The Wizard's Heir (12 page)

“And what?” she said tightly.

“You and I have a little fun.”

She stepped in closer, rage flooded her body. “I would rather hang from the gallows than have ‘fun’ with you, you sick, disgusting—”

He slapped her so hard it pushed her to the side, slamming her check into the rough brick wall. He grabbed the back of her dress and yanked. It ripped like paper. She jabbed her elbow towards his nose, feeling the crunch of bone and cartilage. Blood splattered over her and ran down his face.

The cold night air rushed over her exposed chest. She stumbled forward, automatically covering herself. Her dress was shredded and hanging nearly to the waist on one side.

Terric charged, letting loose a steam of profanities muddled by the blood running into his mouth.

Auriella ducked and swung to the side, raising the dagger as she did. The blade bit across Terric’s cheek as he rushed past her. The dagger opened a gash from temple to lip, barely missing his eye.

New blood poured across Terric’s cheek and dripped down his neck. He was nearly unrecognizable.

Terric’s fingers went to his face, probing the wound.

What had she done? Rowan would not forgive this. She turned and ran, heading for the stables.

Tybolt stared at Aja’s cart from a distance. It was still on display and the villagers gathered around it, taking turns spitting and cursing at him. Terric had vanished, which was strange. He was supposed to stay with the cart.

Aja ignored everything and everyone. He stood at the bars and stared at Tybolt.

Refusing to look away, Tybolt clenched his fists at his side. He was a Hunter, and no wizard would intimidate him, especially one responsible for the death of his family.

Then Aja gave a little twitch of a smile. Maybe it was the shape of the mouth or the way the eyes laughed along with it, but Tybolt jolted. He knew that smile.

“Hess?” he whispered.

Tilly plopped down next to Tybolt and threw her hair over her shoulder.  “I think he likes you,” she mocked, nodding towards Aja.

“I think he likes looking at the misery he’s created.”

She folded her hands demurely in her lap and batted her eyes, which was the exact opposite of her normal demeanor. “Where’s Auriella?”

Her tone was sickly sweet, and Tybolt’s skin crawled. He wanted to shout every obscene thing he could think of at her. “Why are you so concerned with—”

He was cut off as a horse clattered through the square, Auriella on its back. People shouted and dove out of the way. The horse’s flank caught the edge of a cart and upended it.

“Where….” He trailed off.  Auriella’s dress was torn and spattered with blood. She was heading for the gate. “Spawn of Aja!” Tybolt took off at a dead run towards the stables.

Auriella was barely aware of the villagers as they yelled and dove out of her way. A subtle exit would’ve been a better plan, but any shred of logical thinking was buried beneath an avalanche of memories and a desire not to die.

Ahead of her the gate loomed. Matthew stood beside it.

“Open the gate!” she yelled.

Matthew made no move to open it. She yanked Fire Dancer to a halt and leapt off, using one hand to keep the remains of her dress up.

“Lady Auriella.” Matthew’s tone was not one of shock but a whisper of wonder. His gaze roamed up and down what was left of her clothes.

It would be so easy to take her anger out on this fool, but if she did she would likely kill him. “Matthew!”

“The king has ordered the gates not be opened after dark, for anyone.”

Auriella grabbed him by his skinny throat and shoved him against the wall. “I don’t care what the king said. If you don’t open this gate, I will snap your neck and take the keys off your dead body.”

“My lady,” Matthew croaked. “Please, the king will have my head.”

“It’s either him or me—with the bruises I’m leaving around your neck, I’m sure you can convince the king you were coerced.” She squeezed tighter. “I can guarantee your death right now, or you can take your chances with King Rowan.”

“All right. All right!”

Auriella released him and he fell forward, gasping and rubbing his neck. Auriella mounted Fire Dancer as Matthew unlocked the doors and swung them open.

“Tell anyone where I went and I will come back and finish what I started.”

Matthew gulped and touched his neck.

She spurred her horse forward and pounded towards the forest.

Tybolt bolted out of the stables on Widow Maker. He steered his horse through the streets, shouting for people to move out of the way. As he neared the city gates, Matthew was locking them.

“Hold that gate!” he shouted.

Matthew hesitated, but then he swung the door open.

Tybolt pulled Widow Maker to a stop. “Where did she go?”

Matthew paled.

“Where did she go?”

“I, I…she’ll kill me if I say anything.”

Tybolt growled and snapped the reigns. Auriella could’ve headed towards the forest or towards the coast. If she didn’t want to be found, the forest would be the obvious choice.

Widow Maker’s hoofs pounded across the rocky land between them and the trees. Tybolt saw a flash of white disappear between two large pines. Fire Dancer. Tybolt urged his horse faster, but Widow Maker struggled to increase his speed up the steep ascent. When the ground finally leveled out, Widow Maker’s stride lengthened and they hurtled into the forest.

Auriella reigned in Fire Dancer. The horse’s sides heaved, and foam lathered around the bit. She leaned down and patted Dancer’s neck. “Good girl,” she murmured.

Auriella sat up and tried to slow her own breathing. They were deep in the thieves’ forest now, farther than most Hunters liked to venture. A branch caught at the fabric on her skirt, tearing open the side.

Not like it mattered anymore.

She shouldn’t have run. Any trespasses she’d committed against Terric would surely be forgiven…considering she was clearly first in line to be Queen. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was Rowan’s appetite once he had his sights on the woman he wanted.

She hadn’t been thinking clearly. But she hadn’t been thinking clearly since the moment Sarah had walked through her door with this obscene dress draped over her arms. And now she’d left the city during Festival. That was sure to enrage the king, although to what outcome she didn’t know. She thought of returning and begging forgiveness, but she couldn’t make herself turn the horse around.

Auriella didn’t want forgiveness. She wanted to be free.

The trees opened up to reveal a small mountain lake with a distorted silver crescent dancing in the center. On the south side of the lake sat a cabin with thin trails of white smoke seeping from the chimney. She pulled Fire Dancer to a stop and stared.

What was she doing? Even now, this close to him, she knew she couldn’t have what she wanted. The danger was too great.

Auriella dismounted and sank to the ground in a pile of torn silk.

Tybolt walked his horse in circles, looking for something, anything, that might point him in the right direction. He was practically right on top of the piece of green silk before he saw it fluttering on the branch. He plucked it off and frowned.

He peered through the trees as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers. There was a broken branch a little further in—someone had indeed passed through here. He turned Widow Maker and headed straight into the thieves’ forest.

This section of the forest was a dangerous place, even for a Hunter. Several Hunters had never returned from venturing in. Others barely made it out with their lives. Ambushes were common and the thieves took no mercy. They were also precariously close to Desolate Drop, and the trees were so tightly packed you wouldn’t see it until it was too late.

Tybolt normally loved the beauty of the forest, but here the trees lost their rugged appeal and screamed of the danger that could be hiding behind them. Enhancing the precarious situation was a thick layer of pine needles that covered the ground, perfect for softening the foot falls of an approaching enemy—he could be surrounded and never know it.

Hunter skills were worthless when an arrow went through your neck.

Tybolt’s nerves twitched and sizzled beneath his skin. He listened for any sound that seemed out of place and kept one hand on the hilt of his sword. Time crawled by as Widow Maker plodded forward into a section of the woods he wasn’t familiar with.

The trees suddenly gave way to a clearing and a mountain lake. Tybolt gently pulled Widow Maker to a stop.

Auriella sat on the ground not far from him, her arms wrapped around her legs and her horse grazing nearby. The back of her dress had been torn almost completely open, and the moonlight gleamed off her bare skin.

Tybolt pulled his cloak off the saddle and dismounted. He stepped loudly enough to make sure he didn’t frighten her and knelt down, gently wrapping the cloak around her.

Auriella grabbed the fabric and pulled it tight around her neck. “How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy, but you left a piece of your dress on a tree.” He sat down and looked out at the small cabin across the lake. “Where are we?”