“Over here!” I shout, revealing our location.
Meredy waves a hand, echoing my call.
It takes only a moment for him to navigate around the spreading fire. When he sees the condition we’re in, he says, “Don’t worry. I’m here to help,” and hurries to check Master Cymbre’s pulse. He passes me his torch so he can lift Cymbre into his arms.
“Is the bear friendly?” he grunts, eyeing Lysander. Not even Meredy’s calming influence keeps Lysander completely quiet with a stranger so close, and I think back to what she said about him not liking most people.
Meredy gives a terse smile. “Mostly.”
“I saw the fire from my cabin,” he adds. “Not many folk pass through these parts, so I thought I’d better come check . . .” His voice dies away as he gets a look at the gold pin on my chest. He offers me a crude bow. “Can’t remember the last time there was a necromancer in my woods.” Shifting his gaze to Meredy, he adds, “Or a beast master. Now let’s get your friend here to a healer. Abethell Castle’s the place you’ll want, just down that hill. And there’s plenty of time to tell me what happened here along the way.”
We hurry past the fire into the black night while I describe the Shade attack as quickly as I can. It’s too fresh in my mind for me to want to dwell on it for longer than is necessary.
The hunter merely grunts in response.
“What?” Meredy snaps.
“There were footprints in the woods near here. All from the same set of boots, by the look of it,” the man says thoughtfully. “I figured whoever attacked you fled the scene after they set your wagon ablaze. Thought I might have to use this.” He taps his axe hilt.
Meredy’s eyes meet mine, searching.
It’s Vane. It has to be. Somehow, he knew our path, and he brought his pet Shade with him to stop us.
XXIII
Abethell Castle is really more of a squat fortress built into the stone of the mountain on which it rests, overlooking a valley far below.
By night, it appeared crouched like a wary beast guarding against our approach. I shivered as we were ushered through a dark side entrance. But by morning, waking in a guest chamber filled with sunlight, it doesn’t seem much different from the palace in Grenwyr. And it has a better view.
Throwing off the blankets, I use the washbasin on the far wall to scrub off the blood, dirt, and soot I was too tired to deal with last night. Baroness Abethell was determined to attend to our every comfort, summoning a healer who deserved to be paid his weight in gold for making my leg good as new, and offering us three rooms on the top floor of the castle.
I wish I had fresh clothes to change into, but since everything from the wagon burned, I throw on last night’s mud-and-blood-stained uniform of black trousers and a tunic. At least I still have my cloak with Valoria’s drawing tucked in the pocket. I take a quick look at it before heading into the hallway, my stomach rumbling. The baroness seems like the type to put out a lavish breakfast spread, and I plan to eat my fill before we journey deeper into Elsinor.
I stride down the corridor, turn a corner, and walk right into Meredy, her forehead banging against mine. We break apart, rubbing our heads, and I hastily look away to hide a grin.
Meredy clears her throat. “You should’ve asked me for a change of clothes. I brought a few extras. They’re not much, but at least they’re clean.”
“Oh.” I take in her simple tunic, the color of Lysander’s fur, and her deerskin trousers, which are a damn sight nicer than last night’s battle clothes. She’s lucky she has a bear to carry all her things like a giant pack mule. I wonder if they managed to house him in the stables and how they kept him from eating the horses.
“You saved my life,” I blurt. “That’s twice now, if you count keeping me prisoner.”
“Just doing my job.” Meredy rubs the scar on her cheek, like she does when she’s nervous or lost in thought.
Suppressing a grin, I mutter, “Thanks, my humble savior.”
I start down the stairs toward the noise of what I hope is a dining room, pausing for Meredy to follow.
“It’s not your fault you couldn’t stop the Shade, you know.” She reaches my side and keeps pace with me, stealing a sideways glance when she thinks I’m not looking. “It kept going after you,” she adds. “You had no hope of killing it. It was like you were its only target, and—”
I stop cold in the middle of a glittering tiled hallway. “The key to killing them is taking them by surprise.” I finish the thought for her.
Meredy nods, then waves at someone over my shoulder.
“Good morning!” a handsome woman in a fine gown calls, sweeping toward us. The baroness. “And thank you again, on behalf of all of Elsinor, for slaying our monster.” Her weary gray eyes meet mine. “I’ve had the cooks pack you plenty of breakfast, so I hope you’re hungry.” She tosses her long, dark braid over her shoulder and checks the fastenings of her cloak. “Everything’s waiting in the carriage. This way, please!”
Meredy takes a step forward, but I hold her back with a hand on her arm.
“Where are we going?” I ask, careful to keep my voice pleasant.
Baroness Abethell flashes a dazzling smile. “On a tour of our valley, my dear Master Odessa.” Her smile dims slightly as she adds, “Master Cymbre declined to join us. She may need a second visit from the healer, but for now, she’s enjoying breakfast in her chamber.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have time for a tour,” I say slowly, forcing myself to smile back. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. You’ve been more than generous. But we’re here to find the Shade that’s been attacking Elsinor, as you know.”
And after that, we’re needed back in Grenwyr City, where Jax and Simeon are probably overwhelmed with restless Dead in the wake of news about the king’s disappearance spreading. At least it doesn’t seem like anyone here has heard what befell our leader, and if they haven’t, I don’t want to be the one to share it.
“I insist,” the baroness says a moment later, her voice still cheerful. “You deserve to see what your brave actions have protected, master necromancer.”
I glance down at the pin on my tunic. “Killing that Shade had nothing to do with bravery, and everything to do with survival, Lady Abethell.” With a glance at Meredy, I add, “It was my guard who killed the monster, not me, so you should be thanking her.”
“And a tour sounds like a lovely way to do that,” Meredy says, covering the awkward moment.