Page 67 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

As she wipes her hands in satisfaction, she slides me a sidelong look. “I don’t expect a thousand gold coins from you, Wolf Bowborn. Bringing Lady Sabine back will be payment enough.”

The locket with Sabine’s portrait burns a hole in my pocket.I will, I vow to any gods listening.I’ll bring her back or die trying.

Folke squeezes my wrist guard as he gives me a knowing look. “Go get your woman. Your memories, too. We’ll keep the guards off your back.”

“Thanks, old man.”

Folke smacks me fondly on the side of the head.

They each roll back one of the stable doors, letting in a burst of sunlight. A beam falls at my feet, illuminating the dust dancing in the air, and I have a second of doubt.

But then Myst nuzzles my shoulder, and I touch the outside of my pocket over the locket. I step on a mounting block and swing a leg over Myst.

“Okay, crazy mare. You tried to tell me what I needed to do, and I didn’t listen. I’m listening now. I can get us to the border. I needyouto manage that fae beast so he doesn’t burn the entire kingdom in our wake.”

Myst’s head swings toward Tòrr as though giving him a stern look.

Tòrr stands tall in the center of the stable, swishing his black tail in impatience. He stomps one hoof. Even glamoured to look like a regular horse, he still has the arrogance of a fae.

“And you, Tòrr.” I point a finger at his nose. “I’ll make you a deal. No saddle. No bit. Not so much as a lead rope on your proud neck. But if you bolt into the woods and burn a couple of villages for fun, I’ll hunt you to the end of the earth. Got that?”

I’m no idiot—I know I’m only talking to myself. Trying to convince myself that I have any control over either of these crazy horses is a fool’s errand.

So when Tòrr pins his dark eyes on me and purposefully drags the tip of his front hoof through the straw dust on the floor, my jaw drops.

He moves his hoof forward, then down,then draws a circle.

O-U-T.

The letters are written in the dust, clear as day. I stare, gobsmacked, and he stamps a hoof to rattle me out of my stupor.

“Sure,” I mutter, running a hand down my face. “Sure. So, you can write. Good to know.”

He snorts a burst of steam in my face.

I signal Myst with my heel, and she pivots to face the exit. Tòrr falls into line with us, and I whisper a prayer that these two horses won’t be the death of me before I can reach Sabine.

“Let’s get our girl.”

I kick Myst into a gallop. Her muscles fire beneath me, propelling us forward, with Tòrr striding along at our side. We burst out of the stables to the surprised shouts of soldiers, but by the time they nock their arrows, we’ve already thundered across the courtyard.

Once we clear the castle gate, I look back over my shoulder, a preternatural sense picking up something from the furthest corner of my vision.

Over the square mass of the wall, I can just make out the top of Honor Tower.

In the uppermost window, Rian braces himself against the sill, gazing down at me with an inscrutable expression.

To him, I must look tiny as an ant, but I can see the cold glint of his eyes even from this distance, sharp as the edge of a blade.

Chapter 20

Sabine

“Don’t jump, Lady Sabine!”

Grand Cleric Beneveto shoves his way through the pale-faced courtiers, swatting away the resplendent fae gods with as little care as if they’re buzzing gnats. His eyes shine in his skull like glass marbles, a sign he’s hit the opium pipe too hard. Still, he remains remarkably sturdy on his feet.

“Sabine—Highness—don’t jump,” he repeats. “It would please these pointed-eared bastards far too much to know they’d gotten under your skin.”

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