Page 43 of Winter's Fate

Laena cradled a cup of hot tea in her hands, trying to understand how this odd collection of men—and one woman, she noted—had come to be her rescuers. She rested on a fallen log as they milled around the clearing outside the cabin, several of them keeping what seemed like an inordinately careful watch on the woods.

None reentered the cabin. None even glanced toward it, as if by acknowledging the carnage they might cause it to spill out the door and haunt them forever.

She didn’t want to think about it, either.

Nor did she much want to think about Callum, though that seemed impossible after he’d come bursting in to rescue her. When he’d crashed through that door, eyes blazing with rage, her own heart had stuttered with fear. For a moment, anyway.

That was the man she’d read about, the scourge of magic users and lawbreakers. He’d dispatched the two men with merciless ease, and she did not doubt he would have done the same to the woman had she given him a chance.

Had he not been distracted by Laena’s magic.

It was difficult to reconcile that vicious warrior with theman who’d been fussing over her for the last fifteen minutes like a worried matron, since she’d fallen unconscious back in the cabin. He hadn’t left her side since she’d taken a seat in the clearing, no matter that she was feeling much better. Only a little bit shaky.

All right, he was quite a bit handsomer than a worried matron. His dark hair was damp with exertion from the fight, his eyes roving her face every few minutes as if he thought she might break. Yet despite how much he looked at her, he had yet to meet her gaze directly.

Hanging between them, unspoken, was the magic she’d used in the cabin.

He had to know it had been her. It could not have come from anyone else, and she hadn’t done anything to hide it.

Had he taken such pains to rescue her only to arrest her now that he suspected—or knew—what she was? Or would he dispatch her with the same ruthless ease as he had the men in the cabin? It seemed impossible to believe, with the concern drawing lines across his forehead.

She did feel shaky. A burning sensation had taken the place of the cool comfort of her magic, and though it had already begun to fade, it had not eased entirely. It was like she’d inadvertently drawn too close to a fire and stayed there a few seconds too long, allowing the heat to sear her. Only instead of burning the skin, it was burning her inside.

Her hands were still shaking, her breaths a touch too ragged. No wonder Callum was looking at her like she was something fragile.

Or perhaps the concern was for the magic rather than for her safety. Perhaps he only sat next to her now so he could take her by surprise, wrap her wrists in chains, and drag her to the dungeons before her magic had time to revive.

“Don’t worry.” Laena startled as the white-haired man who’d given her the tea chuckled, easing himself down to sit acrossfrom her. “A husband’s bound to be worried for his lady now, isn’t he? But there’s no harm done. You’re a courageous one, and that’s a fact.”

Laena blinked, taking a long sip of tea to hide her surprise. It seemed Captain Farrow had been telling stories. Until she knew why, it would probably be wise to play along. “Myhusband? Worried?”

“Wouldn’a let us rest until you were safe.” The man laughed again, then patted Callum’s shoulder. “Not been married all that long, have ye? You’ll see how husbands are, good lady. You’ll see.”

Laena looked at Callum, then back at the man. Callum was still avoiding her gaze, his eyes skipping over her face without landing on her eyes. No doubt he’d been concerned for the fate of Aglye’s emissary, for the fate of his mission, not for her personally.

Now, with the magic, she wondered if he would allow her to meet King Hawk at all.

“This,” Callum said, “is Maynard. He agreed to lend his band of…”

“Traveling performers,” Maynard provided.

Callum winced. “He agreed to bring his band of traveling performers when he heard my wife had been taken.”

Maynard’s allies were traveling performers? Well, that made no sense whatsoever. Laena rested her tea in her lap, savoring the comforting warmth of the cup in her hands. The day wasn’t overly cold—it was growing warm, in fact—but she felt the barest shiver of a chill crawling along the inside of her ribcage.

Strange. She rarely felt the cold. Even in that winter of near starvation, it wasn’t the cold that had endangered her. And she never felt it from her magic, either. Was it responding to that heat somehow, the feeling of the burn?

Shaking off her unease as best she could, Laena took the opportunity to look more closely at Maynard and his followers.What would a band of traveling performers be doing out in the woods, with no one to perform for? As long as one didn’t count the forest mice and the birds. Perhaps a deer or two.

No, performers kept to the cities. Or at least to roads with frequent villages or manor houses. But Callumhadsaid there were thieves in the forest, had he not?

Laena let her jaw drop in open surprise. No need to hide it. “You broughtbanditsto help rescue me?”

Callum winced again.

“We really are traveling performers, good lady,” Maynard protested. “It’s merely that… well, times are hard and all. Not as many lords are wanting to see a play.”

“Not for the prices you charge,” the woman bandit—or performer, or both—said from behind him. As far as Laena could tell, she was the only woman in the group. She’d been pacing restlessly between the trees, peering into the woods every few steps as if she expected an attack at any moment.

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