Page 67 of A Thieving Curse

“Your niece for your son,” Henry said sullenly. “Do we have an accord? Or should we forget the treaty?”

Father opened and closed his mouth before holding out his hand. “My son is not to be harmed.”

“Of course.” Henry clasped Father’s hand. “He will only be held in a cell until your return with a worthy bride for my son.”

Aworthybride?The guards wrenched Gareth backward, their grip making the nearly healed claw marks on his arm sting.What if he decides Elena isn’t worthy?

Gareth caught one last glimpse of Mother’s distressed face and Father’s pained eyes before the guards dragged him down the hall. Father’s knights in the courtyard drew their swords the moment the guards pulled him outside.

The Rethalis holding him shouted they were under orders, and other Rethali knights came to their defense. Gareth tensed, worried a war would break out in the middle of the courtyard.And it will be all my fault.

Father’s weary voice rang over the courtyard. “Stand down. Do not engage the Rethalis.”

Gareth caught Sir Christopher’s outraged, questioning look, and shame twisted his stomach.

The guards pushed and pulled him down a flight of stairs to a dank underground cell, mostly hidden in shadows between two torches on the opposite wall. They shoved him inside, and he stumbled forward as a door of iron bars clanged shut, and the guards turned the key in the lock.

“Enjoy your quarters, Your Grace.” The guards snickered as they walked away.

Gareth leaned back against the cold bars, his chest heaving with each breath. The dungeon stank of urine and mold. A mouse scurried past through clumps of old straw. He slid down the bars and hung his head.

Raelyn was still out there, all alone, waiting for him. He couldn’t help her. Father was in trouble because of him. He groaned and slammed his palm onto the floor. The tears he’d been denying for days flowed down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Rae,” he whispered. “I ruined everything.” He gasped for air through his sobs as a horrible thought pressed into his mind, dragging his heart down.

What if Raelyn is dead?

22

RAELYN FELL INTO a routine over the next few weeks. Somehow, even in the dark cave, her body learned when to wake her up. She alternated her mornings. Every other day she helped Meredith after breakfast—washing dishes, repairing clothing, bringing in firewood, or assisting with food. It was exhausting at first, but she grew accustomed to it.

On the mornings that Raelyn assisted Meredith, the men worked on fashioning another small side cave into a room for Lucas. She learned that several of the caves had natural vents, and they used those for chimneys with varying degrees of success. The men worked diligently, carving out rock, cutting wood beams and planks and hammering them together. Jasper was as eager to get the talkative youth out of his room as Lucas was to escape Jasper’s snores.

On the other mornings, Raelyn either helped Peter with the goats or checked traps with Alexander. She didn’t like when something was caught because then he killed it and hauled it back to the cave where Peter and Lucas skinned it. It wasn’t that the concept was foreign, she just hated the fear in the animals’ eyes as they approached. She despised the sound as Alexander carefully and quickly used his knife to kill the creatures. But she accompanied him all the same because she enjoyed walking with him through the woods.

She liked telling him stories about the trouble she and Gareth used to get into, and the ways Gareth would get back at Nathaniel for ratting them out. She loved hearing Alexander laugh. And sometimes he reciprocated with stories about being raised by Jasper, Meredith, and Peter, and growing up with Lucas.

She’d laughed so hard her sides hurt when he told her about the time when he was thirteen, and six-year-old Lucas dared him to try hanging upside down like a bat. He’d then shown her the tiny dent and almost invisible hairline crack on his left horn from falling.

They would usually all eat dinner together, although sometimes Raelyn prepared a basket of food, and she and Alexander would eat in the woods. The days grew warmer and longer, the mountains more alive. She saw more animals, and once even caught a glimpse of a white stag bounding away through the forest.

Afternoons Raelyn occasionally spent alone, reading one of Alexander’s books or wandering near the cave. No predators came close to the entrance. “Smells like dragon,” Alexander explained. Other times she would help prepare supper. She got better and was in the way less. Peter taught her how to repair the rope net traps. Lucas talked her ear off at every opportunity, but she liked him. He was rambunctious and sweet and reminded her of Gareth—if Gareth had the mouth of a persistent songbird.

Nights were harder. She missed her family most when she was alone with the dark and the crackle of the fire. Questions plagued her weary mind. Did they miss her as much as she missed them? Did Frederick and Nathaniel know yet? What had Henry and Tristan said when her parents arrived days late without her? Was Gareth still determined to find her?

Nearly a month after Raelyn was first separated from her family, Meredith, Peter, Jasper, and Lucas journeyed down the mountain to trade in the village. Alexander asked her not to go. He said she could, but he hoped she would stay. He looked so lonely, she agreed to stay this time. She still didn’t know how long she would have to live in the mountains—she didn’t like thinking about it—but it would be long enough there would be other opportunities to visit the village.

Raelyn and Alexander saw the others off as the first light of dawn shone on the peak. Peter and Lucas cleared several paces' worth of branches and a few large stones away to reveal a path. Raelyn’s jaw dropped.

“That was there the whole time?”

Alexander shrugged. “Well, yes. We hide the trail to reduce the chance of someone stumbling upon the cave.”

Raelyn had been so close to the trail when she ran, bitterness threatened to creep in. But if she had found it then, Alexander might be hiding from hunters now, and she would be married to a murderer’s son. She had made the choice to stay, and she knew it was the right one.

Meredith kissed Alexander’s cheek, and he didn’t look the slightest bit surprised or embarrassed. “Behave,” she said. “There’s a basket of vegetables ready to be sautéed and some dried venison in a basket in the kitchen for dinner for you both.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “Be safe.”

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