Page 54 of Bloodwitch
“May I help you, sir?”
Instincts laid claim to Aeduan’s muscles. He spun, he kicked, his boot heel connected with a jaw. A crunch sounded, and before Aeduan could lower his foot, the stable hand crashed to the hay-strewn floor.
Blood filled Aeduan’s nose. No missing it now, fresh and free.Cut grass and birdsong. Warm blankets and bedtime stories.
A boy. The person Aeduan had felled was only a boy, and now his jaw was broken. Pain watered in his eyes—dark eyes that held Aeduan’s while his dangling mouth tried to form shouts of alarm. Betrayal. Horror.
Heat coiled into Aeduan’s fists. Demon, monster. He couldn’t escape what he truly was. “Stay down,” he ordered before whipping away.
The boy did stay down, but distorted cries left his throat. The horses stamped and snuffed. The remaining hands hurried to their stall doors. As one, they saw Aeduan. As one, they saw their friend. And as one, their lips parted.
Aeduan stilled their blood. It was not a graceful move, nor even a powerful one. He fumbled to evenfindthe folds of winter and sprays of cinnamon that made these stable hands who they were. But it was enough, and he held fast. Long enough for unconsciousness to seep in. Long enough for their bodies to crumple to the floor, one by one.
Abrupt silence, then the door clicked, and Iseult and Owl were there. Iseult stalked forward, both packs bouncing on her back as she peered into each stall. She made no move to claim a steed, though, and she made no comment on the boy with the broken jaw.
Owl meanwhile flung herself against Aeduan’s leg, and almost instantly, panic took hold throughout the stable. The nearest horses started trumpeting, and some even bucked against stall doors.
“Here!” Iseult called from a corner stall, already yanking gear off the wall. “This must be the gelding. I’ll tack him up—” She broke off as the black horse reared.
“Owl.” Aeduan knelt beside her. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, while great hiccups shuddered in her chest. And there was no denying that the horses kicked in time to each of her building sobs. “Remember the two fish from the story I told you?” He had to lift his voice to be heard over the growing roars from the horses. “Owl, remember how they stayed strong and escaped Queen Crab? We have to do the same now. You must be strong and stop crying. Owl, can you do that?”
She wagged her head as if saying no, but her sobs did settle—and the horses did briefly calm. Long enough for Iseult and Aeduan to tackup the gelding together. Long enough for him to lift Owl, so light, so fragile in his demon arms, and drop her on the prince’s fine saddle. Aeduan offered a hand to Iseult.
She did not take it. “You haven’t gotten a horse.” Her eyes darted side to side. She was putting it all together. “In the room, you said thatIhad to leave. ThatIhad to go to the Monastery. I, notwe.”
On the saddle, Owl’s crying resumed.
“I have business elsewhere,” he said.
“Business,” she repeated, words getting more strained by the second. “You havebusinesselsewhere? Does that mean you will find us after your… your business is concluded?”
“No.” He turned away from her. The soldiers were almost to the stable, a surge of blood-scents he could not ignore, and though he could bar the door, hold it closed with his own strength, that was only a temporary solution—
Iseult’s hand clamped on his shoulder. “What about Owl? What about her family?”
“I cannot help them.”
A shocked laugh. Then a disbelieving, “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes.”
“No.” She pushed in front of him. “You cannot just walk away. Not after everything.”
Shouts approached: “Check the stables!” It was now or never if Iseult and Owl were going to escape safely.
Which left Aeduan with only one option. If the choice was slaughter or the lamb, then slaughter it would have to be. Better that than the soldiers reaching Iseult and Owl. Better that than the Fury finding them.
“I can walk away,” he said coolly. “And I will walk away. We are not friends, we are not allies.”
“We are—” she began.
“Nothing.” He leaned closer. Their noses almost touched. “There is no we,there is no us. Do you understand? You were a means to an end, and I have found a better means.”
Time seemed to slow, and during the strange lull that stretchedbetween one heartbeat and the next, it struck Aeduan that until this moment, he had never appreciated how much feeling Iseult showed. Not until right now, when she showed none at all. The subtle movements, the tics and tightenings—how had he missed the extent of them?
And her eyes. All this time, they had held such depth of emotion, yet he had never noticed.
Until now, when the emotion had faded to nothing at all. Her face was as empty as the moon and far less reachable.
