“I know.” His voice was quiet. He dropped to his knees in front of her, took her hands in his. “Snow, I may be an Artificer, as you said, but you…you have so much elemental magic deep within you. Did you know?”
She shook her head, the threat of tears still behind her eyes. “I couldn’t save them all.”
“But youdidsave some of them.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “The village…”
He squeezed her hands. “We can’t go back.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Do you really want to see it burned to the ground?” he asked.
She considered this and finally shook her head. “But Elator and Yirrie…”
“We have to believe they are all right.” He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “We have to believe they got out.”
His tenderness nearly made her come undone. She tugged her hands away from him and pushed from the ground, getting to her feet. He rose, too. She clenched her fists, staring toward the Wyldwood Forest.
“This is Seraphina’s doing,” she said. Her voice cracked a little when she said it.
“I thought so, too. She’s trying to get to you, Snow. Don’t let her.”
He was right and she knew that. She whisked away the tears and took a deep breath, pushing back emotions that threatened to overtake her. She’d left behind the only real home she’d ever known. Left behind the two people who raised her these last ten years. When she left, she questioned if she made the right decision. She was certain she had now. Seraphina would destroy the forest no matter if she was in it or not.
“I’m not,” she said, sounding strong and sure. Blistering determination seared through her. “Let’s get my throne back.”
He grinned. “As my princess commands.”
Chapter 30
Roderickwasright.Lighthillwas a much different village than Westfall. There was not the bustle of activity she had expected. Instead, there were only a few people out and about. Most of the shops were closed and boarded up. There were only a few street merchants. One sold fruits and vegetables. Another bread and pastries.
While those in Westfall had jovial smiles and boisterous laughter, the people of Lighthill were much more subdued. It was shortly after midday as they made their way through to the only tavern and inn with a dilapidated sign swaying in the faint breeze on creaking hinges. She glanced up at it, barely making out the faded letters that readThe Painted Owl.
Roderick rode up to the inn and dismounted. “Wait here. I’ll see if they can stable the horse.”
“And if they can’t?” she asked.
He looked thoughtful a long moment and glanced back out to the road, as though calculating the distance to the next village. “We will have to move on.”
She hopped down from the saddle as he disappeared inside, uneasy with being left alone. Her hand landed on the hilt of the enchanted dagger. She glanced around the nearly deserted village, her heart breaking for these people who looked as though they had been worn down to the bone. Seraphina and her taxes must be taking a toll them.
“Yer a pretty thing.”
The man’s voice startled her. He approached, squinting at her in the waning afternoon sunlight. He had a scruff of beard on his cheeks and chin. His long hair was greasy and unkept. His clothes were worn, stained, and tattered.
“Where do ye hail from?” he asked.
Uncertainty flickered through her. How should she answer that question? If she told him she was from the castle, then he would resent her. Especially if he thought she was in league with the queen. If she told him she came from the Wyldwood Forest, he might think her mad.
“We traveled up from Westfall,” she finally said.
“Westfall.” He said it with contempt and then spat on the ground. “Nothing but troublemakers there.”
Confusion flickered through her. Roderick said those in Westfall tried to help the other villages with an underground movement. Perhaps this man didn’t realize that.
“Are ye here to steal from us, too?”
