blue eyes, upturned nose, and pink lips tipped into a sweet smile.
He took in the sight of her. It was the one thing they’d appreciated about each other right off, the pleasing nature of their faces. “Shall I send Captain Oliver after you?” he asked, speaking of her personal guard from Embria.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m certain the forest around the Brink Way is quite safe, and we shall keep very near.” She smiled again, and if there was any suspicion in him, it didn’t show.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll await your return.”
And that was it. Hanne and Nadine swept off into the Deepway Woods, which bordered the road.
They walked in easy quiet for a few minutes, listening to birdsong, feeling the heat of late summer push between the broad leaves, watching rabbits and other small prey dart away from them. There wasn’t much of a path here, just a narrow deer trail, but Hanne liked finding her way through the brush: minding where to step, avoiding getting her dress torn, and keeping track of what direction they were actually going in. It was a lovely day, now that they weren’t trapped in the carriage.
A cardinal flew across the path before them.
A second later, an identical cardinal flew across the path in an identical way.
Shivers forced themselves up Hanne’s spine. “Did it—”
The cardinal dove again. Then again. Above, clouds began to darken the sky, and a sour smell flooded the woods.
“Yes, it did.” Nadine’s voice trembled.
Birdsong ceased as a crack sounded farther up the path.
Nadine’s eyes were wide with fear. “Hanne, we should go.”
The cut on Hanne’s fingertip—the one from the onyx cat—began to throb. “Not until we have those names. Bearhaste is waiting for us out here. We’re risking everything—”
Ahead, a man screamed. Birds fled overhead, and before Hanne thought better of it, she was running toward the noise.
“Hanne, wait!”
But Hanne was ducking, darting between the trees, only stopping once she came to a small clearing. Sweat crawled down the back of her neck as she scanned the space.
There. A depression in the grass.
Her hand did not tremble as she bent and drew her dagger from her boot sheath. Somewhere in her wake, she could hear Nadine following, and she knew she should feel guilty for leaving her cousin behind, but Lord Bearhaste’s information was vital.
She crept toward the flattened grass, the source of the putrid odor, but as soon as she heard the low drone of flies clouding over the shape, she knew it was too late.
It was Lord Bearhaste. Dead. No, not just dead, but mutilated, his body torn open and strewn about in pieces, like a toy with all the stuffing ripped out. Blood stained the grass around him, and mold grew on his withering skin—what remained of it.
She should be sick, and indeed, the smell alone tested her gag reflex, but Hanne knelt, trying not to touch the sprouting mold as she used her dagger to move the man’s coat toward her. Perhaps he’d written down the names.
“Hanne, what are you doing?” Nadine’s voice came from the edge of the clearing. “What is that?”
“Stay back,” Hanne warned, still maneuvering the torn jacket. At last, a pocket. “Don’t come any closer.” Nadine, sweet Nadine, did not need to see this mess. But what had done it? He’d screamed only minutes before. How had all of this happened? The mold, the rot, the flies?
What if the same thing happened to them?
Paper crinkled in the dead man’s pocket. Hanne’s knuckles went white around the dagger hilt as she stabbed the cloth and dragged it closer, pulling the bisected ribcage nearer. The turncoat may be dead, but if his work remained, she could use it.
“Hanne?” Fear filled Nadine’s voice.
“I’ll be right there.” Hanne shook her head, trying to dislodge the flies that settled on her face. If the man’s scream had carried to the road—and that seemed possible—then dozens of soldiers would be pouring into the woods, from her side and Rune’s. She couldn’t afford to be found over the body. She had only moments.