Page 19 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

Pine resin?The forest we’ve traveled through all afternoon.

As I hug my legs close and rest my cheek on my knee, I let out a long exhale.

Who am I kidding? I’m fantasizing about an escape for the mouse’s benefit, not mine. We have no real chance ofescape. We already tried. I definitely don’t want a repeat of what happened before—my stomach churns with guilt when I think of putting the little cloudfox through so much pain.

Plus, I’m not a skilled woodsman like Basten.

I can’t help but think of him as I tip my head up to look at the moon overhead, visible through a break in the tree canopy.

Are you looking at the same moon now, Basten?

I swallow back the lump in my throat before Iyre, Captain Tatarin, or any of the other soldiers see a hint of vulnerability that they can exploit.

A few minutes later, Captain Tatarin drops down beside me with two bowls of stew. She fishes out a key from a piece of twine around her neck and unlocks my shackles.

“You know,” I say as I massage my wrists. “There are other job opportunities besides kidnapper.”

She dips her spoon in her stew. “Kidnapper, eh? That’s an interesting perspective.”

“What wouldyoucall it?” I stab my own spoon in my bowl.

She thoughtfully chews on a tough hunk of venison. “Highness, no one has kidnapped you. This has been a rescue operation from the start. Your father has gone to great lengths, even sending a woken goddess, to bring you home.”

I burst out laughing so hard that soup sprays out my nose. Dabbing at my chin, I croak, “A rescue? In chains?”

“The chains are your fault,” she counters. “You tried to kill my soldiers.”

I huff another bitter laugh, quieter this time.

Patiently, she blows on her stew to cool it. After another few bites, she points the end of her wooden spoon at mychest, where my tattered dress’s neckline shows my birthmark. “I’ve never met someone who can speak to animals.”

I bristle, remaining silent, only opening my mouth for stew. But once my hunger fades, my mood slightly improves.

I’ve been watching Captain Tatarin closely for days now. She doesn’t cheat when she plays dice with the other soldiers. She thoroughly brushes down the goldenclaws after each ride. Puts ointment on any cuts on their tender noses. Even kisses their foreheads when she thinks no one is watching.

Plus, I’ll be honest—it’s getting boring to only talk to a mouse.

I sigh. “My godkiss doesn’t help me much now, does it? I’ve asked that goldenclaw you have me riding to run away a dozen times, but she only wants to play riddles.”

Captain Tatarin nearly chokes on her stew. “Did you sayriddles?”

I groan. “All day. Every day. That’s all goldenclaws think about, other than their bellies.”

She cocks her head, curious and a little awe-struck. “Tell me one.”

I shift to pull my legs cross-legged beneath me as I scoop the last of my stew. “What do you see if you follow a horse?”

My goldenclaw, Two, stumped me with that one yesterday.

The captain wrinkles her nose. “Its stable?”

“Its backside.’”

She laughs so hard that a few surprised heads turn from the nearby soldiers to look at us curiously. “One more.”

I lean back on my arms. “What is gold but never shines?”

“Hmm. I don’t know.”

---