13
HARLOW
he shadow of the North Hold guard towers loom over me as I study theT elaborate reinforced locking system on the gates. It’s a marvel of engineering, but I haven’t the faintest idea how it works because I’ve never been this close to the gates when they open.
A few yards away, several large geldings stir restlessly as Henry quietly converses with his parents. They brought a remarkably small contingent of guards to the city. I’d expect more security for the leaders of their household.
I’m not certain of the scope of a blessing from Asher, the Divine of Endings.
Maybe they don’t need a horde of guards. That thought sends a chill up my spine.
I wonder absently how the defenses of Mountain Haven are holding up with them here. How do they keep their wall secure without holy fire? In Lunameade, it’s such a rare magic, gifted by Vardek, the Divine of Protection. My father and Able are the only ones who can wield such magic.
But I suppose it’s possible that there is someone similarly blessed hidden somewhere in Mountain Haven.
I try to ignore the fact that somewhere inside the tall walls of the manor behind us, Aidia is probably watching from some high window, taking shallow breaths so as not to hurt her bruised ribs.
I turn and wave, but I know if I lay eyes on her right now, with her staying in her cage and me flying free, I will lose my nerve.
I take three deep breaths in and out to settle the twisting, raw feeling of
leaving her. It feels like failing, like surrendering to my parents once again. I can’t shake the sense that I’m letting down the women of the city who count on the Poison Vixen. How can I escape when so many others are trapped?
But if I don’t go, I can’t return with the answers. And if I can’t assess this threat for my parents, I can’t get access to the tunnel.
Fear settles in my bones. When the task was distant, it felt entirely doable, but for the first time, it hits me that I might never return. In trying to find the leverage to save my sister, I might doom her to be trapped here alone forever.
Aidia has always felt stitched to me. I always assumed it would be a sharp rending that separated us, but this is more like a slow, brutal tear. I feel the distance grow by the second, and I haven’t even passed through the gates to the outside world.
The morning is cold, a sharp wind whipping over the wall. I focus on its breath-stealing chill to steady myself.
Henry approaches slowly, perhaps sensing my nervousness, or just waiting for me to turn into a wilting mess. He’s wearing a heavy fur-lined coat and well-worn riding boots, his hair neatly combed back. Much to my annoyance, he looks handsome, like some mythic dark god who drags maidens into the forest.
Though I’ve never been one for devotion, I tilt my chin up, praying to the Divine that everything I’m feeling isn’t written all over my face.
Henry’s gaze lingers behind me. “No parents?”
“We said our farewells last night.”
There’s a hint of disapproval in his frown.
“Careful, Henry. Pity is one step removed from tolerance,” I taunt.
His lips twitch. “Tolerating my wife. Sounds terrible.” Footsteps crunch behind me, and Henry purses his lips. “Seems you’re not forgotten after all.
Your brother’s here to see you off.”
I turn in time to see Kellan smile tightly and nod at Henry in the way men do to casually dismiss each other. Henry takes the hint and walks back to his horse by the gate.
Kellan guides me off to the side. “Have everything you need?” he asks.
He means my dagger.
I pat my thigh. “Never leave home without it.”
“Right.” Kellan’s voice is soft. His gaze drifts up to the North Hold mansion, and I know he’s thinking of Aidia, locked away in there like some
sort of rare bird. He’s thinking of losing another sister to a brutal man.
“Be careful,” he whispers.
“I’ll be back in a few weeks, Kel. Hug Libby and the kids for me.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Kate is beside herself that she won’t get to be in Aunt Harlow’s wedding. But I told her that you would tell her about it in detail when you return. Considering their customs, I’ll ask you not to.”
I bite back a laugh, so relieved he has the wherewithal to joke when I feel like crying.
Kellan pulls me into a tight hug. “Low, listen,” he whispers. “Our father didn’t want to tell you this because he thought you would back out, but I can’t let you go out there without all of the information.”
“What information?” I whisper, trying to keep my expression neutral.
Henry is watching from about twenty yards away. He fumbles with a saddlebag, but he doesn’t bother to hide that he’s paying close attention.
Kellan leans closer. “There is a chance that they think our father was
responsible.”
“For what?”
“For the Drained attack that nearly annihilated them ten years ago.”
I jerk away from Kellan. “What do you mean? We don’t command the Drained.”
Kellan shakes his head, his eyes darting to Henry and back to me. “Focus, Harlow. I just needed you to know that this is dangerous. I don’t know why they’ve shown up after all this time, after all our searching. But I can’t rule out the possibility that they have a score to settle and that they want to use you to do it.”
“Why didn’t you say so before? Why wait until now?” I turn my back to Henry and run a hand over my face to try to master my frustration. I’m so tired of secrets and compartmentalized family knowledge. I am about to walk into a den of vipers and my parents couldn’t bother to tell me.
“It wasn’t something you needed to know until now,” Kellan says. This is how he operates, in secrets—in only sharing what someone needs to know in the moment and hoarding the rest to himself. It’s how he’s kept the city in line all these years.
“How could they blame us for what the Drained do?” I ask after a long pause.
Kellan rubs the back of his neck. “Because our father had a choice to make and a responsibility to our people.”
I frown. “Are you saying that there’s merit to their suspicion?”
Kellan looks to where Henry is fastening the saddlebag to his gelding.
“Mountain Haven was full of our people, too,” I say.
“I know that!” he whispers. “But if that horde came to our gates, they could have torn through the city, getting stronger and stronger as they went.
Sometimes you have to sacrifice the few to save the many.”
I am trying so hard to stay calm, but I can barely keep my voice to a whisper. “There were thousands of people at Mountain Haven.”
“There are tens of thousands more here,” he says.
I stare at him. “Surely you’re not okay with that. You knew many of
those people.”
He nods to Henry. “Not him, though.”
He’s right, but the way he talks about it like it’s a math equation and not human lives lost irks me.
“So, just to be clear. Ten years ago, our father somehow directed a horde of Drained away from our gates and toward Mountain Haven. For ten years, we believed that horde annihilated them, only to be surprised when they suddenly reemerged seeking a wife for their heir. And now you’re sending me, your sister, who has already married once to protect this family, with a stranger who thinks I killed his sister, in the hopes I can find out what exactly they want?” My tone is calm, my face placid, but inside my heart is frenzied, slamming against my ribs.
Kellan frowns, his lilac eyes cast down. “Yes. That about sums it up.”
“What if they kill me the moment I arrive? What if they drop me in the forest and let the Drained have me as revenge?” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him what exactly I’m heading into—a marriage to an unkillable husband—but something stops me. Some nagging voice in the back of my mind urges me to hold on to my secrets, not out of some misplaced loyalty to Henry so much as a desire to keep hold of valuable information as a form of currency. Kellan has proven once again how often my family does this to me.
I should learn the lesson they keep teaching me.
The weight of our history is mine alone to bear. My father has slighted the Havenwoods, and it cost them an heir. Perhaps my parents don’t know that the Havenwood heir died. Maybe they assume that Henry always was the heir, or they suspect that the Havenwoods have other children.
Even so, my parents are comfortable sending me into hostile territory, knowing that the Havenwoods might be using me to get their revenge.
I meet my brother’s worried gaze. Kellan is so rational and steady. If he says there’s reason to be concerned, he must have evidence to believe that’s the case, but there’s nothing I can do now but be careful.
He nods at Gaven. “I’ve informed Gaven, but two of you are no match for an entire fort of them. If things get bad, I’ve shared everything I know about the fort with Gaven. He’ll share it with you when he has a chance, but you should also try to find out more from Henry. Be smart and do what you must to survive.”
Kellan kisses my cheek and pulls away. He takes one last look at me before turning away and striding back toward North Hold.
I watch him go as Gaven steps up beside me. “I’ve guarded you since you were an infant, Harlow, and I haven’t let anyone touch a hair on your head.”
I glare at him. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
He looks away. “I have not let anyone else touch a hair on your head, and I don’t intend to start now, but you have to be wise and hold that sharp tongue of yours. We will be surrounded by enemies, and if you want to do what you set out to do, you must be patient.”
I wave a hand, more because I’m annoyed than because I sense Henry’s approach by his looming aura.
He offers his arm to guide me to a horse, and I take it.
“Does he have a blessing?” Henry asks, glancing at Gaven.
My bodyguard has already mounted his horse and is sitting tall, waiting to depart.
“That’s an awfully personal question,” I say.
“It’s a necessary one, I’m afraid. I’m bringing him into my home,” Henry
says.
I frown. “No, he doesn’t.”
Henry’s lips twitch. “It’s a comfort to know you’re such a terrible liar, lovely.”
I can’t tell if he knows I’m lying for real or if he’s bluffing to get me to confess.
I open my mouth to argue until I realize he’s led me to his enormous gelding.
Henry looks me over with a scowl on his face. “You aren’t dressed warmly enough.”
“These are the warmest clothes I have.” My riding pants are shearling- lined, and aside from the layered undershirt and two sweaters, my cloak is
made of heavy plum-colored wool and lined with fur. I could barely make it out of the house before I was sweating. “If I add any more layers, I won’t be able to ride.”
He laughs as if I’m joking and pats the midnight-black horse. “You’re not riding.”
I cross my arms. “Then how do you suppose I’ll get there?”
He shakes his head. “I meant you’re not riding alone. You’ll be riding with me. You’re not a strong enough rider to be on your own. Not when you’ve never left the city walls.”
I stare at him with as much contempt as I can manage.
“The terrain is dangerous and unpredictable, Harlow. I’m sure you’re an excellent rider, but riding for sport inside the safety of these walls is different than riding for your life from a horde of Drained. I have a responsibility to keep you safe.”
I’m mad at myself for leaving. I’m furious at myself for staying this long.
Most of all, I’m angry at myself for being so afraid to run away when I’ve spent my life wishing for the chance. I want to fight. I want to hurt someone.
I want to turn my pain into someone else’s.
“Trust me, lovely,” Henry says, his tone unforgivably placating. “I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s the only way to do this safely. More than just your well-being depends on it.”
I glance toward the gates, and Henry takes a step closer. His hand comes to my hip, his mouth hovering next to my ear. “I know you look out there and see freedom. You think that it’s daylight and nothing can get to you—but a mile into the forest, the canopy is thick and we will have to ride very hard.
You may not want to hear it, but I won’t put your ego over your safety.”
I blow out a resigned breath.
He slaps a hand on my ass. “Now get on the fucking horse, like a good little wife.”
I want to slap him back, but his antics have caught everyone’s attention, and Kellan’s warning is fresh in my mind.
Bryce winks at me from atop his mount. Carter is grinning beside him on a giant black gelding.
Henry boosts me onto his gelding and climbs up behind me.
The leather creaks below me as I try to shift away from him, but he wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me back against his body.
“It’ll be an easier ride if you just relax,” he says, his breath ghosting over
my ear. “Besides, the last time you were pressed against me, you seemed to
like it just fine.”
“Asshole,” I grumble.
He chuckles as he raises a hand to signal the gatekeeper.
The gears grind and the large metal gate swings outward. The second they’re open, Carter and Bryce lead the group into the wild.
For most of my life, I have seen the Drained Wood through windows, in misty glimpses from the top of the wall, or through the slats of the gates that lead to the outside world. Now I’m going to venture into it.
The moment I cross over the threshold into the rest of the world feels like the first moment I’ve ever drawn a full breath. The scent of moss and damp, leafy pulp mixed with fresh pines mingles into a welcoming aroma.
I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I draw in gasping breaths. My chest has unclenched for what feels like the first time in my life, and my eyes burn with tears.
I was not expecting such a visceral reaction. I squeeze my eyes closed, praying to the Divine that Henry won’t notice.
“Take it easy, lovely. You’ll be back soon,” he murmurs, his voice low so that no one else will hear.
I try to master myself, but the dam has burst and humiliating tears stream down my face. I draw in another deep breath, and it’s as if the air is moving everything that’s been trapped in my body out all at once.
“I’m not upset,” I manage.
“Could have fooled me,” he says, slowing our horse and handing me a
handkerchief.
“I’m not upset about leaving,” I say.
I don’t know how to express what I am. It feels something like relief.
Like I’m finally out of my family’s control, even if I’m still doing their bidding.
“We can go faster now. I’m fine,” I whisper, conscious of the people riding with us and the Drained that could be lurking somewhere within the hollows of the forest.
I have no intention of telling Henry how trapped I’ve felt or that this mission is the most freedom I’ve ever been granted. I’ve lived a lifetime under the weight of my family’s expectations—and the fear of not meeting them—and for the first time, they won’t have an easy way to keep tabs on me for weeks.
“We’ll go a little faster now and then slow down once we’re farther from the gates,” Henry says softly. “I’m sorry you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset. I think I’m relieved.” The admission slips out.
Henry’s body tenses behind me for a moment, the horse slowing a bit more as if sensing his surprise, but then he relaxes and we speed up again.
I wish we could go slower. The trees whip by and I can’t drink it all in fast enough. There aren’t flowers with it being so close to winter, but I bet it’s gorgeous in the summer, green and lush and full of colors I’ve never seen.
“There tend to be more of them gathered by the city gates.” Henry’s voice is barely audible above the wind and the pounding of horse hooves. “We’ll slow down by mid-morning.”
When he said that the canopy is thick enough that the Drained lurk in the shadows, I’d assumed he only said it to inspire my cooperation, but the speed we’re traveling at and the wary glances of our traveling party suggest otherwise.
The morning is a blur of greens and browns and wispy white mist that is thickest at the low points of the forest. We only slow once to give the horses a quick rest by a stream just off the main trail, and we don’t linger long.
Henry is quiet, contemplative, not that I expect him to have anything to say to me. I know what I am to him because it’s the same thing he is to me— a burden I bear out of duty.
I’ve barely finished eating the light lunch before Henry is boosting me back on his horse and we’re off again. I knew it would be a long day since we need to reach the fort by dusk, but my hips ache from the long ride.
As we ride, I consider how they kept the rebuilt fort a secret for so long.
It’s possible they had a glamourist who could cast an illusion and hide it all this time, but that would be a very skilled practitioner wielding a very strong blessing.
I wonder if the few tradesmen who traveled to town in recent years skipped it or knew that it was still alive with activity and kept their secrets.
The more I learn, the less certain I am of who can be trusted, especially with how eager Henry was to learn about Rochelli.
Our group continues through the forest, Bryce and Carter leading the way with a contingent of four guards. Henry’s parents ride in front of us, and Gaven and three more guards follow behind us. Everyone else is engaged in quiet conversation, less tense than they were at the start of the journey.
“Feeling better?” Henry asks.
I bristle. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He leans down so his lips graze my ear as he speaks. “I’m talking about how you were crying earlier.”
I grind my teeth. “I have terrible allergies, but I’ve acclimated.”
He chuckles, and his arm tightens around my waist as if to taunt me.
Fine. Two can play at that game.
I subtly arch my back, pressing my ass into him.
“Harlow,” he hisses. His tone is low, warning.
“You say my name like I’m a thing you’re cursed with.”
He makes a sound between a laugh and a hum of agreement. “Divine deliver me—that I may survive such a curse.”
“If they’re merciful, you won’t,” I say.
We ride in silence for a few moments, until the question that’s been
crammed in my mouth finally slips out.
“Is it safe for me at Mountain Haven?”
His hand flattens against my stomach. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I’m trying to ask what it’s like.”
“Well, it’s not wild like you think,” Henry says. “We follow meticulous rules because that’s the only way to survive. Now, I know this will grate against your very nature, lovely, but there’s an expectation that as my wife, you’ll listen to me.”
I straighten in my seat, and he chuckles.
“Yes, I thought that might be your response, but you’ll find that strength is prized above all else there, which means that in order to stay in charge, I must appear strong and my wife needs to appear both strong and obedient.”
He leans closer. “And before you take a swing at me, note that I said appear obedient. What you do in the privacy of our rooms is your business, but the easiest way to get killed at Mountain Haven is to belong to no one—and I don’t mean in a possessive way, though that’s part of it. I mean if they think you’re on your own, they will pick you off. While I have the support from most thanks to my exhaustive work securing our home, you know well that when you’re the ones risking everything and doing all the work, there are always people who think they can do a better job.”
That is something I am acutely aware of. I have no love for my father, but I have seen how hard he works to keep our people safe and the way they all think they could do better.
“What happened?” I ask. “During the attack ten years ago? How did the Drained get to you? Growing up, I always thought Mountain Haven was impenetrable—I heard the stories —”
“Stone walls in front and mountain face behind?” Henry asks, his voice bitter. “Everything breaks eventually.”
I wait for him to say more, but he’s gone quiet and contemplative. I settle into the steady rhythm of the ride and the feeling of him behind me—solid, strong, protective. The arm he has wrapped around my waist occasionally tightens to draw me closer. I can’t tell if it’s out of discomfort or fear that I might fall.
At this point, he must feel my ease with the horse. My only tension comes from him behind me, breathing against the nape of my neck, crowding my space with his firm chest.
He sniffs the air just as Carter throws a fist up at the front of the group.
Everyone slows nearly to a stop.
Carter holds up two fingers and everyone soundlessly falls into pairs along the narrow trail. The path grows darker, the dying shrubs and ferns pressing closer.
We ride down the incline, and the temperature plunges. The hair on the back of my neck rises, like I stepped through a ghost.
“What is this pl —”
Henry’s hand clamps over my mouth. The group has almost stopped, everyone holding their breath. A faint red tinge colors the air. I squint in the dim light cutting through the thick, leafy canopy, trying to figure out if it’s something about the trees above us casting the light a strange color.
It almost looks like this place has a red aura.
Henry presses one finger to my lips in the signal to be quiet. I stare into the darkened forest to our right.
Henry sniffs the air, and his whole body goes rigid as a low hiss rises
from somewhere deep in the underbrush.
“Go!” he shouts.
Carter and Bryce lead the way, taking off at a full gallop, no longer concerned about making noise. The time for caution is gone. Now we’re riding for our lives from some invisible force in the forest.
My heart pounds. I pull off my gloves and shove them in my pocket. My hands itch for a weapon, but I’m too afraid to drop my dagger in my nervousness. Henry fumbles in his pocket and then shoves a glass vial into
my hand.
“Hold this.”
Henry yanks off his gloves and shoves them in his pockets. He unsheathes a vicious-looking sword and slows the horse. “Uncork it and pour it over the blade.”
I do as he says, with considerable difficulty at our pace, dribbling the liquid haphazardly over the blade. “What is it?”
“Well water,” he says, urging the horse on faster.
Our mount is steadier than I expected, but I place a hand on his neck
anyway.
“Hold on,” Henry says.
I’ve learned about our history and the magic of the Drained Wood since I was a child, but reading a story in a book or hearing it around a campfire doesn’t do justice to the horror of hearing the deafening rush of the current of blood mist.
In the pub tales I’ve heard, it’s a magical current that flows through the Drained Wood in a seemingly random pattern, always with a horde of Drained coming just behind it. In reality, the mist rushes in like a furious river, giving me no time to orient to the path ahead before the red haze blocks out everything.
The air smells like iron and salt. I lean back into Henry, fighting against the suffocating smell of blood.
“Just breathe. We just need to stay on the horse and keep riding. But fear attracts them and your heart is pounding. Just take a breath,” Henry says.
“How do you —”
He shifts, and I realize I’ve grabbed his hand. “I can feel your heart in your hand.”
A startled laugh bubbles out of me at the thought of ever offering my heart to a man so freely. The laugh is cut short when something barrels into me from the right.
Henry curls around me, taking the brunt of the impact as we crash to the forest floor. I roll off of him and press up to a seat.
He’s on his feet in a second, turning in a slow circle with his sword at the ready. I stand and reach for my dagger. The moment my fingers brush the cool metal hilt, sharp claws curl around my wrist, and I’m dragged toward my bloody death.
