“You murderer!” I scream at him as I rush to attack.
Pain explodes in the back of my head, and then I’m tripping forward with the weight of the sword. Lights dim and the leaf-littered ground rushes upward.
The ground is rocking, and I think I’m going to be sick. The blackness spins and twirls me around mercilessly. I roll to my side and vomit.
“Rest,” someone says.
“Clean her up,” another orders.
Voices echo like they’re spoken through a pane of glass. I’m too exhausted to care. I let the darkness steal me away.
Chapter
37
WHEN I WAKE, MY FACE IS PRESSED against a cold stone floor, and a thick stench of piss and dung assaults my nose. Ah, the dungeon. I gag and then groan, as there’s nothing left inside to retch. Couldn’t they have simply killed me?
A dull pain pounds in my skull as I push off the ground and sit upright. I reach back, gingerly touching hair matted with blood.
I’ve no recollection of how I got here or why my body aches like a horse has trampled it. All I remember is Enat and then nothing.
In the weak dungeon light, I stare down at my soiled clothes. Dried blood—?Enat’s blood. Her death replays in my mind, and grief floods out of me in sobs that rack my entire body.
I only just found Enat. Just discovered she’s my grandmother. Two weeks ago I stood in her home and argued about going on this trip. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s gone. She only came to Malam because I asked. How foolish of me to think I could save the king. Or stop a war. That I could finish my father’s work. Or help Finn. How could I have been so arrogant?
Ignoring a bowl of food that’s been placed beside me, I grab the cup of water and sip it down over my ravaged throat. I cinch my ruined shirt tight to my body and hug my knees, welcoming the solitude of the dungeon.
Someone’s touching me, putting cool pressure on my forehead. I thrash awake to find Leif crouched in front of me, holding a bucket of water and a rag. The sight of his uniform hits me with an unbidden vision of Tomas swinging a sword at Enat. I flinch and scramble back against the stone floor to the dank corner.
“Britta, I’m sorry about . . . about what happened,” he says mutedly. “It wasn’t my intention. I was following orders, and if I’d known . . .” He drops his chin. “I would have done something, Britta. I’m sorry.”
I don’t care a whit about his intentions. “How long—?”
“A day is all. You slept for most of it.” I wasn’t going to ask how long I’ve been here. I meant to ask how long before they hang me.
He holds a cup for me to take.
“We’re alone,” he says while I drink. I glance up in question. “The dungeon master is a friend. He’s allowed us a moment to talk.”
I’m sitting in this rotting hell waiting for my name to be called so they can march me out to the yard and hang me. What’s left to talk about? I ignore him.
Leif looks over his shoulder, then back to me. “Do not give up,” he says pleadingly.
“You should leave,” I croak over a gritty throat.
He stands. “Your time is short, Britta. Is this how things will end for you? Is this what you want? Or what she would’ve wanted?”
“What do you know of her?” I stare at him stonily. He has no right to talk to me about Enat.
“I know you loved her,” he says, and I turn away, needing the darkness to dull my pain. “Life hasn’t been easy for you. But there are people who care for you and are willing to help. You’re a fighter, Britta. That’s why I let you go in Celize. I knew you would find your father’s killer and make this situation right. Don’t give up now.”
I rest my chin on my arms and stare blindly into the shadows that echo with moans and clanks until Leif leaves.
The door at the top of the dungeon stairs creaks and then clangs shut. Anger sweeps through me, and yet, as furious as I am, Leif’s comments plague me. He let me walk away in Celize. It’s a shock that might amuse me if my entire soul wasn’t black.
Cohen’s still out there with Finn. If he hasn’t already, soon, he’ll reach our tree and know something is wrong, but if he comes for me and the guards catch him, he’ll be hanged.
I grip the roots of my hair, welcoming the biting pinch.
To survive these woods, a man has to be strong as the trees.
If Enat were here, I’m certain she’d fight. I didn’t believe her when she said I was like her. But I want to be. I want so badly to be like my grandmother that I push up off the hardened grime when Leif returns with a dish of gruel.
“So you saw through my disguise?”
A faint smile registers on his lips.
“When you were here earlier, you said not to give up,” I say, my coward voice shaking. “Can I trust you to help me? Answer me aloud.”
His eyes work back and forth over my face. “Yes, you can trust me.”