“Frostbite,” she replied softly.
Ressa fingered the stumps. “The healer did good work.”
Ilyenna bit the inside of her cheek. Having her toes cut off hadn’t been pleasant. Waking up from her fevered dreams to discover her mother was dead had been much worse.
Ressa studied Ilyenna’s naked body, frowning. She sighed and tugged the underdress over Ilyenna’s head. Then she braided Ilyenna’s hair and rubbed more ointment into her wound.
“There now. Why don’t you rest, hmm? When you’re ready, come down and I’ll feed you a hearty meal.”
“I won’t be able to sleep,” Ilyenna replied, but the older clan mistress was already out the door. Ilyenna lay back on the bed and suddenly couldn’t keep her eyes open. “Ressa must have put something in that tea,” she mumbled just before she fell asleep.
***
It was early in the morning. Ilyenna stood at the clan-house doors, watching and waiting. Ressa had indeed fed her, and fed her, and fed her again, until Ilyenna was sure she’d burst. But she couldn’t seem to get enough food, and if she went too long between meals, she became ill. Most of the time, she felt exhausted. Ressa had said recovering from Darrien’s treatment might take a year or more. Still, clean, fed, and with a new clan belt around her waist, Ilyenna felt more herself than she had since Undon had attacked the Argons. But she was miserable inside. Rone and the other men had been gone for over a week, and she was leaving for the spring feast as soon as Ressa finished her packing. When the Riesen clan mistress hadn’t been fussing over Ilyenna, the two of them had been filling wagonload after wagonload with goods to sell.
The village was in a similar uproar. The Riesen grew rye by the bushel and made rye whiskey by the barrel. They also raised cattle and grew hay. At the spring feast, they’d trade the excess for things like Tyran flour, baskets, and beer; Bassen linen, underdresses, dye, rope, and paper; and Shyle sheep, wool, yarn, blankets, felt, vellum, and overdresses. The other clans would also trade for goods not available in their own lands. There were three feasts a year—spring, high summer, and autumn.
At each feast, the clan chiefs and clan mistresses would meet together as the High Council. They dictated clan law and settled disputes between clans. This year Ilyenna would’ve sat as one of them. But now, as a tiam, she wouldn’t have a place. In fact, she could lose her title altogether. It was infuriating. And she missed Rone. She wanted to face him and apologize, and so she waited, her eyes straining for any glimpse of riders.
Ressa bustled behind her, shooing Ilyenna out the door and closing it after her. “Watching for him won’t make him appear any sooner,” she chided as she took Ilyenna’s arm and steered her toward one of the wagons. “Come, child. He’ll catch up.”
Ilyenna let herself be led to the wagon, where three Riesen men waited on horseback. Her own personal guard. They weren’t the only men who had come back. Gen had ordered them to return to guard either the village or the wagons. “How long will our journey take?” Ilyenna asked.
Ressa pulled her wild hair out of her eyes. “I already told you, child, we’ll be there in three days.”
More than two weeks after Ilyenna and Rone had escaped from Undon, she would finally bring her grievances to the Council. Unable to help herself, she spent most of the morning straining to look behind them. The Riesen were an animated group, singing songs about rye, harvesting, and whiskey. Staring at the rippling grasses all around them, Ilyenna couldn’t help but compare the rolling hills of grain and the bright sunshine to the cool mountains and shady forests of the Shyle.
She missed the bleating of the sheep, Enrid’s mutton stew, and the mountain breezes on her face. She missed her father and her brother and the yelps of the sheep dogs. She kept searching for the mountains to use as a compass point, and the constant straining made her eyes tired.
Occasionally, Ilyenna caught sight of a summer fairy. Usually, they blended in with nature, appearing as a butterfly, a bird, or a leaf on the wind. Most of the fairies darted away as if they felt her gaze on them, but a few stared back at her.
When the travelers stopped at a stream for lunch, Ilyenna noticed a slate gray fairy with mossy wings, dancing on the rocks. As they’d passed beneath a stand of trees, a fairy with orange eyes and the wings of a maple leaf watched her from inside an empty bird’s nest. The group camped for the night beside a small pond, and Ilyenna saw a fairy with iridescent skin and dragonfly wings perched atop a water lily. And nearly every butterfly drinking nectar was actually a fairy. Ilyenna tried to catch sight of Jablana, but there was no sign of the little pink fairy. Ilyenna hoped the summer queen wouldn’t punish Jablana for helping her. She didn’t want to get the fairy into trouble.
After dinner, the Reisen began dancing. Ilyenna went to her blankets under the wagon, determined to watch for Rone. Instead, she immediately fell asleep.
She could see the mountains in the distance, could almost taste the glacier-fed streams, the cold water numbing her throat. Lifting her skirts, she hurried forward. But the ground under her gave way, and her home kept moving farther from her no matter how fast she ran. Frustrated, she stopped. The land stilled.
In the distance, she saw her father and brother laughing as they rode from the forest into the lower meadows. She shouted for them, calling for them to come for her. But they couldn’t seem to hear her and never once looked her way.
Rone galloped up from behind them. The smile on his face made Ilyenna’s chest ache. She shouted at him, begging him to come to her. He looked at her sadly as if he wished he could.
Gasping, Ilyenna jerked upright, smacking her head on the underside of the wagon. She rubbed the sore spot, her gaze darting around. It was dark, and Ressa slept soundly next to her. The guards were positioned around the wagon, also asleep. Flushed with heat, Ilyenna tugged the woolen blankets off. Her underdress was heavy with sweat. The cool air felt wonderful against her skin.
She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d never see her home again, never be a part of her family again. And she worried that no matter how much Rone might want to, he’d never see her as anything but a sister.
Unable to sit still, she wrapped up in one of her blankets, tiptoed past the guards, and began walking the perimeter of the camp. A sentinel nodded to her. Embarrassed for not putting on her overdress, she nervously tried to smooth down the hair that had escaped from her unruly braid.
In the light of a dying fire, Ilyenna saw something move. She froze, her breathing coming up short. Rone’s glittering eyes watched her from beneath one of the wagons.
Her hand fluttered to her chest. Not thinking, she took a step forward and opened her mouth to speak. Rone shook his head, his finger pressed to his lips as he glanced at the sleeping men around him. He eased out of his blankets, grabbed his axe, and walked toward her.
Without a word, he took her hand and led her away from the wagons.
The guard nodded to them as they passed him, a teasing smile on his face.
“When did you get in?” Ilyenna whispered.
The muscles in Rone’s jaw bulged. “Just before supper.”
She was still awake then. Why hadn’t he found her?
Rone pulled her to a stop out of the guard’s hearing, but not out of his line of sight. Before Rone could say a word, she blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you!”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “You were pretty drunk.”
She watched him stare back at the wagons as if he’d give anything to be back there. By the Balance, his indifference was killing her. “So-so you forgive me?”
“Of course.” He took a step toward the camp. “Is that all you wanted to say, because we shouldn’t be seen together like this.”
Ilyenna folded her arms protectively over her chest and tried to sound indifferent. “Like what?”
He finally glanced at her briefly. “I don’t want to start any rumors.”
She dropped her head, unable to look at him. But she had to ask the question. “Do you regret that night?” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other before forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I have to know.”
He jammed his thumbs in his clan belt and looked away from her, the muscles in his jaw working. “Of course I regret it.”
For a moment, her mind refused to accept his answer. But when it did, she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her. Fat tears spilled down her cheeks. Not trusting herself to speak, she hurried past him, toward camp.
Rone grabbed her wrist. “Ilyenna, please. I’m sorry. I thought you’d understand.”
She understood perfectly. Tears coursed steadily down her face, and she could barely hold back her sobs. “There’s nothing more to say, Rone, so let me go.”
He hesitated, then released her. She went from him like a dove freed from its cage. He called something after her, but she didn’t stop. She went back under the wagon to sob silently until morning came.
18. New Life
Ressa kept glancing at Ilyenna’s red, puffy eyes. “We’ll be seeing Cardenholm soon.”
At least the Riesen clan mistress seemed to know better than to pry. For that, Ilyenna was grateful. But if she continued to remain silent, the older woman might feel it necessary to ask questions, so Ilyenna said, “It’s been years since I’ve been to Cardenholm.” Even this far away, she could smell the briny water and the village—fish and smoke. The smoke she could stand. It was the fish that turned her stomach. She tried to take shallow breaths. How could people eat something that smelled so bad?