sacrifice our pathetic half-lives in the valley only to lose her.’
With all the strength she could muster, Phaedra untangled herself from her meagre blanket and wearily got to her feet.
‘How long has she been gone?’ she asked.
‘Since yesterday evening, although she did leave that,’ Jorja said, indicating a dead rodent, pierced with a sharp twig through its length, ‘outside the entrance this morning.’
‘Ready for roasting,’ Florenza said. ‘You’re wrong, Cora. She’s not completely useless.’
‘She revolts me,’ Ginny muttered.
‘Yes, but you’ll be the first one to eat anything she hunts,’ Jorja said.
That began another round of bickering. Phaedra ignored them and walked to the entrance.
‘Take a blanket,’ Cora said, and Phaedra heard a touch of kindness in her voice.
She knew exactly where to find her. When Phaedra had gone searching for Quintana two days past, before those terrifying moments with the Queen and Lucian, she had come across a small collection of berries and nuts and a large amount of ferns and moss pulled from the ground. Phaedra imagined Quintana was planning to burrow herself into the ground like the little rat that she was.
When Phaedra reached the small clearing, she searched the area for anything that resembled a hiding place. When she saw what looked to be a shelter made of bracken and bramble, she bent to peer in and saw the Princess instantly.
‘You can’t stay in there,’ Phaedra called out. ‘Do you want a repeat of what happened with the Queen of Lumatere?’
‘Well, I’m not returning to the coven,’ Quintana responded briskly.
Phaedra got to her knees and crawled into the space, half-impressed with the underground nest Quintana had built for herself. It was a space big enough for two or three, but the Princess refused to make room. Phaedra shoved the girl aside and wrapped her blanket around herself, shivering, but soon Quintana clutched at the end of blanket and they were forced to huddle together. And there they sat for a while in hostile silence.
‘You need to give me most of that blanket,’ Quintana ordered after some time. ‘I’m with child and I’m covering up for two. I don’t like the cold. Did I not mention that?’
Phaedra bristled. ‘More than once.’
The Princess watched her closely.
‘Are they still bickering? What are they saying back there?’
‘That we have a lot in common, you and I. Both useless.’
The Princess curled her lip in disgust. ‘What does one have to do in this kingdom to be considered useful?’
Phaedra had to agree and was glad to hear that the Princess recognised Phaedra’s efforts.
‘I don’t see any of them staking rodents and catching hares,’ Her Royal Awfulness continued. ‘I think I’m the least useless Charynite in these parts, if you ask me.’
‘And me? I saved your life!’ Phaedra said. ‘A thank you would be appreciated.’
A show of savage teeth this time. ‘Oh, you’re one of those,’ the Princess said.
‘One of what?’
‘One of those who need to be told their worth over and over again by others. Do you know who tells me my worth, Phaedra of Alonso?’
The Princess pointed a hard finger to her own chest.
‘Me. I determine my own worth. If I had to rely on others I’d have lain down and died waiting. See this,’ she said, pointing to her belly. ‘This is Charyn. It can ill afford a cursebreaker who’s waiting for everyone’s approval.’
She studied Phaedra suspiciously. Phaedra could sense she was not going to like the next words that came from Quintana’s mouth.
‘You’re more useless than I am. That piece-of-nothing girl Ginny told me your Mont husband sent you back and that ugly hag Cora mentioned it, too.’
Phaedra bristled. Not only did the Princess have the habit of repeating everyone’s favourite description of each other, but Phaedra’s marriage to Lucian was now being discussed with vigour among the women. How many of them had ridiculed her behind her back?
‘Did your Mont husband not enjoying swiving you? Is that what it was?’
Phaedra was mortified to hear such filth come out of the girl’s mouth. She yanked Cora’s blanket away.
‘If my father were here, he would wash your mouth out to hear such a word,’ she said.
‘Well, he’s not here, Phaedra of Alonso. He’s too busy trying to starve the people of the valley. Do you know what Gargarin of Abroi says?’
‘I don’t care!’
‘That it is what a man does for strangers that counts more than what he does for his family.’
‘Oh, really,’ Phaedra asked. ‘And what have you and your father done for strangers?’
The girl’s hand suddenly gripped Phaedra’s mouth.
‘You’ll not enjoy my response to that question,’ the Princess said. ‘You don’t seem the type to stomach such filth.’
She shoved Phaedra away. ‘Leave me in peace. I’ll take care of the little King on my own.’
Chapter 12
There had been silence between the three of them for most of the next day. Gargarin had suggested that they first return to the inn for their horse and then head north to the Lascow Mountains. If there were any chance of raising an army, it would be with the people grieving the heir Tariq and his family.
‘What are your thoughts?’ Gargarin asked Froi.
‘Whatever you think is right,’ Froi replied.
When they reached the inn, however, Gargarin and Lirah’s horse was gone. Stolen. The stable boy knew little, except that out of all the horses taking shelter, theirs was the only one gone. Froi was suspicious.
So Lirah rode with Gargarin on Froi’s horse and Froi kept up with them on foot. Once or twice he felt Lirah’s stare, but he couldn’t meet it. He thought of what he had told them in Paladozza that last day when he escaped with Quintana. About who he had once been on the filthy streets of the Sarnak capital. There were too many ugly memories. Too much shame. He didn’t want to see judgement in Lirah’s eyes. Froi didn’t have to worry about seeing anything in Gargarin’s eyes. Gargarin refused to look at him.
They travelled further into the woodlands that evening. It was a peculiar place where branches hung low, and bare limbs in a blue-grey mist hovered over them like the long, thin spectre of death that sometimes haunted Froi’s dreams. He knew they would soon be back in the stone terrain he had become used to. But, for now, these woodlands were a strangely familiar reminder of winter in the forest of Lumatere. Rather than feeling comforted, Froi was reminded that he no longer belonged in that kingdom.
When they were deep in the heart of the woodland, Lirah stopped the horse.
‘I can go on,’ Froi said, his voice curt. Did they think him weak? Had he shown in any way that his body didn’t have the strength it once had?
‘Well, I’m tired,’ Lirah said, dismounting. ‘I need to rest, so we rest.’
Froi made himself scarce, collecting kindling and ignoring Gargarin, who sat hunched on a log scribbling.
‘We need to write a list of where she would have gone,’ Gargarin said, not looking up. ‘We can’t leave any stone unturned. Tell me of those last moments.’
Those last moments outside the province of Paladozza. When Olivier betrayed them. And Quintana cried. For Froi. And he made a promise to protect her. And failed. And the sound of arrows as they flew past his ears. The way they felt when they tore into his body time and time again. Froi had never been injured before then. He remembered the time in Yutlind Sud when he had seen Finnikin lying face-down in a filthy river with an arrow in his side. Worse still, he remembered Isaboe’s despair. Is that what Quintana thought? That he was dead? Was she
