Betrayed: Ruby's Story (Destined Book 4) Page 7

  Hopefully. Once again, the word went unspoken, and once again, I caught it all the same.

  We approached the hills, fear making my legs shaky, and paused at the base of another low ridge. “Stay to the east,” he said, pointing to a hill that rose to the right of the rest. “As far from the road as you can. Move quickly. Keep quiet. Don’t stop unless you have to. I’ll find you when we pass their territory.”

  I was liking this plan less and less. “How soon will that be?”

  He met my eyes before looking away. “Don’t know. A day. Maybe a couple days.”

  Terror made my skin clammy. I felt heat in my eyes. I kept quiet, rather than risk speaking and letting the tears fall in front of him.

  “There’s a blanket in your pack,” he said, his voice curt. “And I gave you some of my jerky. Ration it, so it’ll last you.” He met my gaze for a long, tense moment. His expression was troubled. “What do you get out of this, Ruby?”

  “Liberty,” I blurted out. I pressed my sleeve to the corners of my eyes.

  Lucien frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  He studied my face before turning back toward the hills. “You go first. I’ll follow so no one sees us enter the forest together.”

  Somehow, I found the strength to pry myself away from his warm, solid presence and trudge up the ridge toward the edge of the forest that spilled down from the hills.

  I was barely even hyperventilating.

  ~

  The forest was cool and shady, but the low slope I climbed had me sweating before long. I stopped beside a tall, needled tree and pulled off my pack and my jacket, shuddering as I realized I was very much in need of a bath.

  I plucked my sweaty, thin shirt away from my chest and fanned my face, trying not to breathe through my nose. My calves burned from the strain of climbing the hill, and I had a feeling I hadn’t even left its base yet. How many more hills would I have to climb before I reached the plains that held Lucien’s city?

  Don’t stop unless you have to. I could almost feel Lucien’s disapproving scowl. I glanced over my shoulder, but the slope held nothing but greenish-brown, needled trees, rocks, and the occasional dry scrub. No Lucien. No Badlanders. Not yet, anyway.

  My whole life in Asylia, I had looked for places to be alone. Now I was truly alone, and I couldn’t say I liked it all that much.

  I swallowed and stuffed my jacket into the top of my pack, then shoved my arms through the straps again and resumed the climb.

  Had refugees from the West really come to Theros after the plague destroyed their civilization? That might be an outlandish rumor. But just because I’d never heard it didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Asylia’s city gates had been shut for eleven, long years to keep the plague out. The gates had only been open for two years. We knew next to nothing about the Badlands. Anyone might be out here. Anyone or anything, Lucien had said. I shivered.

  My distant Western ancestor, six generations removed, had journeyed to Theros when Western explorers first discovered our lands. He’d been enthralled by our isolated, magical cities, or so my father had told me. Many in our family line, including Grandmother and my father, had hints of red in their hair and a few more freckles than the native Fenra descendants. But thanks to some cruel twist of fate, I was the only one whose Western coloring was so obvious. I’d never seen anyone who looked like me in Asylia. Now, peering through the trees as I worked my way up the hill, I wondered where they were.

  I’d been taught the plague had wiped out every Westerner. But who knew for sure? No Asylian would ever journey to the Western lands to find out if any Westerners had survived. We hadn’t the equipment or manpower to travel such a distance, especially not to cross the burning deserts, towering mountain passes, and, at last, the hungry ocean, known to swallow little boats whole if it pleased. We had plenty of mages, but not even a mage could conquer an ocean the way the huge Western trade ships could.

  The day grew hotter as I climbed. Just after midday, the sun broke through the clouds, and it beat down on my forehead between gaps in the tree cover. The forest had seemed so thick compared to the arid plains, but now that I was in it, I could see it was only slightly less parched than the rest of the Badlands.

  “Water thief.” I muttered the words under my breath, annoyed at Lucien for taking my canteen but frightened enough to keep quiet like he’d instructed. “Surely everyone out here has a canteen. Badlanders. Westerners.” Had mine really been too nice for me to keep?

  Desperately thirsty, I slogged forward. I swallowed, but my throat felt like gravel. I squinted up at the sun. It felt like hours had passed since I’d removed my jacket, but the sun had hardly moved across the sky at all. It was early afternoon, at the latest. I trudged ever higher, my breathing heavy from the exertion.

  Near the hill’s crest, I heard it—an odd rushing noise my noisy breaths must have obscured. I tensed but crept up to the top of the hill, trying to keep my footsteps quiet. I peered through the branches of a spindly tree as a cool breeze whispered across my cheeks. Light glinted off a narrow river between the base of this hill and the next. I nearly cried out with relief. Water.

  I stumbled down the hill toward the river, my legs weak and shaky. The setting sun hit me full on the face as I descended the barren slope, which seemed to hold fewer trees, but I was too happy to pay it any mind.

  The river was small compared to the wide, placid Theros River that coiled through southern Asylia, but it was farther away than I’d estimated from the top of the hill. By the time I reached its rocky bank in the narrow valley between the hills, twilight had fallen across the whole valley.

  I rushed to the bank, too thirsty to bother removing my pack. My boot slipped on a wet rock, but I caught myself and crouched low on the next one. My pack was probably throwing me off balance, and dehydration had made me dizzy. I pulled my pack off and dumped it on the rocks before continuing forward on the slippery shore. “Water, water, water.”

  Finally, I reached the river’s edge. I squatted, bent over, and splashed water into my mouth. The icy, cold taste was pure bliss. It ran down my chin and chest. Pure, beautiful, cool bliss. I splashed more into my mouth, face, and hair.

  This close, the rapidly moving river was deafening. The bluish haze of twilight obscured the trees on the other side of the bank, making me feel oddly vulnerable.

  When my thirst had been sated, I remembered my sweaty shirt. “Bath time.” It would be cold, and I didn’t dare fully immerse myself, but I could at least splash the sweatiest parts of my upper body. It would be well worth the discomfort. I didn’t think I’d ever been so smelly in my life.

  I shifted on the rock. This one was too slippery and awkward for a makeshift sponge bath. I’d need something bigger and more stable, or I might fall in. I rose carefully and searched out a better platform.

  Then, over the rushing water, I heard a man’s voice.

  I froze and held my breath, trying to listen. Had it been Lucien’s voice, calling out to me? But after his warnings to be quiet, why would he shout like that?

  There it was again. My stomach sank. Rumbling male voices. Not one man—more than one. Definitely not Lucien. Badlanders.

  Chapter 9

  My legs shook. I had to get away before they saw me. I moved, then slipped. My body slammed backward, and my head cracked hard on a rock.

  I lay on my back, stunned and cold, my head throbbing.

  “—wrong with you?” one deep voice growled loudly. “Another failed raid?”

  The river bubbled right next to my ears, but the Badlander’s voice was loud enough to carry. My back was soaking wet and quickly going numb with cold.

  “—didn’t know he’d be expecting—”

  The noisy river obscured most of their words, but I could catch fragments if I strained to hear.

  “—nothing but a bunch of worthless kids, but you still—”

  I started to sit up, ready to get out of the water poolin
g between the rocks where I’d fallen. Then I realized they were arguing about someone else. Had they not yet seen me?

  When I turned my head to the side, all I could see were rocks and water. Perhaps I was blocked from their sight just like they were from mine. They must not have noticed me because I’d fallen before they reached the bank.

  My back ached as it pressed against the rough stones. I shivered in my wet clothes, cold and terrified but grasping to a weak thread of hope. If they hadn’t seen me yet, perhaps they’d gather their water and leave without noticing me.

  “Hey, what’s that?”

  They had spotted my pack.

  “—looks like somebody’s—”

  “—on the other bank—”

  I squeezed my eyes shut in a foolish, childish impulse. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

  “—anyone there? We’re friendly, don’t worry—”

  There was a chorus of excited male laughter. “Guess they’re hiding—”

  Nausea rocked my stomach.

  “Don't be scared. You don't have to hide. We just want to say—”

  “—are you? There's no cover here.”

  Another round of laughter. “—in the rocks. Must be somebody small.”

  “You’re too small for that big old pack. Let us help—”

  There was a loud splash and a series of angry curses from one man. More laughter from the group.

  “—too deep here. Find a better place to cross—”

  Fear crouched on my chest like a hungry, shadowy creature, pressing me down so I couldn’t breathe. Any minute now, they’d get to an angle where they could see me, and I couldn’t bring myself to imagine what would happen then.

  “—you see that?” It was the leader’s voice again.

  My breath came in desperate gasps.

  “—smoke just down the valley. Got to be Sidon and his brothers. Idiots. Don’t they know we’re—”

  Smoke? More Badlanders?

  “I see it, too—”

  “—bet that kid thought they’d be safe from us further west—”

  “—you want to do, boss? Should we—”

  “—pack up. We take them now, get them back for last night.”

  I held my breath, straining to hear what the group was doing as their voices grew more distant. It was impossible to know if they had left, thanks to the bubbling water just beside me.

  The frigid river water sent another shiver down my spine. If I moved, would they still be there? But if I didn’t move, I would surely freeze to death! I couldn’t possibly stay in this ridiculous position all night.

  “Ruby!” The voice was a low, quiet growl.

  “Lucien?” My whisper was hoarse. “Where are you?”

  His hooded figure appeared above me. “Can you move?” He asked tersely.

  “Of course. I mean … I think I can.” I didn’t move. I just stared up at him with relief, wondering why I found the sight of his disapproving, bearded face and dirty hood so comforting. “What are you doing here? And … are you sure they’re gone?”

  He grimaced. “For now. They’ll see my fire wasn’t really a rival’s camp soon enough, and then chances are, they’ll circle back to the stream. We need to get out of here.”

  I fought the urge to cry. “Good. I’ll just …” I struggled into a sitting position.

  He darted a glance over his shoulder. “We need to go now, Ruby.”

  “I thought you said we couldn’t travel together.” I rubbed my head, cringing as my cold, wet shirt clung to my back.

  Lucien extended a hand, his expression dark. “I decided my future is at greater risk if you get captured.”

  I took his hand and let him pull me up. Shivering, I slid my arms into my pack straps as he lifted it for me.

  “What if they catch us?” My whisper felt dangerously loud as we hurried unsteadily over the rocks and toward the treeline.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  I followed him into the shadowy forest, casting one last glance over my shoulder at the river where the Badlanders had nearly caught me. The moonlight glinting off the rushing water looked threatening now, rather than refreshing.

  If Lucien hadn’t led them away, what would’ve become of me? And if he refused to help me in Draicia, like he’d warned, how would I ever survive this trip?

  ~

  We walked until the moon had traveled all the way across the sky, and the first whisper of dawn hovered at the horizon’s edge.

  When we finally stopped, it was at the mouth of a small cave set into the eastern side of a hill. Lucien shrugged out of his pack, and I followed suit. He hadn’t spoken to me since we’d left the stream, but now he glared at me, his body tense. “What were you thinking? I told you not to stop,” he hissed. “But you went to the most trafficked stream in the eastern part of the hills and stayed there for close to an hour!”

  I hugged my body and shivered. “I needed a bath,” I whispered tiredly.

  It was the wrong thing to say.

  “A bath?” Lucien’s cheeks darkened. “You’re supposed to look like a refugee, Ruby. Impoverished. Worthless.” His voice was a low, furious growl. “The last thing you need to do out here is to … to … beautify yourself like some Asylian Procus lady.”

  I reached up to smooth my hair without thinking, then dropped my hand, feeling foolish. “I’m sorry.”

  Lucien pressed his lips together before sinking to the ground at the cave’s entrance.

  “I have to change my thinking,” I whispered as I sat beside him. “I know that. And I will.”

  Lucien raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and looked away. “Won’t do any good.” The skeptical tone of his voice made me scowl.

  “I’m serious.” I held out my hand. “I need water. And victus. Please?”

  He grunted and dug both out of his pack. “You don’t need new thinking. You need strength. You need weapons.” He leaned back against his pack and huffed out a breath. “No, what you need is to go back to Asylia.”

  I shook my head and fingered the top of the victus canister. I was thirsty and hungry, as usual, but the terror at the stream made me oddly reluctant to satisfy my thirst. “It’s just that everything out here, in your world, is backward.”

  “My world?” His eyes flicked my way for a moment. “What do you mean, backward?”

  “It’s the opposite of what I’m used to. Safe places are dangerous, because others will be there, so I must seek out the dangerous places instead, so I’ll be safer. It’s backward, but I’ll learn. I mean … I am learning.”

  Lucien watched me for a moment. “Won’t be enough. Not in the city, that’s for sure.” He grabbed the canteen from my hand and took a long swig before handing it back.

  I managed to put the canteen to my mouth and take a sip, but the taste of the water turned my stomach. I rested it back in my lap. “Then teach me. Teach me about Draicia. We have several days left on our journey, do we not? Teach me to survive in your city.”

  Shadowed from the light of the stars and moon by the cave’s overhang, I could just make out Lucien’s deep frown. “I can’t do that.”

  I sighed. “Why not?” I forced myself to take another sip of water, shuddering as the cold gulp went down my throat.

  “False hope,” he grumbled. “You’ll never survive in Draicia, no matter what I teach you. Wouldn’t be right for me to let you think any different.”

  I held back a groan. I’d never had such a reticent source. And he’d requested me! “I won’t get my hopes up. Promise.” I placed a hand over my heart. “I, Ruby Contos, do hereby accept that I will most likely perish in Draicia, no matter what Lucien …” I paused. “What’s your last name?”

  He crossed his arms. “Patra.”

  “Thank you. No matter what Lucien Patra does to help me.” I offered him an encouraging smile, which he ignored. “There. Now you don’t have to worry.”

  His expression flickered for just a moment, and I couldn�
�t decide if he looked bemused or annoyed. “I have a feeling my worries are just getting started,” he said.

  I waited, ever optimistic, but no teaching points emerged from his frowning lips. “Can you tell me why you reached out to the Herald? And why now, rather than two years ago, when the gates opened? I know you said I’d have to get my information on my own, but perhaps there’s something you can share that won’t endanger your position in the Wolf clan.”

  I watched his face as he kept his gaze stubbornly on the forest directly in front of us.

  After several minutes of silence, my patience was rewarded. He bent his knees and rested his arms on them. “My father.” His voice was oddly hoarse. “He …” Lucien fell silent.

  I shivered and wrapped my arms around my body. Something told me to keep my mouth shut.

  He cleared his throat. “My father died last year. Our clan was at fault.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “They don’t see it that way, but it’s true. He died because of the clan. The night I buried him, I knew I couldn’t let it go.”

  I nodded slowly. “How did he die?”

  The Wolf shook his head without speaking.

  Ah. I’d have to find that out on my own. “Why now, rather than last year?”

  He regarded me with hooded eyes. “There are other concerns in play,” he said at last. “I’m highly ranked, but I’m not at the top. I can’t just bring the clan down the moment I decide to do so. It’s taken the past year to get all the pieces in place.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Am I the final piece?”

  His nod was barely perceptible.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I shifted, uncertain of how to respond to that. “Why the Herald? Why not the Asylian government, if you need guards, or something?” I wasn’t sure what the rest of his plan involved, but it seemed like armed men would come in handy.

  Lucien rubbed his beard, then he pulled his hood lower over his head. “I have my own men,” he said gruffly. “And no offense, but I don’t trust that prince.”

  I bit my lip. “He’s not as bad as everyone thinks he is.”