“And luck,” Raith added. “Only one chased after me. I blinded it with a flash stone, one of my own inventions. But tell me, Miss Brighton, how do you know these drakes moved in the day?”
“Oh, um, there were . . . two . . . still alive when I came upon it,” she lied. She didn’t want these men knowing she had felled four when only one had been killed with enchanted arrows. They would want to know how she managed the other three, and—with a gun fashioned by wilder magic—that wasn’t an answer she wanted to give. The very thought of Bonner being taken by the Inquisition was enough to freeze the blood in her veins. It wasn’t just death he would face, but the Purging.
Dal gaped at her. “And you survived?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling the hot stench of that breath against her face again. Now she understood why these men had been riding ready for battle. It could happen again, at any time.
“Impressive,” Raith said.
“I think we call that understatement.” Dal eyed her with newfound interest.
Kate looked away from both men, swallowing a ball of nerves rising up her throat. “They train us well at the Relay house.”
“Indeed they must,” Dal agreed.
They made it back to the Relay tower in less than three hours, their horses lathered with sweat and heads drooping. But each second was precious to Corwin’s life. Kate didn’t know much about drake venom—so few people survived attacks, let alone escaped after being close enough to get bitten—but she knew it was bad. The fever it caused could go so high it wrought permanent damage. But the magists would know what to do, she reassured herself. Their spells were vast and powerful—and expensive. Corwin was lucky he’d been born rich enough to afford such treatment.
Dal charged into the tower first, Raith and the green robe following. Kate stayed outside with the soldiers and remaining blue robes. Despite her fatigue, she couldn’t remain still as she waited for word on Corwin’s condition. She busied herself removing Darby’s saddle and fetching him water, her eyes drifting to the closed door into the tower again and again. Corwin had been alone close to six hours now.
Minutes later, Dal and Master Raith remerged.
“He’s alive,” Dal announced.
Kate took a deep breath and leaned against Darby’s sweat-slicked shoulder, light-headed with relief. If Corwin had made it this long, he would surely survive, and this would all be behind her soon.
“We need to make camp,” Raith said. He motioned to the other magists. “First set the wardstone barrier in a wide perimeter around the tower. Then report to me. I’ll need help seeing to the prince.”
With orders given, activity burst around her, but Kate just stood there, unsure what to do with herself now. It was too late to head for Farhold, and Darby was much too spent. Neither could she go into the tower and make herself at home with the magists at work in there.
Dal approached her moments later. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay the night out here, Miss Kate. But I see you have your bedroll. Is there anything else you need from the tower?”
Kate shook her head, the motion making her dizzy. Exhaustion had caught up with her now that the stress of caring for Corwin was someone else’s responsibility.
“When was the last time you ate?” Dal eyed her with open concern.
“I don’t recall.”
“Well then, come sit down over here, and we’ll get you taken care of. Can’t have the savior of the high prince expiring on us.” He steered her toward the edge of the tower where the land rose in an easy slope.
“My horse . . .”
“I’ll see to him. You’ve done enough.” Dal smiled broadly at her, but there was a command in his voice that she dared not argue against. She grabbed her bedroll off her saddle, spread it out, and sat down. “I’ll have someone bring you food,” he continued. “And don’t you waste a moment worrying about Corwin. He’ll be fine. We both know he’s got a lot to live for.” Dal winked, as if this were some private joke between them, then turned and led her horse away.
Kate leaned back on the bedroll, vowing not to fall asleep, but less than a minute later, she drifted off into oblivion.
When she woke it was full dark. She noticed the stars first, a thousand bright points above her, as if the gods had punched holes in the fabric of the sky to reveal a universe of pure light beyond. So few times in her life had she ever seen the stars like this, near enough to touch, it seemed, and without the haze that so often blanketed the sky above the cities.
Lured by the sounds of camp, Kate sat up slowly and looked around, taking in the sight of Norgard soldiers gathered around the fire, eating and drinking. She was lying in the same position in which she’d fallen asleep, near the tower. Not far from her, Dal sat atop his own bedroll, cleaning his sword.
“She wakes,” Dal said, spying her. “Welcome back to the realm of the living. I’ve never seen a woman sleep so soundly before.”
Kate rubbed her eyes. “How long have I been out?”
“Nearly six hours, I would say. But rightly earned.” He motioned to her. “Have some food and drink, and when you’re finished, you can tell me all about this.” Dal set the sword down beside him and picked up Kate’s revolver.
Her heart gave a lurch. “Do you make a habit of stealing other people’s things?” she said, forgetting for a moment that he was the noble and she the peasant.
To her surprise, though, Dal laughed. The black magestone in his ear winked in the firelight. “A mouth indeed. Well, you can’t just leave a weapon like this in plain view and expect a man to ignore it. Especially one like me.”
Kate cursed inwardly. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he would be curious about such an unusual pistol. She could see that he had removed the bullets from the chamber, each one spread in a careful line before him.
Worried how she could safely explain her way out of this, Kate reached for the plate of food and began to eat. She did it slowly, hoping to delay the conversation about Bonner’s revolver.
“Oh, in case you were wondering, Corwin’s already on the mend,” Dal said, handing her a cup of wine. “Master Raith says it will be a long recovery, but he’s safe to move. We already have a litter built to carry him back to Farhold in the morning.”
Kate took a long, deep drink, the wine finer than any she’d tasted in years. “That’s good news. I will be leaving come morning as well.”
Dal’s eyebrows rose. “On your own?”
“I need to get back to the Relay house as soon as possible. I can move faster than a caravan.”
“That is certainly true.” Dal fixed a penetrating stare at her. His eyes, despite their intensity, sparkled with some unknown mirth. “Only, will you stay long enough to speak with Corwin in the morning? If he’s coherent, I mean. I’m sure he will want to see you.”
“I doubt it.” She took another quick swallow of wine. And I certainly don’t want to see him. Now that she knew he would live, her anger at him had returned in force. Go to Fenmore, her father had said. Was it because of the danger she faced as a traitor’s daughter? Or was there some other meaning in the message? Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with an explanation.
Dal smiled but didn’t press the issue, allowing her to finish her meal in silence as he set the revolver down once more and resumed cleaning his sword. He seemed to be doing it out of either boredom or compulsive habit. The sword was already immaculate, the steel smooth and glistening. The ivory hilt, carved in the shape of a hawk with two rubies for eyes, glowed white.