Page 123 of Stormvein
When he signals to stop, I’m swinging down from the saddle almost before the horse has stopped. My legs protest, aching from hours on horseback, and I take a moment to steady myself by leaning against the horse, before leading it into the shelter of the trees, close to the small stream. The valley Sacha has chosen seems protected—steep ridges, narrow entrance, dense enough overhead cover to keep us hidden from anyone looking down.
“We’ll stay here for the night,” he says. “No fire. Cold rations only.”
No one questions him.
I help set up camp. Securing the horses, arranging bedrolls, and checking if anyone needs their waterskins refilled from thenearby stream.Anythingto keep my hands moving because I know that when I stop, I’m not going to want to move again.
Two fighters position Lisandra near the center, standing on either side of her, while the rest of the group moves around them.
Something about her has changed since we stopped. Earlier, she looked stiff, still, almost blank. The perfect prisoner resigned to her fate. Now she seems sharper. Her gaze shifts around more often. She’s keeping track of where people are, where their weapons sit. Her shoulders aren’t tense anymore. They’re loose, ready.
I can’t tell if it’s nerves or something else, but I don’t like it.
“Water?” I offer her a waterskin, more as an excuse to be closer to her than out of kindness.
She accepts it with bound hands, her fingers brushing against mine.
“Thank you.” Her voice is calm and flat. No emotion. No warmth. No nothing.
I stay beside her while she drinks, watching her face. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Guilt, maybe. Or fear. Something … Anything to make sense of what she did.
“You must be tired.”
Her eyes meet mine, direct and unreadable. “Aren’t we all?”
“Some more than others, I think.” I take the waterskin back. “Sleep would help.”
A bitter smile curves her lips. “I don’t think so.”
“Because you’re afraid of what Sereven will do when you bring him a message instead of Sacha’s head?”
That lands. She doesn’t flinch, but her eyes shift just enough. A flicker, nothing more. But enough to confirm what I’ve been suspecting since we left Stonehaven.
“Sacha won’t let him kill you.” I don’t know why I’m trying to reassure her. “That’s not the plan.”
“Plans change. Especially his.”
I want to argue, but I can’t find the words. The truth is, I don’t know what Sacha intends for her once she’s played her part at Blackstone Ridge. He’s impossible to read.
Around the others, he’s closed-off, distant, always in control. But with me … he’s different.
There’s a softness there now, only shown in quiet moments, but there. And maybe that’s what makes it harder to guess what he’s planning.
Lisandra isn’t wrong about what he’s capable of. I’veseenit. I just don’t know where the line is between who he is when he’s alone with me … and who he might have to be with her.
“I never wanted him to suffer.” Her voice drops lower, meant only for me. “Whatever you think of me, believe that. I thought they would simply return him to the tower.”
“But they didn’t.” My voice hardens, despite trying to stay neutral. “They tortured him instead. And then you sold him out a second time.”
“Yes.” No excuses. No justifications. Just that one word.
I study her face, searching for any sign of emotion—remorse, guilt, even fear—but there’s nothing. Just the kind of quiet that comes after a decision has already been made and can never be changed.
“How could you do it? After everything he’s done for the Veinwardens? The years he lost when they imprisoned him?”
“You’re not from this world, Ellie. You wouldn’t understand.” She looks away. “You have no idea what it means to survive here.”
“Try me! I’ve seen enough since I arrived to understand more than you think.”
