Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)

I supposed it was only fitting that on my seventh day I came across a listing hammered onto a wooden post with a sketch of my face. There were more further west, lining the King’s Road:

WANTED: RYIAH OF DEMSH’AA, FORMERLY A PRINCESS OF JERAR. HIGH TREASON. ATTEMPTED MURDER OF THE KING. HAS MAGIC AND VERY DANGEROUS. NEW TITLES AND LAND FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO HER ARREST. BRING IN ALIVE.





My knuckles grew white against the reigns. The regiment had beaten me home.

My parents.

Common sense dictated I make a run for the keep. Alex and Ella. It might not be too late for them.

But even as the thought crossed my mind, I was kicking my horse into a gallop, urging him west. I couldn’t leave without checking on my parents first. Maybe they had gotten out in time.

Or maybe the regiment had them, and if they did…

Just beyond the trees lining the main road was an old trail that circled back into the village. It wasn’t used by most; there were too many dead ends and the unstable ground made it the last choice for a traveler on horseback, but I knew it like the back of my hands. My parents had sent Alex, Derrick, and I on countless supply runs for plants that grew along the trail.

I spent the next three hours climbing the hills and carefully edging my horse along a steep pass that wove around to the backside of my town.

I didn’t come across a soldier or villager once. The road was as empty as could be. The ground was still frosted over, and it was growing dim; no one would be venturing to collect anything now when the land still had the last remnants of winter keeping the edibles deep underground.

When the trail finally came to a halt, I was standing outside the local tavern as the sun set, listening to the jumble of voices inside. That wasn’t the sound of a village overwhelmed by the regiment awaiting a notorious criminal’s return. It was the clink of glasses and celebratory day’s end.

Still, just because I couldn’t see or hear them didn’t mean a patrol wasn’t present. I wasn’t taking any chances.

I tied my steed to a shaded fence and then ducked along the backside of the village, hiding under ledges and shadows as I made my way down the familiar alley. It was easy, really. Most of the villagers were already inside. Warm candlelight peaked through heavy curtains, and the familiar wafting scent of stew and rosemary hit me as I passed.

The only movement outside was the repetitive scratching of branches against the buildings’ walls and the chickens scavenging for food. Occasionally I heard someone making their way across to the well, but that was in the town center, and I was skirting the back.

I had just turned the final corner when I lost my footing and stared.

The apothecary was still lit up from within. Even as far away as I was, I could hear the lilt of conversation over the wind. Shadows moved inside and someone was laughing—a light tinkle, like my mother’s.

No one would be laughing if there were guards.

In all of two seconds, I was sprinting down the path, all semblance of stealth forgotten. My parents were inside, filling orders just as they always had, hours into the night.

And then as my hand hovered above the door, I started to back away. There was another female voice, too. A younger one. And now that I was here, the light tinkle of the first was a bit too high. It was the two apprentices that ran the shop with my parents. And I didn’t hear a man’s voice above the din.

What am I doing? But I couldn’t bring myself to turn away. I had to know. I hadn’t come this far just to run. I would face the truth, for Alex.

Refusing to spend any more time debating the chances of my parents’ escape, I set to pounding on the door as loud and as fast as I could. The sooner I disappeared from the street, the better.

A moment later, the door swung open and I found myself facing Teegan. Her jaw dropped, and she stood there staring as the older girl shoved past, eyes bulging.

“Ryiah?” She didn’t stare like the other; her hand was locked on the frame.

I didn’t have time for niceties. I shoved my way past and slammed the door shut behind us, turning on both of them.

“Where are my parents?”

The first was still gaping, but the older, Cassidy, was clutching a knife. She must have grabbed it while my back was turned. I could see the distrust in her eyes.

“You tried to kill the king.”

“I tried to do a lot of things.” I advanced on both girls, brandishing a casted sword to remind them of who I really was and what I was capable of. I didn’t have time to explain. “But that’s not why I am here. Now tell me—”

“They ran,” Teegan said. Her lip trembled as the blade pointed at her older sister’s throat. “Two days ago. They just packed up and left us here to manage the shop in their stead.”

“When did the patrols arrive?”

“Yester—”

“The knights put up those posters.” Cassidy cut her sister off with a start. “They told us what you did, Ryiah. That you tried to kill the king.” She was glaring at me, despite the blade. I had to give her credit; she was brave. “Is that why your parents ran? Are they rebels too?”