Winter Queen(30)

Jablana looked around cautiously before whispering, “Be careful, Winter Queen. There are many enemies searching for you here.” Her wings fanned out to catch the air, and Ilyenna knew she would soon fly away.

“Wait, please. Can you help us through?”

The fairy paused, her wings trembling. “You humans always believe you can change things, that if you chip away long enough at a mountain, it will become a valley. But there are some things that just are. The sun in the sky. The earth beneath your feet. And the Balance. We are natural enemies, you and I—no more compatible than ice in high summer.” The fairy darted past Ilyenna, toward the open air.

She felt tears building up behind her eyes. “Even in high summer, there are glaciers in the mountains!”

The fairy paused before Ilyenna’s face, her wings a soft blur behind her. She looked around once more, as if afraid someone might see her, before flitting away.

Ilyenna huddled inside her blanket, wondering if Tyrans slept in the house her back rested against.

The gray of morning was starting to turn to silver when Rone came back for her. She nearly cried out in alarm when he suddenly appeared from the other side of the house.

He didn’t seem to notice how close she’d come to giving them away. “I didn’t see anything. Let’s go.”

She pressed her back up against the house. “There are Tyrans everywhere.”

Rone squatted beside her. “How do you know?”

She opened her mouth before shutting it again. She couldn’t tell Rone about Jablana. He’d never believe her. “I heard people in the house talking about them.”

“Why would Gen let the Tyrans stay?”

She gripped her knife handle. “He couldn’t turn them out. Not without a good reason.”

Rone pressed his lips together. “Idiotic politics.”

Terror filled Ilyenna’s heart. “What’re we going to do?”

He glanced around. “We don’t have enough supplies to last another couple days, let alone until the spring feast. Even if we did, I don’t think we could avoid being found for that long.”

Despite the cold, Ilyenna’s palms began to sweat. “So we go in?”

He nodded. “Most everybody’s still asleep.” He must have seen the despair in her face, for he added, “If the Tyrans catch us, Gen can’t do much to help. But if you can just get to the clan house, he’ll be able to claim you’re his responsibility.”

She felt bile rising in her throat. “You mean for me to go in alone?”

“They’re looking for us together,” Rone said reassuringly. “It’ll be less conspicuous if we split up.” He glanced at her hair, then gently lifted the blanket from her shoulders and settled it over her head.

His movements were so tender that she wondered if she’d been wrong. Perhaps he didn’t regret what had happened between them. But then he pressed his lips to her forehead, as a brother might do, and her heart pounded with longing. He rubbed her arms. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. Smile at anyone who smiles at you. Find your way to the clan house and get inside. After that, Gen will protect you. Remember, you’re just a Riesen woman getting an early start on her chores.”

Before she could think up a protest, Rone pulled her to her feet and pushed her around the house. She was suddenly alone. Trying to hide her limp, she started into Riesenholm. He was right, the streets were nearly empty. The village looked so peaceful. Chickens wandered around, pecking at insects. A cow lowed from a barn. Ilyenna was tempted to feel ridiculous for being so terrified.

She walked past shuttered windows and wondered where the Tyran men were. How closely they were watching for her? She saw movement to the side and spun around, but she saw nothing unusual. For a moment, she stood frozen. Then, remembering Rone’s warning, she steadied herself, trying to keep her gait steady but purposeful, her traitorous brown eyes fastened to the ground.

Something darted between the houses again. Ilyenna focused and this time saw Jablana peeking around a corner, desperately motioning her forward. Thank the Balance, Ilyenna thought.

A hand came down on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” a woman asked.

Ilyenna jumped. Her heart pounding in her throat, she forced herself to calm down. “I’m fine.”

She pulled away and followed Jablana between the houses. Coming onto the uneven street, she saw nothing. She started toward the center again, her gaze searching for the sudden movement of a fairy.

But as she turned to look back, something caught her eye. A glimpse of a man behind her. She quickly looked away. He might just be a Riesen clanman, out on business. She glared at the ground. She’d drawn unnecessary attention to herself by looking for fairies. Trying to keep her movements inconspicuous, Ilyenna followed Jablana between another set of houses. Just before she rounded the corner, she looked back just in time to see the man turning after her.

He was following her.

Forgetting Rone’s warning, she rushed forward, ignoring anyone who called a greeting and desperately trying to keep from running full out. Jablana motioned for her between another set of houses, but that would bring her closer to the man following her, the man Jablana obviously couldn’t see.

Ilyenna darted across the street and between another set of houses. She turned back to see if the man was still following her. She was so busy looking over her shoulder that she ran straight into someone. Sidestepping the clanmen, she mumbled an apology and kept moving.

But the man’s hand shot out, gripping her arm. In surprise, she glanced at him. His eyes widened with both shock and pleasure. Ilyenna’s eyes darted to his clan belt.

A Tyran.

She snatched her knife and thrust it forward. The man twisted to the side. Her knife missed his guts and sliced his arm. He cursed and jumped back, grabbing for his axe. He swung it, the flat side aimed at her. She tried to drop, but he adjusted his swing and caught her on the side of her head. Light was extinguished to blackness before returning in maddening sparks that melted into colors and shapes. There was pain, but it was at an arm’s length. Ilyenna struggled to make her mind work. Her head felt as heavy as a river stone. Somehow, she managed to open her eyes.

The blurry Tyran stood above her, satisfaction on his face. “Hello, little clan mistress.”

Suddenly, hands appeared. One snatched the Tyran’s jaw; another jerked a knife through his throat. The Tyran panicked, trying to grip his axe, but then his face relaxed and he sagged. Ilyenna made out the hazy shape of a man as he caught the dead Tyran under his arms and dragged him into a barn. The man rushed back to her, his bloody hands hauling her up. She struggled, trying to pull away from him.

“Why were you running? I told you not to run.”

She knew that voice. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Rone had been following her, making sure she was all right. Like an idiot, she’d tried to escape him and had run right into a Tyran. But though her thoughts had grown a great deal clearer, her body didn’t seem to be working right. Her feet were sluggish and incredibly heavy. Rone half supported, half dragged her toward the clan house.

A man leaning against a house jumped to his feet at the sight of them. Rone hefted his axe, his face cold as ice. Indecision overwhelmed the Tyran’s face before he took off at a run. Abandoning all pretenses, Rone scooped her into his arms and ran toward the kitchen door. He tried the handle. It was barred. He kicked it repeatedly. “I have need of a healer,” he shouted.

Moments stretched on as they waited. Finally, a disheveled-looking tiam opened the door. Rone shoved past her, kicking the door shut with his heel. “Bar it!” he shouted.

As the tiam hurried to obey, a middle-aged woman appeared, tugging on her overdress. Ilyenna recognized her—the Riesen clan mistress. The older woman froze, her face veiled with shock at the sight of Ilyenna. “Bar all the doors,” she said to the tiam, “and get Gen!” Her quick eyes assessed Ilyenna, stopping where the side of the axe had met her head. She directed Rone to lay her on the table. “I’ll take her. You make sure no one gets through the front door.”

Adusting the shield on his arm, Rone cast Ilyenna a worried glance before darting from the room.

“Curse these men and their politics!” the clan mistress muttered as she searched her shelves. “Why can’t we live in peace without these idiotic games?” She dampened a rag with a tincture and pressed it to Ilyenna’s forehead.

Ilyenna sucked air through her teeth as the alcohol stung her skin.

“I’m Ressa, in case you’ve forgotten. I remember you, though.” She poured spirits into a wooden mug, then helped Ilyenna sit up and drink. Ilyenna’s eyes watered at the strength of the liquid. She hesitated to take another swallow, but the woman tipped up the mug. “You’ll be feeling a whole lot better in a few minutes.”

The spirits burned like fire. She coughed. Ressa waited until the fit subsided before pouring more down Ilyenna’s throat. The herbs inside were strong as well. Her belly warmed.

Her hands as quick as her eyes, Ressa wiped Ilyenna’s wound and smeared her head with a familiar-smelling salve before pressing a damp, cool cloth over it.

Someone pounded so hard on the door to the great hall that Ilyenna wondered if it would vibrate off its hinges. Ressa paused, anxiety writing deep lines in her face. There were shuffling footsteps, and then the door creaked open.