Page 67 of Never Ever After

The witch’s eyes gleam like those of a mountain cat, one intent on ripping my throat out. As she lunges at me, I dart back, dragging Lady Ruilin with me.

“Try that again and we’ll learn if nobles bleed the same as the rest of us.” My voice is guttural and harsh. Threats mean nothing if she doesn’t believe me. “Since I was a girl, my uncle taught me how to gut fish and slit the throats of animals we’d trapped.” I speak with deliberate cruelty, the sight of the blood spilling from Jin’s wound spurring me on. “Give him the cure—now.”

She doesn’t move, nor do I, my hand beginning to ache from holding the knife. Finally, the witch reaches into her sleeve and pulls out a porcelain bottle. She stalks toward Jin, plucks out the stopper, then empties a greenish liquid over his wound. As it seeps in, the blood flow halts, the color returning to Jin’s face.

“She’s not the monster you think she is,” he tells me quietly. “Let Lady Ruilin go.”

“What if you’re wrong?” My grip doesn’t loosen; I don’t want to release Lady Ruilin yet. Jin thinks the witch won’t kill us, but from what I’ve seen she won’t show any restraint.

As the witch’s mouth twists with fury, Jin moves between us. “Your quarrel is with me. Speak to me, rather than throwing knives. Let the others leave.”

“How solicitous you are of this girl. Have you forgotten your own people? The debt you owe to mine?” She almost spits the last.

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” he hurls back—almost furiously.

“What does she mean?” A tremor ripples along my spine. “Why are you beholden to her people?”

“I’ll explain later,” he replies. “Just let Lady Ruilin go.”

My arm is almost numb, the mark on my hand hurting as the throbbing in my head intensifies. Not now, I pray, as my vision blurs. “If I release her, do you promise not to hurt me?” Soon, I won’t have a choice—my strength ebbing, my hold wavering.

As she nods, I release Lady Ruilin. She rushes toward the witch, who moves in front of her protectively. I brace for an attack, but she keeps her word.

“Why does she hate you?” I ask Jin.

“She blames my people for what happened to hers.”

“Her people… are they from Mist Island?” I’m trying to piece together the little I know, to not think too hard of the stories about them.

“Those of Thorn Valley failed us,” the witch seethes. “They shouldn’t have allowed the soldiers from the Iron Mountains to cross their land, to threaten my home, to take what didn’t belong to them.”

“The Iron Mountains soldiers deceived us, a grave mistake that we regret more than you know—”

“What is your regret worth? Will it bring my family back, those who died?” Grief courses beneath her rage, the rawness of her emotion stirring me… maybe because I know what it’s like to lose those you love.

“If regret could change the past, I would have rewritten it a thousand times over.” Jin’s eyes blaze. “You’re not the only one who lost family that day. My father died protecting your people—as our ruler, he bore the greatest burden upon himself. As I was too young to take the throne, my uncle became the regent. We accept the burden of our mistakes, we pay for them each day.”

Lord Chao is his uncle? No wonder he allowed Jin free rein. My chest clenches for his loss, yet the pain in my head sharpens, eclipsing all else. “Earlier, you said you’re on the ‘same side,’” I remind him. “Why is Thorn Valley protecting Mist Island? Aren’t you enemies? What of the alliance with the Iron Mountains?”

When he doesn’t reply, I stare stonily at him. “You’re in my debt; I deserve to know everything.”

He holds my gaze, his expression softening. “When Mist Island retaliated to attack the Iron Mountains, they were weakened, they’d underestimated the enemy. To conceal their vulnerability and give them an excuse to withdraw, Thorn Valley pretended to ally with the Iron Mountains—though we hated them for all they’d done. They think we keep them safe, that they need us. This also allows us to keep a step ahead of the Iron Mountains’ plans, should they move to strike our realm again. Their ambitions threaten us all.” He nods at the witch. “We don’t like each other but we’re working toward the same end. We know who the real enemy is.”

It should frighten me, the deceit Jin is capable of. Thorn Valley was never a friend of the Iron Mountains—I can’t be on their side, it’s far too dangerous.

“I won’t kill you,” the witch tells him harshly. “But we aren’t friends.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “You should return with me. Your father has been searching for you.”

“Why do you think I covered my face?” She wrinkles her nose. It makes her look more normal, less terrifying. “I promised the Elders that I’d search for the starfire; it’s why they allowed me to leave—I didn’t tell them the other reason I left. I began my search in the Iron Mountains but couldn’t enter the Palace of Nine Hills. They’ve forged a type of iron that can sense those with magic, not just suppress it.”

The tablet by the palace entrance. The creature in the forge, its magic flowing over the iron. This secret weighs heavier. If I were alone with Jin, I’d tell him—but not in front of this witch and her cold and penetrating gaze.

“How did you end up here?” Jin asks her.

“After leaving the Iron Mountains, I ventured to the Amber Forest, seeking the starfire owned by the duke. I heard his daughter needed aid for a delicate task. I met Lady Ruilin, and we struck a deal. I helped her out of an unwanted betrothal, and she offered me the pretty chain around her neck.”

Jin’s eyes flare. “Do you have it?”