Page 15 of Knight's End
No one wants to know that.
And with that, my newest knight turned and pulled me toward the rest of the group, effectively ending our conversation.
But I wouldn’t let go of his hand. I held onto Blue, twining my fingers tightly with his as we walked toward the low-roofed stone structure where hedgewitches used to meet.
Quinn ran around and then inside it, a blur so fast that I had to blink to be sure it was him. He gave us an all-clear signal before we headed inside.
When we walked into the lodge, it was clear it had been abandoned for a long time. Pieces of thatch were missing from the roof, allowing weaker shafts of winter sunlight to drift down and make the floor a patchwork of light. The rushes on the floor were dark and covered in dust and mouse droppings.
Declan recoiled. "Ugh. Try not to touch anything.”
"Not a problem." I responded. I was glad for my thick leather boots as we trudged through the mess. There was a long table at one end of the room, and Cerena immediately headed that way. The chairs that surrounded the table were mostly overturned or broken. She shoved aside the pieces looking for a scrying stone.
"What color and what size would it be?” I asked.
"It would be a flat black rock. About the size of a plate."
We all bent to search around the table and on the homemade shelves built into the wall, but it looked as though everything had been scavenged from the building long ago.
Until Blue nearly tripped and fell on his face. “Ow! Sarding rock!” He grabbed for his boot but pulled his hand back when he saw how covered in droppings it was. He left his sore foot alone then.
Cerena hurried over. Her knees creaked as she used the table for support and slowly bent to dust off the rock on the floor. It was black and flat, though the edges were far more jagged than any scrying stone I’d ever seen at the palace. “It’s broken. But it’ll do.”
Connor went over and picked up the stone for Cerena. She gestured, and he laid it on the table for her.
Declan found the sole unbroken chair. He took off his blue Raslen vest and dusted it off for her.
Cerena nodded her thanks. She took her pouch of potions and set them on the table, pushing them aside so they’d be out of her way. We all crowded near and I ended up peering over her right shoulder at the stone. She spit onto the top of the rock, scratched it with what smelled like a cinnamon stick, and muttered under her breath. Instantly, the rock turned glassy, as though a miniature lake floated on top of it.
We all stood silently as Cerena chanted under her breath and watched as she pulled a hair from her head and dropped it onto the stone. Instantly, the water seemed to ripple, and the hair was sucked under, disappearing into the depths.
A scene started to emerge, a very familiar scene. Isla stood at a poker table, a war map spread out on the green felt and held down by steins full of ale. Several blue-clad generals surrounded her, and one pointed at a location on the map. Her keen eyes studied it for a moment before nodding sharply.
A door opened to the side of the room and Kylee stumbled in.
My skin prickled with goosebumps.
No, I thought. No.
The tavern keeper who’d been fool enough to hire me, take me in and keep me while I’d been a selfish teen on the run from her fate, was now a prisoner.
One of Rasle’s soldiers stood at Kylee’s back, a dagger glittering between them. Kylee wore the same green vest he’d always worn when I’d worked for him. Only now, it was stained with dark patches. I couldn’t decipher if they were dirt or blood.
I fidgeted with my skirt as I watched, hoping Kylee wouldn’t be hurt, but knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it if he was.
My old boss stumbled toward Isla. The soldier behind him forced him into a rough bow.
“Respect your queen,” the soldier hissed.
Kylee’s face grew dark. My throat tightened.
Don’t say anything rash, I silently urged.
Luckily, the tavern owner had always been more adept than me at holding his tongue. “My apologies,” he said.
I noted he didn’t add ‘your majesty.’ So, there was still some small bit of rebellion in him.
“I was told you would decide upon the dinner for your soldiers. We have one cow, typically used for milk. Two pigs—”
