Page 20 of White Horse Black Nights

Mulling over our options, I pull Sabine to her feet by her upper arm, interrupting whatever silent conversation she was having with livestock. This news has me on edge. We’re headed north, in the same direction as these supposed Volkish riders.

“Wolf?” She skitters as I drag her backward toward the door. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Somethinghappened.”

“Nope.”

I shoulder open the door, thrusting us into bright sunlight. My eyes case the road in both directions. I can see about three times farther than the average person and in much greater detail. There’s no sign of any other travelers.

I pitch my head up to judge the position of the sun. “I’ve decided that we’ll bypass Middleford and take the road west through Mag Na Tir Forest instead.”

She frowns. “Lord Rian ordered us to pass through Middleford.”

By the gods, does shewantto be kidnapped by Volkish raiders? I remind myself that she knows nothing about them or the missing godkissed people, and I intend for it to stay that way.

“You’d prefer to pass through cities? More jeering men? More women spiteful that you’ve stolen their husbands’ attention?”

Sabine holds both hands up. “You know what? You’re right. The forest road sounds lovely.”

The rest of the afternoon, we get no more trouble other than some farmhands who sprint to the edge of a wheat field to watch us pass, and a crow who perches on Sabine’s shoulder and refuses to leave until I throw a rock at it.

That earns me one of her scowls.

As the afternoon drags on, my thoughts cycle back to the innkeeper’s warning about the missing godkissed. It isn’t unusual for godkissed to go missing more often than regular people. By our nature, we’re coveted. Men want godkissed wives as a sign of status, and they aren’t above stealing them.

But a young boy? The Marblenz soldier? And what about the godkissed girl the bear supposedly dragged off in the northern border villages? Something still feels particularly off about that last one.

The mental map of Astagnon’s northern border forms in my head. I’m intimately familiar with the border’s contours, since it cuts through the Blackened Forest, where I do much of my hunting. The wall, built thirty feet high, divides not only the forest but also the two kingdoms. There have never been stairs or openings in the wall. I’ve only seen it once with my own eyes, and even then, it was from a distance. To reach the border means traversing through a nearly impenetrable section of the Blackened Forest.

Suddenly, my feet go still.

If my mental map is correct, the area where I tracked that odd bear was less than a mile from the border wall. It’s been five hundred years, for fuck’s sake. What if the wall’s protective wards broke?

A dark certainty fills me, though I know nothing for sure. If raiders did come from Volkany, they would have had to tear down part of the supposedly-impenetrable wall. A bear—a goldenclaw, who hasn’t been seen in our lands for nearly a thousand years, but might have awokennorthof the border—could have entered after they opened it.

Rian dismissed my previous warning about the goldenclaw, but with this new information, he’ll have no choice but to take the possibility more seriously. It’s strange to think the Valveres, with their network of spies, haven’t heard of any strange border activity.

Ahead, Sabine draws Myst to a stop and peers at me inquisitively over her shoulder “Wolf? Why did you stop?”

My muscles prickle, wanting to return to the Blackened Forest and inspect every inch of that wall. Timing is critical if enemy raiders are entering our land to abduct godkissed. I can only imagine what King Rachillon of Volkany—mad or not—intends to do with them.

And yet, as Sabine looks back at me with those doe-like round eyes, I’m beyond torn.Thisis where I should be. Protecting her. There’s no chance in hell I’d let any other person alive do the job. She’s far too valuable. If anything were to happen to her . . .

“Wolf?” she prompts again. “Hel-lo?”

“Keep moving,” I bark, snapping out of my thoughts as I stalk forward. “I didn’t tell you you could stop.”

She rolls her eyes at my gruffness, but dutifully urges Myst forward.

Good girl, little violet.

As we enter the Mag Na Tir Forest, fears about what is really happening in Astagnon claw my insides to shreds.

Chapter7

Sabine

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