Page 1 of Lake of Sorrow

1

Fleeing proves only fear, not guilt.

~ Ranger Sergeant Mlokar

In the foothills under the Evardor Mountains, with the setting sun painting the snowy peaks pink, hounds bayed. Though rain, cold, and weariness had long since sapped the strength from Kaylina Korbian’s muscles, she forced herself to stir.

“Do you think that’s for us?” From a hilltop, Kaylina peered around the crumbling remains of an ancient windmill, looking for the riders that had to accompany those hounds.

“No.” Her brother, Frayvar, pulled his damp cloak closer around his frail body. “I’m sure the king sent his guards out to hunt raccoons in the aftermath of a rebellion, an assassination attempt, and a plucky southerner trying to poison the queen.”

“I didn’t try to poison the queen.” Kaylina speared him with the dirty look the comment deserved. Her brother might have been nursing his wounds in ranger headquarters during the chaos in the royal castle, but he knew her better than that. “I was framed, and as soon as the Kingdom Guard and rangers stop hunting us, I’m going to find that awful Jana Bloomlong and punch her in the face until she confesses that she stole my mead, laced it with a deadly substance, and had a lackey deliver it to the queen.”

It wasn’t fair that Jana walked free while Kaylina had wanted posters nailed to posts and trees all over Port Jirador and the surrounding countryside. Ugly wanted posters drawn by a dubious artist with a shaky hand who could only have caught a fleeting glimpse of her. In the portraits, her black hair stuck out oddly, like she had porcupine earmuffs, and her pouty lips seemed cruel, her warm brown eyes sinister.

“Logic suggests you’ll need to cajole a confession out of her before the authorities will stop hunting for us.”

Hunting for her. Frayvar hadn’t been on the wanted poster, one small relief. Kaylina didn’t want to have to write a letter to their mother and grandparents, explaining that she’d gotten her little brother killed.

“Is cajole the right word when fists are involved?” she asked.

“No, but you’re my older sister, and I prefer to imagine you nobly pursuing victory through words and craftiness rather than physical violence.”

“I’m too tired to be crafty. Or wordy.”

As the hounds bayed again, Kaylina attempted to muster the energy to run. All she wanted was to curl up somewhere warm and sleep for two days straight. Enticing thoughts of her bed back home—back home and more than a thousand miles to the south—flirted with her mind.

“Springing into a fisticuffs battle doesn’t require vigor?” Frayvar asked.

“The frustration simmering inside me would give me energy.”

“At least the rangers aren’t trying assiduously to find us. Yesterday, that taybarri looked right at us with its nostrils twitching, and the rider kept going.”

“I’m out of honey. It had no reason to leave the path and veer into our bushes.”

That was true, but Kaylina knew she had Lord Vlerion to thank for the rangers’ half-hearted search attempts.

Thinking of him brought a pang of longing to her, and she remembered the kiss they’d shared before parting ways. The hot fiery kiss that made her want to do exactly what he’d commanded: clear her name and return to him.

Even if he hadn’t made it a command, she would have wanted to do those things. She longed to walk freely in the city again and help him lift his curse. After Vlerion had saved her life, she owed him. More, she wanted him to be the man he could be if he didn’t have to worry about losing his equanimity and turning into a murdering beast.

Frayvar pointed toward the road that passed below the sprawling country estate they were hiding on, the manor house miles from the abandoned windmill and the meandering stream it perched near. Eight men on horseback rode closer with their hounds running ahead and through the fields to either side.

Kaylina rose to her feet, careful to stay hidden by the ruins, and grabbed her pack. It had grown lighter these past days as she and Frayvar ate through the food Vlerion had given them.

The hounds turned up the drive for the estate, sniffing at the ground Kaylina had walked across before dawn.

Crouching beside her, Frayvar pointed at the stream. “That way? They’ll have no trouble following our trail if we don’t hide our scent in the water.”

“I know.” Kaylina had grown up hunting grouse and small animals in the Vamorka Islands with her grandfather and his hounds. She knew their abilities well. “But it leads…”

She trailed off, gaze drawn to the dense forest bordering the estate. The ancient trees grew thick, tangled undergrowth flourishing between the trunks, and twilight appeared to have already fallen within its bounds.

“To the Daygarii Preserve,” Frayvar finished. “A spot we’ve been avoiding for the last three days, but it’s the only place the hunters may hesitate to follow us.”

“The rangers won’t go in there—Vlerion said the preserve is as cursed as the castle we leased and hates their kind. I’m less certain about guards and bounty hunters.”

But what choice did they have? They had to avoid being imprisoned if they were going to eventually sneak back into the city and clear Kaylina’s name.

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