Page 90 of The Turncoat King
After another careful look around, Ava began to walk back to the Rising Wave.
Was the growing feeling of danger from the protective workings hidden in her cuffs and collar, or was it more visceral, like Catja and Sufro were experiencing?
In the past, when she had worn her old cloak, she had sensed this often, but it had felt like it came from a distance, someone watching her through the tents but who was too far away to harm her physically. She had only had a closer brush with whoever it was who stalked her a few times, and they had moved away quickly each time.
Except for when they hunted her at night.
She had been roused from sleep many times over the weeks she’d traveled with the Venyatux, but they always moved away quickly and she had never wanted to chance poking her head out and revealing herself to see who they were.
Now, the feeling of imminent danger grew with every step, the embroidery touching the skin of her wrists and neck suddenly hot and chafing.
She gave in to the warnings suddenly, instinct causing her to crouch down and turn, just as a stick passed over her head with a whistle.
She let out a warning call, because this was an enemy in their midsts. The ululation seemed to bounce around her. Carila had taught her it was the carrying cry used in the high mountains to warn of Skäddar raids and mountain lion attacks.
“That won’t help you.” The stick was swung again, but Ava was already back on her feet, dancing out of the way.
“The Speaker’s messenger,” she said. She had thought it must be him who followed her through Grimwalt, but she hadn’t caught sight of his face once in all the weeks she’d been with the Venyatu. She couldn’t see his face now either in the darkness, but it was his voice.
She remembered it well as he’d tried to drag her from her grandmother’s hall.
“You should have just come when you were told.” He grunted with effort as he swung the stick again.
She wondered why he was using a stick when he had a sword hanging from his belt. But he was herding her with his attacks, she realized. Trying to maneuver her somewhere that suited him better.
“Your orders are to bring me back alive.” She spun, trying to edge back toward the original spot where he’d attacked her. Trying to keep from going in the direction he wanted her to go. “Why did you shoot at me, then? Your arrows nearly got me twice.”
“I was aiming for your shoulder.” He struck out in frustration when she forced him full circle, back to where they started. She could see his face at last, and held back a gasp when it didn’t match his voice at all. This was not the man she remembered.
She drew in a deep breath and ululated again, wondering why no one had come out to help her, or at least see what was going on.
“They can’t hear you.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“What the fuck are you doing, Vane? You’re supposed to be sending her my way.” The voice came out of the darkness behind her attacker.
She remembered this voice, too. The second abductor who had appeared out of nowhere to help drag her away. He loomed out of the darkness, and to her relief, his face was as she remembered it.
“You try getting her to go the direction you want, then.” Vane turned and hissed the words over his shoulder.
The moment his attention was off her, Ava jumped off the path into a small patch of ground surrounded by tents. There was a faint pop in her ears and she drew in a deep breath, and gave the warning cry again.
She could hear people stirring immediately.
Vane appeared suddenly beside her, and she realized he was shouting, although she couldn’t hear a single sound.
She hoped her own silence working in Luc and the general’s tents was as good as this and she wondered how they had done it.
Lights began to flare as people scrambled out into the night, and she ululated again as she finally had a chance to pull her knife from her boot sheath.
Vane’s arm was raised to strike her again, and there was nowhere for her to go but toward him, but his companion must have called to him because he looked over his shoulder. The blooming lanterns all around them illuminated the two men fully for the first time.
The second abductor was winding up what looked like a length of black rope and suddenly she could hear them shouting to each other.
She tilted her head. The rope was spelled.
She wondered if she could do that.
The idea appealed to her greatly.
