To Jenna’s surprise, Karn and his blackbirds didn’t bother to bring in a healer to treat the wound just below her ribs. Karn treated it himself, packing it and wrapping her middle in linen bandages. It stopped bleeding almost immediately, and turned icy.
At first, she worried that it wasn’t deep enough to kill her, but the way Karn barked orders at everyone told her that he thought it might be. They left her in her bloody fortunetelling clothes, wrapped her in furs, and bundled her into a closed carriage, with three blackbirds and Karn inside, and more up top and riding alongside. It was snowing heavily, and bitter cold.
They’d taken her dagger, but she still had the pendant, at least. Nobody seemed to notice it in all the fuss about her wound and the magemark. She’d tucked it inside the lining of her coat when nobody was looking. She slid a finger in and touched it now and then, wondering how long before that was taken away, too. With any luck, she’d be dead before they took it.
At first she struggled and kicked, and once almost threw herself out of the carriage while it was moving, but she gradually grew weaker and then slept most of the time, conscious of a creeping chill that gradually took over her body. Karn tried to give her soup, and tea, but she resisted, and he spilled more than he got into her.
It was like she felt every bump of the journey. Once, they had to stop to put runners on the carriage to come through the deep snow. Karn swore and pounded his fist on the frame of the carriage.
She heard soldiers over her head, shouting travelers off the road. She felt the pressure of Karn’s eyes, as if by watching her he could keep her from slipping away. As if he could look into her soul, and see what was hidden there.
As her body grew colder, the air grew warmer, moister, and filled with the scent of growing things.
She didn’t know how long they were on the road, but finally one day as she lay between sleep and waking she could hear sounds outside the carriage that told her they were in a city. She heard the horses’ hooves striking cobblestones, and dogs barking. The familiar stench of coal fires burned in her nose, and people were shouting at each other the way they do when they are packed close together. She heard the sound of temple bells overhead.
It must be almost Solstice, she thought hazily. Perhaps they’re taking me somewhere for the holiday. The thought made her smile.
It was a large city, because it was another hour before they clattered across a bridge and into the stable yard at the palace. When they opened the door to the carriage, she could smell horse dung. Or was it the river? She knew she must be in Ardenscourt, the city of her birth. Or, at least, the city where her grandmother had handed her over to the only parents she’d ever known, along with a ruby-hilted dagger and a warning.
She wondered if she would find any answers here.
She was surprised that they would bring a Delphian Patriot this far south to wring answers out of her. Maybe with Clermont gone, they were short of help when it came to torture.
They wrapped her up again and Karn himself carried her into the palace. His face looked haggard, furred with a stubble of beard. On her back as she was, she could see the frowning stone fa?ade stretching above her as she passed beneath it, and the night sky beyond, stained sallow by the lights of the city.
23
THE KING’S HEALER
Ash had no idea what time it was when they brought in his breakfast, but it seemed that he’d just laid down his head when he was awakened by the bang and clatter.
He took the arrival of the servant as a sign that his audience with the king was scheduled for an early hour, so he reluctantly rolled out of bed. He ached all over, and he still had his cuts and bruises, but he was clean, and alive, and he could see, even in the dim light of the banked hearth. That was something to be grateful for.
Despite his weariness, he hadn’t slept well. Lila’s words kept running through his head. You’re an amateur, sul’Han. Don’t let the fact that you’re a wizard make you overconfident. He’d been ready to attack the king in the barn after Crusher went down, without knowing that he wore a talisman. And then he’d all but lost his temper in the courtyard after healing Hamon.
He’d have one chance at the king, if he was lucky. He had to make it count. Now that he was in the palace, with so many eyes on him, he needed to play it smart.
He washed his face using the basin and the mirror. The sunburned look was fading, and his eyes were a little clearer. He pulled his new boots on, being careful of the gash in the back of his leg. They fit perfectly. He ran his fingers through his hair, roughly distributing it, and he was ready.
Breakfast was porridge and sliced fruit. There was no bread. He supposed the destroyed kitchen might affect meal preparation in the palace for a while. Ash thought of Hamon, wondering how he was doing, and where they had taken him. What had the baker seen? Had they asked him any questions?