She kept her chin raised and didn’t look away from Jonas’s searing glare. “You want me to trust that you won’t kill me? To agree to go with you even though I don’t know where you’ll take me? I’ve heard what happens to girls who are kidnapped by savages.”
He laughed. “Is that really what you think of me? A savage? How Auranian of you. I could just kill him, you know. I’m bargaining with you because I’m no savage. Unlike you and your friend who killed my brother.”
If she went with Jonas, she was putting her fate in the hands of a boy who hated her and blamed her for his brother’s death. But if she said no or tried to run away, she had no doubt this heathen would kill Nic. She couldn’t live with herself if she let that happen.
“Fine. I’ll go with you,” she finally said. “Now take that blade away from his throat or you’ll be very, very sorry, you scum-sucking son of a pig.”
It was a meaningless threat at best. However, if she got the chance to get that dagger away from him, she wouldn’t hesitate to thrust it deeply into his throat. “Understood, princess.” He eased the blade away from Nic’s neck.
“Cleo, what are you doing?” Nic’s words was panicked. “You can’t agree to this.”
What she despaired about wasn’t that she’d fallen into the clutches of a savage boy who was willing to kill without a second thought. It was that her search for her sister’s cure was now at a dead end.
“Keep searching for the Watcher,” she urged. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Don’t worry about you? For this moment forward all I’ll do is worry about you.”
“Jonas said he wouldn’t kill me.”
“And you believed him?” Nic’s expression twisted with agony. Normally Nic was the one with a smile and a joke and very rarely serious. But he was now.
She had to believe him. She had no choice. “Go. And don’t try to follow us.”
Jonas took her by her upper arm and yanked her with him along the dirt road, back in the direction they’d taken from the village, still muddy from last night’s rainstorm. He cast a dark look over his shoulder toward Nic. “Follow us and the deal’s off. I’ll keep the princess and I’ll kill you. Now run along home where it’s safe.”
Nic stood there in silent fury, his fists clenched at his sides as Jonas dragged Cleo away. His face was now as red as his hair. She looked back over her shoulder at him as long as she could until he was only a speck in the distance.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.
“Shut up.”
She hissed out a breath. “Nic’s not around for you to threaten anymore.”
“So now you’re going to give me a hard time? I don’t suggest it, princess. You won’t like the result.”
“I’m surprised you’d even bother to use my royal title. It’s obvious you don’t respect it.”
“What would you prefer I call you? Cleo?”
She looked at him with disgust. “Only my friends call me that.”
He scowled at her. “Then I’ll definitely never call you that. No, I like princess. Or, maybe, ‘your highness.’ It reminds me how high and mighty you consider yourself when faced with a lowly savage like me.”
“That term seemed to bother you. Why? Are you afraid it’s true? Or do you consider yourself more refined that that?”
“How about you shut up like I asked you to earlier? Or I can gag you if you’d prefer.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Where are you taking me?”
He groaned. “And it begins again. The princess has a big mouth.”
Her thoughts raced. “You’re going to use me to extort money from my father. Aren’t you?”
“Not exactly. A war is brewing, princess. Did you know that?”
She gasped. “War?”
“Between Limeros, Paelsia, and your precious, glittering Auranos. Two against one, which are odds I can support. I believe it’s possible your delicate presence in my land will help end things quickly and without bloodshed.”
Cleo reeled from this possibility. She’d known there was unrest—but war? “As if you’d care about something like that. I’d think someone like you would relish any chance to spill blood.”
“I don’t really care what you think.”
“You would use me against my father? Hold me hostage? You make me sick.”
His grip on her tightened painfully. “Your silence is worth any price to me right now. So be quiet or I’d be happy to cut out your tongue, your highness.”
Cleo stopped talking. She went quiet and still, as docile as she was capable of being, and he continued to lead her along the road. Past the village, it turned into a smaller muddy path. A brown rabbit darted in front of them and into a meadow with tall grass—surprisingly green for this otherwise faded, dreary landscape. She didn’t ask any more questions. She knew he wouldn’t answer them. And she didn’t want to risk losing her tongue.