Page 8 of Poisoned Kingdom
When I finally reached a rolling meadow, I was a quivering mess of aching muscles, and the sun had fully risen above the horizon. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over me. I was alive. I had bounced back from danger like a cat with nine lives, but luck could only take me so far. Tears streamed silently from my eyes as I hugged myself, rushing under the cover of the trees.
I was going back to Truso—but as who? A failed healer? A remorseful dark sister who had turned her back on the Brotherhood? As a mage who couldn’t cast? Or perhaps as someone entirely new?
The wind whipped my skirt around my ankles, and I almost tripped. I caught myself on a low-hanging branch, steadying my breath along with my steps. Those questions would have to wait. I couldn’t afford injury, not now. I might not know which way to go, but I knew where I wanted to be.
Even if going home was the hardest thing of all.
It took me two days to reach the river. The trek proved to be more challenging than I’d expected. Tova, bless his heart, had thought of money but had overlooked simple necessities such as a cloak or food, and the nights were a harsh lesson in survival. My dress, ripped by the rough tumble, offered little warmth as I curled up between tree roots, hoping night predators would overlook my makeshift shelter.
On the third day, I could barely keep my eyes open as the sun rose over the horizon. Dirt clung to me like a second skin as I hid, shivering in the night’s cold. Worse, the weather, starvation, and an array of cuts and bruises had given me a fever. The world spun around me as I tried to stand from my improvised bed, the colours blurring in a delirious haze.
I burst into bitter laughter. ‘Healer, heal thyself,’ I muttered as I stumbled towards a willow and placed my forehead on the trunk. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, picking up a flat, sharp rock from the ground before hacking the rough bark away to get to the softer layer beneath. I chewed on the bitter strands, but the raw bark could only help so much.
This will have to do. I’ve bought myself a day . . . maybe less.
I pondered my dire situation as I waited for my fever to decrease. ‘It can’t be far now; somewhere, there’s a village withan inn and a big, hot bath. Oh gods, there’ll be a warm bed and food . . . I’ll bet they even have fish stew and apple pie.’
Sheer tenacity and a focus on the simple pleasures of life kept me walking along the riverbank for hours after that. My daydreams felt so real, I could smell the food cooking—not fish, surprisingly, but a rabbit stew, like hunters make from the animals they snare.
I licked my lips and followed the delicious scent, uncaring if it was real or my wishful thinking. Whether it was a woodcutter’s hut or a hunting lodge, I was ready to beg, borrow, or steal for a moment of respite and hot food on a plate.
‘You could never be a hero, Sana. Three days in a forest and you’d sell your soul to Veles for a mouthful of food.’
My chuckle turned into a nasty curse when a twig smacked me in the face. The undergrowth was so dense here that it felt like the forest wanted to stop me from advancing. I grasped the low-hanging branch and pushed through, hugging my face to the uneven bark as I struggled.
Just a little farther. Gods, I should have spent more time outside, I thought, feeling my heart pound in my chest after such simple exercise.
Once I pushed through, there was nothing but the rush of blood in my ears. When it subsided, laughter and masculine voices dragged my attention to the clearing ahead of me. I hesitated, my steps faltering, but I didn’t know how to live in the forest and asking for help was my only chance of finding some food. I licked my lips again, gathering my courage as I wiped the pine sap on my hands off on my dress.
I wished I could see through the undergrowth, but the tangled branches only revealed glimpses of a flickering fire. A root snapped under my foot, and I stilled, holding my breath before slowly continuing, careful not to make too much noise.
I approached what looked like a rough campsite, with an open fire and bedrolls becoming visible as I drew closer. I checked the position of my hairpin, ensuring it was within easy reach. Drawing a breath, I stepped into the clearing, only for the heat to assault me. Harsh, unfiltered sunlight pierced my eyes, bringing with it an instant sting of tears. I froze, squinting against the glare, waiting motionlessly until my vision adjusted to the unforgiving brightness. As the blur began to fade, a shape took form.
‘Fuck,’ I breathed, moving back. My luck had been bad lately, but this was beyond ridiculous. I’d followed the scent of a hot meal and landed myself squarely in trouble, like a cat fleeing the rain only to leap straight into a flooded gutter.
‘They haven’t seen me,’ I muttered, looking around, my gaze briefly landing on the trees growing at the top of a small hill. Something was there, and I instinctively took another step back.
Out of all the danger I could have encountered during my escape, I had to stumble upon a hunting party. Three men sprawled near the fire, roasting rabbits, and I recognised one of them from the Dark Brotherhood.
‘It’s been two days. How long will he make us wait?’ asked a tall, bearded man, probing the meat with a dagger.
‘As long as it takes. You heard Jagon. He was furious she escaped. Our illustrious master paid a pretty penny for the guards to avert their eyes, but when he came for her, she’d already gone. What a fucking mess. You should have seen him foaming from the mouth as he issued our orders. So, sit on your arse and be happy you’re here and not searching the deepest recesses of a dwarven mine instead,’ answered another, and I swallowed hard as I tried to retreat.
‘She’s his little chit, isn’t she? I swear the bastard was smiling when he returned from the dungeon,’ the third rogue said beforestanding. ‘I just don’t get it. He could have any dark sister—why does he want this one?’
Because he’s obsessed with me, you moron,I thought.
I was almost out of sight. A few more steps, and I could turn and run for safety, but the cold edge of a blade was suddenly pressed against my neck.
‘Leaving the party so soon, sweetheart? I’m afraid I can’t allow that. Jagon will have my balls if I don’t bring you in.’
Before I could overthink, I shifted to the side, ramming my elbow into the man’s stomach. Then, when he gasped and dropped the knife, I shot forward.
‘Get her! Nightshade’s here!’ he grunted, raising the alarm.
Fear bolstered my strength, and I shrugged off my exhaustion, ignoring the sorry state of my boots as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. My chest burned, and twigs smacked my face, but no matter where I went, my enemies drew closer. Maybe if I’d been rested, I might’ve stood a chance, but as I stumbled over another root, losing my footing, I felt hands grasping my arm and tackling me to the ground.
As we tumbled, I hammered my fist into a leering face, but neither the sickening crunch of his nose nor the blood gushing from it deterred him.
