Volar’s sigh was low, rolling thunder. “We had a king, though he did not possess Halvor’s gift. None have in my time, or in remembering. Uten kings do not sit on a throne while the rest labor. Our king was a smith who worked iron in the heart of the mountain. He heard truth there, where few of us could venture. A month after the duke entered our valley, our king was found dead, his own sword through his heart.”
“Who killed him?” I asked.
“Some uten believed it was his son, Ynnix, hungry for his father’s throne. But it could not be proved. After the king’s death, most believed that Halvor’s gift rested with the duke. Perhaps the uten had grown so corrupt that none deserved to bear it.”
Volar sighed again. “I tell you this so you understand why the uten would follow a lité. We needed a ruler to lead us from the undoing that was our king’s death. But now I do not know. If this was stone, I would not cut farther into it. Perhaps I will go home to the mountains and the sea.”
“You can’t just leave,” I said. “You can’t let the army attack an innocent city!”
“Innocent?” rumbled Volar. “Two of our scouts were killed because of your city. Two good uten dead because of the lies of your champion. One was my sister-son.”
Sky above, I’d killed Volar’s nephew. That was why he’d been so determined to protect his friends. I didn’t realize I was gripping Galen’s arm so tightly until his hand settled over mine.
Volar’s voice dropped as he retreated into the past. “I am told he swore he believed the … champion and not the duke. And then he died. It is an awful thing to doubt the duke’s word, it is …” He waved his hand. “… an act against the king.”
“Treason?” suggested Galen.
“Yes. The duke hears truth. To doubt him is to doubt the high king’s spirit.” Volar shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling like a mountain shifting.
“But two liten were killed today,” I whispered.
“The army will not listen to me, even if I had words to speak. I am only a mountain-breaker. The Deathless are the duke’s captains.”
“Are they deathless?” asked Galen.
“No.” Volar shook his head. “But they must prove their loyalty. I am told they visit the pens to …”
He did not have to finish the sentence.
“But surely there are other uten like you! Uten who don’t want this war!”
“Uten who will challenge the duke and his Deathless, Hillock? So far from the Belmor? The other uten cannot hear anything but words when liten speak. I have asked them this. So they will hold to the duke, who bears Halvor’s spirit. They will trust him.”
“Even if he tells them to slaughter the people of Reggen? You didn’t kill me, Volar. And the scouts! They didn’t kill the boy they caught. They let him go back to the city.”
Galen squeezed my hand so tightly I almost cried out. I turned and saw the fear in his eyes.
Sky above, I’d mentioned the scouts.
He tried to fill my horrified silence. “What a man does on his own is different from what he will do when he is part of an army, Saville.”
“What do you know of the scouts, Hillock? Of my sister-son?”
I wanted to run. I wanted to cry. I wanted to give Volar those last precious memories of his nephew—how he’d been a worthy adversary. How he didn’t kill me because of Oma. Volar’s sister.
Then I remembered Volar’s fury when he’d pulled me from the river.
Galen yanked on my hand, his message clear: Don’t tell him!
“I saw them with the tailor,” I said slowly. “I saw them set the boy down.”
“How did you see this?”
Galen did not give me the chance to answer. “Many watched from the gates.”
“Is this the truth, Hillock?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Volar tilted his head. “I would say that sounds like a lie, if I did not know you.”
I sat blinking back tears.
Finally, Volar sighed. “Your voices are small. Perhaps I do not hear your hearts so well as I thought.”
Galen jumped to his feet, pulling me up beside him. “We must go, Volar. We must be back to Reggen before dawn.”
“Yes,” said the giant. He must hear how my heart raced, how my breath caught in my throat. “It is good to know there are liten worthy of trust. You are true as stone.”
I thought the guilt would strangle me.
Galen spoke for us both. “I wish you well, Volar.”
The giant nodded. “It will not be safe for you to return. They will be suspicious if I leave a third night.”
Galen tugged me toward the Kriva, then stopped and looked back at Volar. “I have one more question.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“Do you have stories of a giant … an uten with a deathless heart?”
“An ute …,” Volar corrected, then he folded his arms and dropped his head. He reminded me of Galen, deep in thought.
“There are stories, from a different age, of a king. An abomination. He tore his heart from his body and hid it in a safe place. He could not be killed until a warrior found his heart.” Volar shook his head. “It is a child’s tale, one you must put from your mind. How would it be done, king’s cousin? You know it could not be done.”
“Thank you,” said Galen. “Fare you well, Volar.”
“And you,” said the giant.
Galen pulled me into the water and we swam to the far bank. The moment I stood dripping on the cliffside of the Kriva, Galen turned on me.
“What were you thinking, mentioning the scouts like that? Have you lost your mind?”
I’d never seen Galen so angry. There was no silence, no stillness in it this time. It was infuriating—and I couldn’t even shout back at him because the giants were just across the Kriva.
“He needed to know other giants might listen to him! He needed to know the lies he hears in the duke’s voice are real. Now he doubts himself even more!”
“He nearly guessed that you were the champion. How could you be so reckless?”
I jabbed a finger at him. “You knew this would be dangerous, Galen Verras!”
He took me by the shoulders. “What would I have done if you’d been hurt?”
My retort died when I saw his face. He wasn’t talking about a tailor for Reggen, about keeping the city content. He was talking about me. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost me.
Sky above.
Galen was just as surprised as I was—he blinked as if something bright had flashed before him. We faced each other, still as stone, his hands warm on my shoulders.
That day the duke visited the court, when Galen had pleaded with the king to act, I’d wondered what it would be like to have someone look at me with that much hope, that much confidence. Now I knew. I knew, and I could feel myself begin to unravel.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d lose myself to Galen Verras and never find myself again when he married his falcon bride. So I pretended that I hadn’t seen a thing, and buried the part of me that had been glad to see it.
“If I’d been hurt?” I echoed. “If something had happened to me, you could put some lad on the palace balcony and have him wave to the people!”
It flew out as fast as a bolt from a crossbow. And struck as hard.
Galen dropped his hands and stepped back, scowling at me in the moonlight. Before I could speak, he marched off toward the cave.
I stared after him, not knowing whether I was relieved or miserable to have him move away. Finally, I silently followed him, telling myself the entire league and a half that my legs trembled only from swimming so long.
By the time we neared the foundation stones, the world seemed gray, the cave’s opening back to Reggen, a dark smudge in the predawn.
Galen found our lanterns and handed one to me without meeting my eye.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You never treated me like a pawn. Not once.”
It was a hurried darn
ing—an attempt to stitch the ragged edges of the conversation back together.
He finally looked at me, and I wished he hadn’t. He was so serious, so guarded. “Let’s just get back.” He lit his lantern with a single strike. “Leymonn will send men into the caves at dawn to clear the tunnel to the cliffs.”
I waited for an explanation.
“I had to send for help. I couldn’t clear it alone. You were—”
I’d been grieving the Tailor and sneaking out of Reggen.
The lantern threw bruiselike shadows over Galen’s face. “I still don’t know if I made the right decision, so I’m going to be there when Leymonn’s men arrive.”
I lit my lantern. “Let’s go, then.”
It felt good to have a purpose. Leymonn’s arrival gave us something to talk about. Tomorrow, I’d act as though I’d never thought of kissing Galen Verras. He’d forget how worried he’d been for me. Tomorrow, we’d be as we had before—or at least, we’d pretend we were.
Galen followed the strips of homespun, and I followed him. The way seemed darker just knowing Leymonn would soon be in these caves.
Galen stopped so suddenly I almost walked into his back. “I haven’t seen a strip for a while.”
I squeezed beside him, peering up the path. No homespun.
I swung the lantern to look back the way we had come. Nothing.
“Does anything look familiar?”
I tried to get my bearings. “We should have passed through the second rockfall by now. I should have tied the strips around the stone. And when I slipped on the way down …”
“… it cleared the path.” Galen nodded slowly. “And I just kept walking. I don’t know how long it’s been since I saw a marker.”
I sat and started ripping at the cuffs of my pants. “I’m not moving until we can keep track of where we are.”
“I don’t think this is a dead end. Look.”
I saw the white paint on the stone.
Galen inspected the marking. “Like the ones I follow to go from one room in the castle to another.”
He turned to me. It was almost a conversation, both of us weighing whether we should retrace our path or continue on.
“You should be there when Leymonn sends his men into the caves I’ll be right behind you.”
We stopped every few strides to tie a strip around the stone. Galen grew quiet, his shoulders hunched as he followed the markings.
Then he stopped again, suddenly, and this time, I did bump into him. He reached behind for me, to keep me from falling. “It’s daylight. Look.”
I saw a pale glow ahead.
“It’s near the wall, in the old part of Reggen … I don’t like this.”
“Daylight?” I asked.
“You in daylight.” He held the lantern up, studying me. “Pull your hair back.”
“But people will see the birthmark.”
“Your hair looks too much like a girl’s right now. It curled in the water.” He reached toward my face as if he would tuck it back. Just as quickly, he pulled his hand away.
I pretended I didn’t notice, running my fingers through my hair to smooth it, then tying it at the nape of my neck with a bit of homespun.
“Better?” I asked.
“Yes. Much.” He nodded. “Now flip your collar up. It’ll hide the birthmark.”
I did, then glanced up for approval.
Another nod, and in the morning light, I saw something like sadness in his eyes. No, it was loneliness.
We were both of us alone again.
I pushed past Galen and ran into the daylight.
Chapter 32
The moment I reached the street, I felt as if no disguise was good enough. I slid to a stop and waited for Galen to join me.
“Let’s go.”
We hurried up one street and then another. Galen led us within a street of the Tailor’s shop. The road was clogged with people. Had something happened to the shop? I hopped up on a crate to get a better look.
A crowd was gathered around the narrow little door. It looked as though they’d been there all night waiting for help that would not come.
Galen motioned to me. “Come on, Saville. We need to hurry.”
I hopped down and landed wrong, sending the crate clattering away. We traveled two paces before the first shout. “The tailor! He’s come.”
Galen’s hand caught my back and propelled me forward. “Move, Saville!”
The crowd followed us, and the shouting grew closer. Galen pushed me behind him and turned to face them, hands raised. “I am not the tailor! It isn’t me!”
I ducked my head and scurried away while he drew their attention.
“He’s too dark to be the tailor.”
“Too old! The tailor was just a lad!”
Then someone grabbed my arm. “Tailor? Is it you?” It was a scared, skinny man. I tried to pull free, but he held tight and shouted, “I see it! Fate’s Kiss!” He tried to touch the birthmark, as if it would bring him good fortune.
I wrenched away, but he kept hold of my shirt. I felt my sleeve tear.
“It’s the champion! Behind the other one.”
Hands grasped at me from all sides, the crowd separating me from Galen.
“Please, lad, tell us your plan for routing the giants. Let us help you.”
“You have to save us from the deathless duke.”
“My little ones, they’re too young to be eaten by giants.”
It was like drowning, the crowd pressing closer and closer, reaching for me. I didn’t speak, afraid my voice would give me away.
“Say something, lad!”
I tried to squirm away, but they took hold of my clothing, anything to keep me with them. I heard another rip, and then another.
“I’ve a bit of his shirt!” cried a woman, waving it like a flag. “It’ll protect me from the giants!”
Another rip, and I felt the morning breeze on my shoulder. “I’ll hold it while I pray for you, lad!”
Where was Galen?
And then I was drowning, the current pulling me under, beating me against buildings, and all the while I kept my arms wrapped around my middle and told myself not to scream, not to speak. It would be over soon.
It was—in a heartbeat, in a breath.
The people who had pressed against me stepped back, eyes wide, mouths slack. My shirt was torn to tatters, strips of it hanging from my waist. My still-wet trousers clung to me, revealing hips more rounded than the softest lad could boast. The binding around my chest remained, still looped over one shoulder, but with no shirt to cover it.… I wrapped my arms more tightly around myself.
“A girl?” a voice cried, and the word echoed back through the crowd. Shock changed to anger. Hands clenched. Eyes narrowed.
“Please,” I shouted. “I didn’t mean to—”
My words were lost in the howls of outrage. One face stood out: a woman, her eyes wide with fear as she realized that there was no one to save her and her babies. She shook her head, then turned away.
Fists and stones rained down on me. I put my hands over my head to protect myself, but it did little good. The world had grown so loud I couldn’t make out individual sounds. Just don’t fall down, I thought. Don’t fall. They can kick you if you fall.
Finally, one sound—my name—rose over the crowd. I saw Galen, sitting above everyone else. He sat on a horse that he must have plundered from a cart. And he was reaching toward me.
“Saville!”
I tensed my body, and the moment I felt a give in the press around me, I lunged. He caught my arm, tugging me up, and swinging me in front of him.
He shouted something as we pushed through the crowd. But hands still caught at us, and something rough struck the side of my head. The horse began to move faster, yet I couldn’t hear the sound of its hoofbeats, and the shouts grew faint.
Galen leaned over me, as if I wasn’t giving him enough room. I didn’t mind. It felt good to lie over the horse. I’d have slept right
there if it weren’t for the rocks hitting my shoulders and arms.
“Saville!” Galen’s arm looped around my waist. I felt the dampness of his shirt against my back. “Sit up! I can’t protect you if you don’t sit up.”
Then there wasn’t anything striking me because he was there. I wondered if the stones were hitting him. The horse moved into a canter, its hooves ringing against the cobblestones. My head hurt, hurt, hurt, but I made myself sit up. Galen’s arm tightened around my waist. I was sure, somehow, that he was the only thing holding me together.
He was angry. I heard him curse as we tore toward the castle, and I felt the roughness of his cheek against the side of my head that didn’t ache.
Then a shadow fell over us.
“Close the gates!” he shouted. “Close the gates!”
I knew when he slid off the horse—I felt the wind across my shoulders and back.
“Come on, Saville.” He helped me down, keeping an arm around my waist as he walked me toward the small, dark door, just as he had the first day he’d brought me to the palace.
“They know,” I whispered. “They know that I’m the champion. The whole city knows.”
“Yes. They do.”
“I’m sorry,” I said as he led me into his room, but he didn’t hear. He was shouting down the hall about a doctor. He sat me in my favorite chair, the one with the patchwork, and knelt in front of me.
I shivered all over, even though I wasn’t cold.
He shook me very gently. “Saville, look at me.”
I did, but he didn’t notice; he was checking me, my arms especially. They were covered in scratches, and bruises were beginning to darken my skin, even though I couldn’t yet feel them.
I couldn’t feel anything. But I could tell Galen was scared, though we’d left the crowd far behind.
“Don’t worry.” The words were so hard to find. “We’re safe now, both of us. Why are you worried?”
He looked at me and whispered, “You silly, silly girl.” And then he turned my chin and looked at the right side of my head, the side that hurt.
“Sky above.” He shook his sleeve down over his hand, then began to wipe at my neck and cheek. His sleeve came back scarlet. He dabbed at it again, then gently pushed my hair back so he could see the cut better.
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