Rocks pelted my stomach, roughening each slow breath.
Knowing I’d get nothing else from her, I inclined my head and made to leave when the locks clicked into place over the door. “Payment.”
“But I did not have my fate told,” I needlessly said, my fingers curling into my palms. Of course, she’d try to take something from me. No one stepped foot inside her den without leaving something of themselves behind.
“But you did. It may just take you longer to understand what the stars have planned for you.”
My eyes widened, then shut, and I was thankful my back was turned so she couldn’t see. “I’ll send you any coin you desire.”
“You know it is not coin I desire, my bright flame. Ten drops should suffice.” I whirled to face her, my chest hollowing when she tapped the large black goblet upon her golden desk, then pushed the small knife toward me. “Ready when you are.”
Tempted to close my eyes, I dug the point into the palm of my hand, ignoring the sting as I made a fist. The sorceress’s gaze was not upon the blood falling drop by drop into the goblet but on my face.
Her head tilted when I caught her eyes, and her lips curved briefly, too brief to be considered a smile, her ruby eyes darkening a shade. “You look just like her.”
Taken aback, I asked, “Who? My mother?”
The sorceress snatched the goblet, and I was glad, for I’d lost count of how many drops I’d given it. “Do give her my warmest regards.” She rose and twisted away from her desk, the heads of her snakes lifting.
Not wanting to see what she had planned for my blood, I hurried out of her hovel.
“What in the stars has gotten into you?” Linka waited to whisper at me until we’d crossed back through the square, her once pink face now white. “You do realize who that was.”
“Of course, I do.” I lifted my hand, the cut already healing, for emphasis.
Stunned, Linka waited until we’d breached the waning crowds lining the street outside the shoe store. They were holding a sale—likely worried their creations would be spoiled should war creep closer to our doors and wanting to gather whatever coin they could. “Well, what did she say, then?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” she almost squeaked. “You do not visit the sorceress and leave with nothing.”
Sighing, I blew some loose tendrils of hair from my face and righted the hood of my cloak. Even with it on, some still recognized me, but by the time they did, I was wading past them, too fast to chase down and greet or bow to. “She couldn’t tell me my fate,” I acquiesced. “She’s already handed it to someone else.”
Linka’s arm tightened around mine as we climbed the small, steep hill to the castle gates, its moonstone rising high above the city and farms beyond. Another sun to blind us all. “Who would come looking for your fate?”
“I don’t know, but probably no one,” I said, having already wondered the same thing myself. A nod to the guards, and they let us in. “Whoever it was merely came looking for their own.”
Leaving her inside the foyer to tend to the rest of her duties, I wandered to the library on the second floor, hoping the crackling of the fire and the treasure trove of books with their worn lettered spines would calm the rising wave within me.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t. Placing the ancient history text upon the marble table, I gazed at the silver gilded portrait of my father and mother with Joon, my late brother. Their lips were slightly curved, but all three sets of eyes were smiling.
Another portrait, sans Joon and instead with a tiny me, sat upon the opposite wall.
As I looked at the paintings, at our similar gold eyes and hair, I tried to ignore the empty gazes—the lack of smiling eyes other than my own—and counted back the hours since my father had left.
The hollowing inside me yawned wider.
Soon. He’d return soon. The journey to Errin was a two-day ride unless he’d chosen to travel through the human lands and deliver the prince and what remained of his entourage straight to the king and queen’s door.
A thud came from upstairs, followed by the rare sound of my mother shouting at someone. Whispers sounded from down the hall, murmured concerns and demands between the staff.
My eyes fell closed, the room suddenly too hot, too sweltering and small.
“Not now,” I groaned between clenched teeth.
It didn’t listen. I didn’t listen.
I didn’t run. Determined to beat the instinct this time, I walked, and when I reached the northernmost woods, I realized too late that I couldn’t give in to it if I wanted to.
It was still daylight, for one, and this place, the damp soil under my hands as I arrived at the cave, was no longer a safe place to allow myself such an indulgence.
Resolved to wait it out, to think over the sorceress’s carefully crafted words until they could no longer scare me, I stayed until nightfall. Inside, against the wall, the earth warm at my back, I watched my hands and arms shake, my feet fade and reappear, and willed my blood to cool.
The moon took a shape I couldn’t see in the sky. He wasn’t here, wasn’t coming, and after hours of shivering while boiling inside, I knew I had to let go. That it was probably safe to.
About to, I opened my eyes at the sound of a soft crunch at the other end of the cave. “What is wrong with you.” Not a question but an order for answers.
“Nothing,” I said too quickly and jumped to my feet, hoping they’d hold me.
They did, mercifully, and staring at him as he approached, I felt every boiling blood vessel begin to cool as I drew in Fang’s features. The moonlight behind his head wouldn’t touch him, but it shone splashes of silver upon those angular cheekbones, their high rise toward those ice-sharp eyes stealing my breath.
“There’s nothing I hate worse than people wasting my time.” I would’ve scoffed if I’d had enough energy. “Tell me why you’re shaking like a leaf in a storm.”
Meeting those eyes, I immediately looked away, knowing I’d have to tell him something or leave. I had a feeling he wouldn’t let me do that this time. “The prince visited.”
Silence reigned, with the exception of the trickling water outside of our secret passageway.
“You could say it didn’t go well,” I murmured, hoping that would be enough to placate his need for an explanation.
A low hum left him before he said, “You are betrothed?”
I half laughed at that, sinking back against the wall as my limbs slowly returned to me. “I highly doubt it.”
More silence. “You’re disappointed then,” he surmised, his head tilting in that predatory way as he studied me with bright eyes.
“Something like that.” I ripped my lace gown with the small dagger I’d started wearing strapped to my thigh, his gaze a blistering brand upon my bare legs. “Did you bring your swords?”
In answer, he unsheathed both from his back. “You’ve taken to carrying a weapon.”
“Dire times,” I muttered, too thankful for the return of myself to remember I was yet again in a place I shouldn’t be with a crimson asshole from across the ravine.
His voice lilted as he said, “So I’ve heard.”