“And where to stick it,” Kato adds, miming a slow, low stab.
Carver finally cracks a smile. He turns and leers at me, but it’s not as authentic as usual. “Show me your sword, Cat, and I’ll show you mine.”
Griffin’s eyes glint dangerously, which goes a long way toward restoring Carver’s usual good humor.
“You need the practice, Cat. We should cross swords,” Carver says.
I ignore him.
“Work on our parries and thrusts.”
I ignore him some more.
“There’s really only one good way to jab.”
I mash my lips together to keep from smiling.
“But there are a lot of ways to perform without actually getting poked.”
I burst out laughing. “Good Gods! Are you trying to get yourself killed before we’re even five minutes out of the castle?”
Carver grins, his lean face lighting up. He seems to set his unusual moodiness aside for good. Griffin takes the whole thing surprisingly well, and I’m so happy to be away from the confines of the castle that I’ll gladly participate in a lewd conversation.
Actually, I’d do that anyway.
Open farmland greets us as we exit the city, ripe crops lending a sweetness to the air that mixes appealingly with the sharper aromas of sun-baked wild thyme and the huge, rambling rosemary bushes lining the road. Olive groves glint in the distance, silvery-green leaves fluttering on the warm breeze. A slender ribbon of water snakes through the squat, solid trunks like a sparkling thread, reflecting the midmorning sun that’s already done away with the earlier cloudiness.
I inhale deeply, breathing in the freedom of the road. I can’t quite come to terms with living behind stone walls again, with guards, and gates, and people who look to me to make decisions for them.
I wasn’t at all hungry at breakfast. My stomach actually cramped at the thought of food, but I’m ravenous now, so I pull an orange from my saddlebag and drop the reins to peel and eat it. Panotii will keep going in a straight line without my largely token involvement in the steering process.
We settle into a familiar rhythm as the day goes on. Kato and Flynn talk from time to time, Carver hums softly, and Griffin and I ride side by side, our mounts keeping stride with one another. We’re rarely more than a few feet apart, almost like we’re still attached by the magic rope Griffin used when he abducted me.
I glance at Griffin only to find him already watching me. Maybe we are still attached, but the rope has turned intangible, and the magic runs deeper now.
He doesn’t turn away. The intensity in his gray gaze makes my cheeks heat, and his low chuckle conveys pure masculine satisfaction that he can still make me blush with only a lingering look.
We reach Ios at sunset. After a quiet meal, Griffin and I take full advantage of having a bed and a closed door because who knows when we’ll have that kind of privacy again. From now on, we’ll be sticking to the woods and forgoing inns.
In the morning, we visit the healing center site where Eneas and Calla are. The two healers were recently promoted for keeping me alive—Eneas to the head of Ios’s new healing center, and Calla to his personal apprentice—although I’m not sure gaining a dusty construction site and a group of petulant healers is any great gift. Griffin instructs Eneas to hire Hoi Polloi medics if Ios’s healers still haven’t agreed to take their shifts by the time the building is in working condition.
I smile to myself, just imagining the fits of apoplexy when Magoi realize they’re being replaced by Hoi Polloi. Good Hoi Polloi medics have decent skills. Magoi healers can cure just about anything, but if they’re too pompous and prejudiced to treat nine-tenths of the people who need attention, they deserve a far worse fate than just getting bumped out of their traditional role.
Times are changing. I have a feeling they’ll come around. Eventually. And if they don’t, I’ll come back here and make them.
CHAPTER 8
SHIFTING IN HIS SADDLE, GRIFFIN DIPS HIS HEAD TOWARD mine. “Something is following us.”
My eyes widen, meeting his. At the sudden tension coursing through my body, Panotii’s ears twitch.
Griffin puts his hand on my shoulder to keep me from turning around. “Three wolf-like creatures. Enormous. They’ve been there on and off all day.”
“Their eyes glow,” Flynn adds softly. He’s on my left. Griffin is on my right. They box me in, squashing my legs.
“Am I the only one who didn’t know about this?” I ask from between gritted teeth.
Griffin doesn’t answer, which is answer enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He doesn’t look over at me again. His sharp eyes scan the forest ahead and to the sides. “I didn’t want to worry you before I was sure.”
I guess he’s sure now. Fabulous.
We’re deep in the vast, uninhabited woods of northern Tarva. Lichen and moss crawl over boulders and fallen logs, cushioning the forest in deep greens, russets, and orange. Long, ghostly tendrils of mist slide like exploring fingers around towering tree trunks and loop over gnarled branches, cooling and dampening the air. The dense canopy is so thick and thriving it shades everything and swallows all sound.
A moment ago, I was soaking up the freshness, glad for the shadows and feeling my magic spark. Now I shiver. I’m not cold, although the air is cooler here, this far to the north. It’s the sudden sense of foreboding that feels like ice melting down the back of my neck.
Griffin’s heavy hand is still on my shoulder. “What do you think they are?”