Page 25 of Omen of ice
“Well?” I say.
“Well, what?”
“Are you planning to untie me? Or…” I grin. “You could leave me tied up and we could play a game.”
She studies me for a moment before lifting her foot and bringing it up to rest on the back of my chair. “A game, huh?”
I swallow as she leans close, the inside of her knee brushing my shoulder. My mind spins, a whirlwind of scenarios and wild images that have no place banging around inside my head. “I promise I’m very good at it.”
“I’m sure you are.” She pushes my chair over. It topples backward with enough force to shatter the wood and rattle my head around until my vision blurs. “But my game is so much more fun.”
I cringe and dislodge myself from the bindings, then climb to my feet. “That wasn’t very nice, you know. I just went through something traumatic.”
“I’m sure you were terrified.” Gesturing to my neck, she rolls her eyes. “That cut looks bad. Should I summon a healer? Call the guards back to carry you out? Maybe I should get you a bandage and a candy?”
“Awine-flavoredcandy would be nice.”
“Come on.” She rolls her eyes and hitches a thumb over her shoulder. “We should head back to the estate.”
I nod and follow her, trying not to think of what might have happened if she hadn’t shown up when she did.
If Kitara can betray me, then anyone—anywhere—is a potential threat.
We get our horses and ride for several miles in complete silence—which is good. By the time we make it outside the market borders, I don’t trust myself to speak.
Kitara and I were nothing more than amusement for each other. But there’d been a certain level of trust and friendship. Of respect.
Or so I thought.
“You’re unusually quiet. That worries me.” The Aphelian urges her horse forward to keep pace with mine.
I keep my eyes on the trail, focusing on my breathing. I feel anger bubbling inside, and with it, my magic. Each step away from the market, closer to the estate, feeds the flame burning in my gut. “Missing my lyrical voice, Aphelian?”
“More like wondering what you’re plotting inside that devious brain of yours.”
I don’t reply, and she sighs.
“You know, there’s no hammond root in ansted pie.”
“Huh?”
“The ingredient Kitara sent me to get, the one she said she was there for—it doesn’t go in the pie.”
I pull up on the reins and bring my horse to a stop. “How do you know that?”
“I used to help with the cooking in Lunal. Twice a month, the Order makes a feast for the village. We don’t attend, of course.”
“What are you saying?” The anger in my gut churns, turning darker, more volatile. “That you knew she was lying?”
“I did.”
“And you let me go off with her?” I twist in my saddle as she pulls her horse to a stop beside me.
“Would you have listened to me if I’d told you the truth?”
I want to insist that I would have, but we both know I wouldn’t. It just makes the whole thing worse, and I know what’s coming. I feel it building, and there isn’t much time. “I need a moment. Wait here.”
I swing my leg over and jump from my horse, walking fast off the trail and into the woods.
