The Catalyst

Chapter 11

"I don't really care about marks," Noah said. "And I did it for the gold."

Jaden shook his head. "You went through all that trouble. You pretended to be the healer's son."

"Heard about that, did you? Truth is, I didn't really pretend."

Jaden waited a beat. "So, the name Starborn isn't a coincidence?"

"When I found out, he was already a dying man. What is it?" Noah asked. Jaden had an odd expression on his face.

"Nothing. I was simply thinking that . . . that's something we have in common."

"What are you talking about?" Noah asked.

But whatever that expression had been, it was gone.

"It's nothing. Never mind." Jaden leapt to his feet. "How about that caramel apple?"

***

The next day saw them traveling across a thick fog that veiled the hills and concealed the sun. Kitera's mood seemed as sullen as the weather. Too much of that free ale last night, perhaps.

It would have been an uneventful journey, save for their running into a band of thugs. Clothed in rags that barely held together, they stood in the middle of the road with sticks for weapons, asking for coin purses, horses and boots.

"You make a lot of demands." Kitera's dark eyes narrowed. "How about we let you go unscathed if you let us through?"

She unsheathed her blade in one graceful arc. Next to her, Jaden already had an arrow notched, bow drawn. Noah didn't bother reaching for his knives; the thugs were already running away, disappearing into the fog.

They rode on in silence, but it seemed the encounter had troubled Jaden.

"Perhaps we should have offered some gold."

"You won't solve the bigger problem with a little bit of gold," Noah replied.

"I did hear poverty was getting worse in the north," Jaden said. "Of course, my sister is surely doing something about it."

"Maybe we should ask Kitera," Noah said. "She's friendly enough with the queen."

Where do her loyalties truly lie? Jaden's words played across his thoughts with annoying frequency.

Back very straight as she rode her tall grey, Kitera shot him a glare over her shoulder.

"The queen," she said, "is doing the best she can. Try running a country before you speak ill of her efforts."

"Gods' sakes, Kitera, I didn't speak ill of anything," Noah said. "You're awfully touchy."

She ignored that. "Let's pick up the pace. I'd like to find a village with a decent inn before nightfall."

***

Most of the fog lifted in the late afternoon, allowing for the sight of a village that crested a hilltop. The smoke of several chimneys curled up from slate roofs, grey columns reaching to meet heavy, opaque clouds. The chilled wind held the promise of rain, and the sky was darkening quickly. They guided their tired mounts up the slope, forests lining either side of the path.

Suddenly, Kitera reined Bolt in.

"What are you doing?" Noah asked. "We need to reach the village before dark, you said so yourself."

Kitera hushed him. "There's something going on in the woods."

"So?" Noah replied, but she just hushed him again.