Page 93 of The Threadbare Queen

They were getting close to the Grimwalt border.

Ava could see it in the suppressed excitement that bubbled up as the caravan turned at a fork in the road, taking the better maintained track for once.

“We’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon,” Reckhart called to Sirna, and from her position next to him on the driver’s bench, Ava noticed Sirna’s mouth harden into a grim line.

He was worried.

She had let yesterday’s pretence of a collapse continue, lying listlessly beside the fire through the evening, eating nothing. It was already mid afternoon and she had continued the charade, keeping her eyes unfocused and her movements jerky.

Last night, Sirna hadn’t wound the rope around her, and she had seen panic in his eyes this morning when he’d had to wake her, give her a piece of bread to eat by the fire, and then lift her onto to the cart.

Evelyn had circled around them, not engaging but not ignoring what was happening, either.

She seemed both resentful of Ava’s state, and angry with Sirna, and Ava hadn’t heard a civil word between the two since she woke.

Her sharp decline had spurred the rest of the caravan into some sort of action.

Madame Croter kept offering Sirna advice, Gregor was openly rude to both Sirna and Evelyn, and although Vanin Gruger was his usual, silent self, he shared some of his food with Ava at lunch, reaching across Sirna to hand the fruit and nuts to her in a deliberate snub.

The only person who seemed determined to ignore the problem in front of them was Reckhart. And even he kept shooting nervous glances at his friend.

Ava let her head loll forward as she sat on the driver’s bench. The afternoon sun warmed her, countering the chill breeze, but the long run of clear skies seemed about to end.

So were the choices available to her.

She had balanced regaining her strength against proximity to the border.

Now the gap had almost closed.

The closer she was to Grimwalt, the more people would be available to hunt for her when she ran.

But she might find help there, too.

And every hour that passed where she didn’t have to run, to survive on her own, was another hour to build her strength.

She began to braid her hair. It was clean enough, she’d managed to wash in a stream yesterday, and she’d been thinking since she’d braided Melodie’s hair that weaving workings into her hair was a good idea.

It couldn’t be stripped from her. It was not an obvious place for a working to be. No need for thread of any kind.

She focused on strength and health for the right side, pausing often as her fingers ached after a while. Once the right side was done, she rested a little, then lifted arms that felt leaden to the left side, and worked in protection. From knives, especially, but also fists, and arrows. Reckhart was good with his bow and arrow, and she didn’t know which side he would land on if a confrontation erupted.

She would have to make her first move tonight.

Find the Focus, or come up with another plan.

Dark clouds rose up ahead, purple and gray in the distance, and Ava wondered what Evelyn would do with her when it began to rain.

She still clung to her deep-seated objection to Ava being in the cart.

That suited Ava. She couldn’t escape if she was inside the cart with Sirna and Evelyn.

It would be hard to sneak out under Sirna’s nose. He watched her carefully, even though she slept in a nest of hay and blankets near the fire each night and he was in the cart with Evelyn.

She had woken a number of times with him looming over her, staring down at her with the same mix of accusation, fear and rage on his face, as if her weakness, even her existence, was a deliberate act of defiance.

It worried her each time she caught him that she hadn’t sensed him. That she was still so weak and tired that he could be right beside her without her knowing.

She was improving, though. When she’d woken this morning, stiff with cold and feeling every muscle, she’d missed working with her needle and thread for the first time since the rope had been tightened around her waist.

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