Page 7 of A Storm Rises

“I will take care of her for you,” Floriana said in a tear-filled voice.

Mateo cast his eyes down at his boots. He did not want them to see the hint of sadness and twinge of heartache in his gaze. He also did not want to see the same emotions echoed in theirs. It would only make things worse. A clean break benefited everyone.

With a quick step, he followed Lady Verona out of the house and shut the door behind him. There was no going back now.

With the bags secured to the top of the carriage, Mateo climbed aboard first. He froze when he entered—not because of the simplicity of the wood interior, or the plain brown fabric on the flat benches that faced each other, or the rectangular wooden table in between those benches.

He froze when he saw the witch sitting inside.

Pale-faced, with red hair and white brows, she wore a lengthy brown dress with a short black cloak. She studied Mateo with sparkling black crystal eyes. He had heard of witches with crystal eyes, from his father mostly.

Manny often spoke of an evil soul-sucking witch named Draven who had tried to kill him and his friends when they arrived in Faevenly all those years ago. Did this witch belong to Draven’s coven? Was she evil? And why was she with Lady Verona? All questions Mateo needed answered.

He clutched the cracked leather hand strap and cleared his throat, unsure of where to sit. “I uh…”

“Were you not expecting me?” the witch asked in a silky voice.

Mateo paused, then remembered his manners. “No, my lady.” He nodded and smiled. “Apologies for my rudeness.”

“No apologies necessary. I would have reacted the same way.”

He lowered himself onto the bench across from her. He kept his gaze down and his hands on his knees. Lady Verona boarded soon after and sat next to the witch.

A crack of a whip and the carriage lurched forward. After a few bumpy turns, they rolled down the main road of the village. Shouting and clapping filled the air. Mateo peered out the window, seeing rows of villagers throwing flowers and beaming with pride. These people added to the reasons why Mateo could not stay home for fear of last place. They knew him and knew he was not only capable but likely to win the hunt for the honor and glory of the Sublands. They believed in him.

“Son of the Sublands.” Lady Verona nodded. “They honor you.”

He swallowed. He was not worthy of praise, not at all. But seeing the hope in their faces lifted his spirits and his resolve. “I will do my best to earn their honor.”

With the crowd thinning out, the last faces he saw were Lirien’s and Gareth’s and their families. Lirien cupped his hands around his mouth, hooting and hollering. Gareth held his youngest sister, Poppy, on his shoulders while she tossed an armful of wildflowers.

Matteo waved until he lost sight of them, his heart overflowing. He sat back. “My friends,” he said with a smile. “They mean a lot to me.”

Lady Verona nodded. “They are good people. The Sublands love and honor their hunter.”

With the village behind them, the bouncy carriage settled into a steady pace. Lady Verona took off her short black gloves, one finger at a time, settling in for the long ride. “With the pomp and circumstance behind us, allow me to introduce my friend and adviser, Rhyka. She will accompany us to Summit Range.” She placed her gloves on her lap. “She possesses wisdom and counsel regarding the hunt and will share it so you do not finish last.”

Relieved, Mateo cleared his throat. “Thank you. I appreciate any assistance.” He shifted in his seat. “I only learned of the execution penalty last night.”

“That was by design,” Lady Verona said.

He tilted his head. “What do you mean, by design?”

Lady Verona and Rhyka exchanged knowing glances. Lady Verona folded her hands in her lap and held her head higher than usual. “I knew of the penalty because I asked for it.”

Mateo’s stomach dropped as if he were in freefall. What did she say? He needed to hear it once more because he did not believe his ears.

“You did what?”

“The Sublands asked for the death penalty.”

His nerves skyrocketed. Why would she do that? He drew in slow, steady breaths and held his tongue while his mind processed her words. As steward of the Sublands, Lady Verona controlled the province to the extent allowed by the Stromms. But more than that, she loved the land and its people. He had heard tales of how she’d stood by the Strongs and defended the Sublands from Draven the Witch. Risking the life of a Sublander ran contrary to what he knew of Lady Verona.

Mateo’s voice remained steady. He wanted to make sure he understood what he had heard, but needed to mind his manners. He promised his father to be pleasant. “You asked for the one who finishes last to be executed?”

“I did.” She studied Mateo with a keen focus. “It was the only way we were allowed a competitor in the hunt.”

“So, you wanted to put me at risk?” Forget being pleasant. His voice rose as he leaned forward. “To possibly die?” That made no sense at all to Mateo.

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