Page 35 of Weaving Winter

I shivered. In the short time we’d spent at Eleago, I’d grown to welcome the warmth and comfort, at least on a physical level. But it was a dangerous comfort—a treacherous temptation. Now, back on the road again, I felt a keen sense of loss. But what I was feeling had to be a fraction of the worry that Fenling was going through. With her cousin in irons, her other cousin turning into a despot, she was facing more loss than I was.

“Do you think that Quen will—” I stopped midsentence as the faint sound of hooves sounded in the distance. Tensing, I said, “Do you hear that?” I looked around. We weren’t quite to the treeline yet, and though it was night and snowing, it wouldn’t take long for riders to see us.

Fenling turned around. “We can’t make a dash for the woods. The terrain is still too rocky to put our horses through that.” She pulled out her sword.

I withdrew my own sword. My bow would be useless in the dark night. Sparrow and Tonyah moved behind us. I glanced back at them. Sparrow was carrying a hunting knife, but Tonyah was unarmed. I leaned down and pulled my dagger out of my boot, handing it to her. She said nothing, but accepted it with a soft sigh.

“Ready?” Fenling asked.

I nodded. “Ready. I’m not going back. The prince is not getting his hands on me.”

Fenling was about to answer when the riders closed in. There were about twenty of them. I took a deep breath, straightening my shoulders, ready to face whatever was coming. But a moment later, Fenling let out a shout.

“Quen!”

As I squinted through the night and made out Quen’s eyes, white against the blackness of his skin, relief flooded through me. They shimmered in the dusk with a feral light, and at that moment, a distant sound of wolves howling echoed through the air.

“Thank gods.”

“We have twenty with us, and the rest are in hiding, plotting Bran’s escape. I also found out who our spy was.” Quen frowned. “Zusu came clean when we confronted her. She slit her wrists before we could stop her. It’s a better end than what the prince would have held for her, should he have found out she spilled his secret.”

Zusu? The woman Fenling had her eye on? I quickly glanced over at my friend, just in time to see the distraught look on her face. But she shook her head and sat stalwart in her saddle.

“Are we sure of the others?” she asked.

Quen glanced at the company behind him. There were around twenty-five of them—half the contingent. “I wish I could have rallied more, but we had to move fast, and some of the men were in the mess hall. It would have been too obvious to bring all of them. But San stayed behind to gather them into hiding. He’s undertaking Bran’s escape.”

“We need to get under cover of the forest,” Fenling said. “I don’t like staying out here in the open. Who knows what other spies the prince has? Let’s go.”

We turned toward the treeline and, silently, picked our way through the last of the rocky valley, disappearing into the Bramble Fel Forest long before dawn.

Shortly before dawn, we found a glade in which to make camp. We’d been riding all night, and my butt ached from making only one stop to quickly eat a little food, relieve ourselves, and then get back in the saddle. We weren’t traveling along the trail, but through the actual woodland. That created its own issues, with having to wade through knee-deep snow. But our horses were used to it, and they had a good sense for navigating the frozen landscape.

“Do you think they’ll come after us?” I asked. “Will the prince send out riders?”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Fenling said. “He may be glad to be rid of us, but now he knows who opposes him. I’m more focused on whether San will be able to spring Bran from the dungeon. There are secret tunnels all through the castle, so I’m hoping they’ll be able to utilize them in order to sneak in and free him.”

“San seemed confident he could manage the job, though given there was one spy among us, we have to hope there weren’t others. But if the prince sent Zusu in so recently, maybe his paranoia has gotten worse. Maybe he didn’t think it was necessary beforehand.” Quen swept away a patch of snow and laid down dry kindling from a stash the riders had brought. “We need to find more wood that’s dry enough to burn.”

“I’ll ask Tonyah and Sparrow to look for some. But I don’t want them going out of sight without one of us. I trust them, but I don’t trust that they won’t get lost.” Fenling motioned to Starson, one of the other riders. “Can you go with them?”

Starson nodded. She was a sturdy woman, tall and muscled. “Of course. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

As she led Tonyah and Sparrow away, I knelt down to help Quen with the fire. I’d learned from the time I was a little girl how to spark flame, how to find water in the forest, how to tell the direction in which I was going by the position of the sun.

“How are you doing?” I asked Quen. “How are your wounds?”

“Much better. They’re almost healed and I managed to avoid infection.”

As the flint sparked and the kindling caught flame, I thought about Bran. Even though Fenling was incredibly comforting and I felt safer with her around, there was something about Bran that had made me feel protected. I missed him, if I was honest with myself, and it hit me that, if I never saw him again, I’d feel like part of me had been wrenched away. Even with the Lorani surrounding me, I felt vulnerable and isolated.

“We’ll rescue him,” Quen said.

I glanced over at him. “What?”

“Bran. I can see the worry in your face. I know you’re thinking about him.” He flashed me a wide smile. “Bran’s tougher than you think. Even the prince can’t take him down that easily, and Bran has many friends throughout the castle. There are plenty of people who feel he should be wearing the crown and not Karehl.”

I stared at the flames as he added in small sticks to nurture the fire till we were ready for the bigger logs. “Is it that obvious?” I finally asked. “That I like him?”

---