Page 10 of Shadows of Winter

Leave it to him to use a vocabulary word to describe her emotional outbursts.

Some intuition took Kaylina to the door again, and she pressed her ear against it. Footsteps sounded in the corridor.

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.

“We’ll tell them the truth once more. Calmly, so they’ll take us seriously.”

“It’s hard to get people to take you seriously when there’s nobody behind you.”

His lips flattened, but he didn’t deny that. After all his encounters with bullies in school, he had to know that better than she.

“If we have to, we’ll request that the adjudicator send a letter home to verify we are who we say we are,” Kaylina said. “I hate the thought of needing help, but Grandma will vouch for us.”

“It’ll take three weeks for round-trip communication.”

“Three weeks when they’ll have to keep us alive. Time for us to come up with something.”

“All right.” His bleak expression didn’t suggest agreement, but he probably had nothing better.

The lock turned, and Kaylina stepped back.

When the door opened, Lord Vlerion’s broad shoulders filled the frame. Damn it, where was that adjudicator? Someone impartial and fair who would hear them?

Vlerion carried his sword in hand, like an executioner’s axe ready to swing.

When his cold gaze met hers, Kaylina stepped back before she caught herself. Irritation swept through her, more at her automatic response than at anything he’d done. But her brother would point out it was logical to get out of the way of someone with a huge sword.

His face impassive, Vlerion walked into the cell, making room for an older man in ranger blacks to step in after him. A few grays dotted the new man’s brown hair, but he looked lean and fit under his armor.

When Vlerion turned, light from the corridor allowed her to see the red lump on the back of his head. Kaylina couldn’t regret hitting him, not when he’d been going after Frayvar with a sword, but there might be repercussions.

With a sword and dagger belted at his waist and more visible scars than Vlerion had, the second ranger looked as fair and impartial as a badger defending a cub. He surveyed them as Vlerion rested the tip of his long blade on the stone floor and waited.

“This is the girl who hit you on the head?” Was that amusement in the new ranger’s eyes?

“She is.” Vlerion touched something tucked into his belt opposite a dagger. Her sling.

Kaylina’s fingers twitched involuntarily toward it. Not because she longed to brain him—much—but because she couldn’t lose Grandpa’s gift.

“She wants to do it again.” Yes, that was amusement in the other man’s eyes.

Kaylina lowered her hand.

“Many do,” was all Vlerion said.

The older ranger considered Kaylina and Frayvar. “They’re young for spies and murderers.”

Vlerion eyed Kaylina. “She’s close to my age.”

“You’re young too.” Humor glinted in the ranger’s brown eyes again.

Dare they hope he would be more reasonable than the uptight lord?

“Captain.” The first hint of emotion entered Vlerion’s voice—mild indignation. “For six years, I’ve patrolled the Evardor Mountains and climbed the Twin Sisters to fight the Scourge beasts and Kar’ruk spies. I’ve seen as many battles as your gray-haired veterans.”

“As some of my gray-haired veterans, perhaps.” The ranger—the captain of the rangers?—touched a scar along his jaw.

“The Virts have used children as spies before,” Vlerion said.

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