Page 19 of The Shrouded Queen
We were going to crossthat?
Sillia walked her horse onto the death trap without hesitation, but Velka paused behind her. She glanced at me. “We have an extra horse,” she offered. “We could tie her to mine. She won’t go anywhere and it’ll be better weight distribution.”
“She weighs nearly nothing,” Keir replied. “We’ll be fine.”
Velka looked like she wanted to argue further, but she just gave a deferential nod and urged her horse forward, behind Sillia.
Keir followed, pausing just before we stepped onto it. “Don’t look down.” As soon as he said the words, I couldn’t help but glance over the lip of the cliff.
It plunged hundreds of feet to a bottom filled with boulders and tree roots. My gut twisted. I didn’t have a problem with heights, but nothing about this looked safe. If we fell—or if I was pushed—I’d be dead instantly. Though perhaps it would be a better fate than whatever awaited me with Rade.
Keir chuckled. “I warned you. Now try not to move too much.” His arm tightened around my waist, holding me firmly in place. My sensitive back gave an angry throb, but I didn’t bother trying to readjust myself. I wrapped my fingers around the pommel of the saddle, strangling it, as Velka and Sillia disappeared over the hump. Keir clicked his tongue, and then our horse was stepping onto the frail bridge.
The moment our weight was added, pebbles along the edges broke off and plummeted to the ground below. I stopped breathing, as if the added weight of oxygen would be what sent us tumbling after those pebbles.
Part of me wanted to squeeze my eyes shut until it was over, but my body refused to obey. I couldn’t stop staring at the unstableground of the bridge. At a sudden crack, my body jolted. A fissure slithered open alongside us. I gasped, my heart a deafening drum in my ears.
“We’re not cannibals.”
The random statement drew my focus away from the death that stalked us. “What?”
“I said I’d give you an answer if you begged. That’s the one I’m giving you. We’re not cannibals. Never have been, don’t really plan to be in the future.”
And then it was over. Our saddle’s rocking gentled as our horse reached solid ground. The bridge was behind us. Velka and Sillia walked calmly ahead of us, as if we hadn’t all just risked our lives. I craned my neck to look at Keir.
His expression was as unbothered as Velka’s and Sillia’s, despite the arm still clenched tightly around my midsection. He shrugged. “Then again, maybe I’m lying. I guess there’s really no way for you to know. Until it’s too late.” He grinned and flicked the horse’s reins, not stopping to see if the rest of his people made it over the bridge. Knowing they would. Only when we were a good distance away did he finally remove his arm from my waist.
Of course Keir was lying. There were three things I knew for sure about the Kaldfolk—they were shape-shifters, they were cannibals, and they were heretics. If Keir was trying to lull me into a false sense of security, he would not succeed. As long as I was with the Kaldfolk, I would remain braced for death or worse. His assurances on the bridge were just part of his twisted sense of entertainment.
Because hewastwisted. They all were.
And I was willing to bet King Rade would be the worst of them all.
NINEAMUNET
Jasim clicked his tongue as he examined the pear in his hand. “There’s a bruise on the side of it. It’s hardly worth half a crown.”
The man behind the table gestured to the plethora of baskets in front of him, all filled with pears. “Then pick another one. But five crowns is the price.”
“I’ll give you one.”
“Five.”
I fisted my hands against my empty stomach and mumbled, “Just give him five.”
Jasim shot me a dark look. Darker than the looks he’d been sending me the whole way to this disgusting outpost. “It isn’t worth five crowns,” he hissed back to me. “None of these are.”
“We have to eat.”
“We eat what we can afford.”
“I can afford a damn pear.”
“Not right now you can’t.”
I glared at him, mentally cursing as my stomach rumbled. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d really felt hunger. It was nearly as unpleasant as the itch that had started up at the back of my neck. Another symptom of not talking to Shaya for several days. Equally as delightful as the din in my head, which was no longer scratching but tapping. A claw against glass.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
