Cassie's resolve to never look at James again lasted all of one day. The next morning Aldine asked her to get bread, and Cassie had only turned one corner when she spotted him. He was waiting for her, lounging against the next building with that insolent grin back on his stupid face. Cassie immediately turned on her heel and headed the opposite way. She would go the long way to Wynne's shop to avoid him. She should have expected that he would catch up to her quickly, easily keeping pace with her steps. She envied his long legs, even as she hated him for it.
"How did you sleep, blue eyes?"
He was deliberately baiting her, Cassie was sure of it. Grinding her teeth, she furiously ignored him.
"I thought we could take a ride together this morning. Aldine won't mind—I already checked."
Did he truly believe he could tempt her with a morning ride and she would be happy to see him? He should know that the solitude she got from exercising the horses was one of Cassie's favorite parts of life in Telyre. Instead, he was only interested in teasing her beyond the limits of endurance. She hated him.
But when Cassie opened her mouth to tell him what exactly he could do with his morning ride, her tongue was flooded with words of vitriol, all pushing to make it out at once. She choked on the barrage and stayed mute. It was best to remain silent. He was baiting her; she shouldn't react.
James continued on uninterrupted. "If you're worried about my superior equestrian skills, you shouldn't be. I promise to go slow. If you want to race, I'll even give you a head start."
He had progressed to insulting her now. If she'd had any doubts about his lack of intelligence, she did no longer. He was going to get himself killed.
However, despite all his best efforts to draw a response, she remained silent. There was a sort of victory in that.
James stepped ahead of her and stopped, effectively blocking her path. Short of shoving him out of the way, she had little option but to wait for him to move.
"Cassie, really," he said. "You're acting like you hate me."
She wasn't acting. "I do," she said. "You think that after yesterday—" she stopped herself.
He winced, but it was an act. Everything James did was for effect. Cassie was determined never to let him fool her again.
"This is about yesterday?" he asked. "I told you—!"
"Either get out of my way," Cassie said deliberately, "or I will make you."
Her knife was out and against his ribs, pressing a little more than gently. James leaned back slightly, but the knife followed him. He was nervous now. Good. He'd finally realized that she was serious.
He cleared his throat. "Cassie, you can't have believed how I acted in front of someone who wanted to kill us. After all we've been through, how could you think me serious?"
Cassie's knife did not waver. More lies. More jokes. She was a fool for trusting him and more a fool for being disappointed.
"It's the only time you've ever been serious," she said. "About how you feel about me." She cleared her throat, strove for equanimity, failed. "Why would you bother being that cruel unless it was the truth?"
"Okay, Cassie," James said, his voice lowering.
Any hint of a smile wiped from his face and he gave up trying to lean away from the blade. Instead, he leaned into it. Taken aback, Cassie pulled back minutely.
"Go ahead," he said, moving towards her now. "You want to kill me? I'm giving you your chance."
With each step he took closer, she felt herself losing ground.
"I deserve it for what I said about you," he said. He took another step forwards. "Drive the knife in," he coaxed. "You might feel better."
Another step, and her back hit the wall. She couldn't retreat any further. Still he pressed in. If she held her position, he was going to end up impaling himself.
The blade bit at his ribs and he couldn't hold back the wince of pain. He wasn't bleeding, but any closer...If he kept moving forward, if she didn't drop her hand, he would end up stabbed, bleeding to death in the street.
Like Tarun? As Cassie stared into James' green eyes, fascinated and horrified, as he continued to lean into her blade, they flickered, glazed over—closed.
No.
As much as she hated him, she couldn't bear to have more blood on her hands. Slowly, regretfully, she lowered her knife.
But he still didn't back away. If anything, he was moving even closer. There was nowhere for Cassie to go as his body caged hers, enveloping her in warmth. His eyes held hers prisoner as he stared down at her. He certainly looked serious.
"I was doing what I thought best, Cassie," he said, still not looking away. "If Longheirce knew, he would have used us against each other, and I've destroyed enough lives as it is."
"Knew what?" Cassie couldn't help but ask, and hated how breathless it sounded.
"That we care for each other."
The idea was laughable, yet Cassie had never felt like laughing less. "We do not—where do you even—" she sputtered.
"You do like me," James said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a self-satisfied smile. "We understand each other, you and I."
"James—"
She couldn't think with him so close, with his eyes boring into hers. She couldn't do anything.
"Or run me through," he murmured. "If you hate me so badly."
"I...I don't hate you," she managed. "Not anymore." Curse him, he had been right—she had been unable to hold onto her hate for him longer than a few days.
His eyes gleamed. "Good."
Finally he did move back slightly and Cassie took a deep breath, her lungs filling with air for what felt like the first time.
"Now about that ride," he began.
Cassie shook her head. "I promised Aldine bread."
"Want some company?"
Cassie stared up at him, considering the offer. An innocuous walk to the baker's? It did not feel very innocuous.
"Yes," she said, surprising herself with the word.
"An honor," James said, smile glimmering. "Besides, this way we can spread the word about yesterday's visitor. People need to be more on guard about going into the trees."
The only ones in town who usually dared were the two of them, but Cassie kept that thought to herself.
The peasants trading goods and gossip around the town center reacted with consternation to the news, as though they all spent their time sneaking into the forest.
"A bandit! Here!" the blacksmith cried.
"What did he want?" Thomas demanded. "If we give it to him, he might leave us alone."
"Well, he—" Cassie began, but James cut her off immediately.
"The same thing they all want," he said, glaring at her before she could admit to being the one bringing danger to the entire town. "To cause problems."
"First the banisè, now the bandits," Talia, the brewer, muttered.
"What's happened with the banisè?" James asked, caught off guard.
"You haven't heard? They're back," Talia said, using an arm to indicate the rest of the town. "Showed their faces this morning."
Did she mean the Gemmaros? James craned his head to look across the square, but there was no sign of them.
"Go ahead," Cassie murmured to him. He was fairly vibrating with eagerness, and she could feel it coursing through her body, too, the desire to see their friends. "They can't be too far."
"No need," James said, settling back into himself as his expression split into a wide grin. He had spotted them.
"Where?" Cassie stood on her toes, trying to see over the group clustered around the bakery. She would have expected some of them to disappear, eager to spread the news of a bandit sighting, but they were all far more interested in dissecting it first.
Taking hold of her by the waist, James turned Cassie back around. She found herself staring slightly down, into Silvana's unimpressed eyes.
"You're here!" Unable to contain her excitement, Cassie grabbed Silvana by the shoulders. She wasn't sure what she would do—embrace her, shake her, but she had to touch her. Had to be sure she was real.
And behind her, Skylar. "Good to see you a little recovered, Cassie," he said, smiling slightly. The beard was still there.
James dropped one hand but kept the other around Cassie's waist, a comforting weight. And a message, judging by the way Skylar glanced at her waist and then at James, an eyebrow raised.
"I'm—I'm trying," she said haltingly. There wasn't much else she could do. "Thank you for..." For caring? For making the trip to Telyre? For tracking down a witch to save her? "For helping."
"Of course," Skylar said. He cleared his throat as Silvana shrugged out of Cassie's grip, gruffly abashed. "If you ever need help, we are here for you."
"And I would—not that you would need or want my—but if you ever needed it, I am also at your service." Not that Cassie would be able to help them really, or the curse would likely bring more harm to them than if she stayed away, but if Silvana or Skylar every needed anything, Cassie would be eager to repay them in some small part for all they had done for her.
"What are you doing here?" James asked as they all approached Wynne's counter together.
Skylar half-lifted a full bag. "Restock," he said, although it seemed early for it.
"Well, it's good to see you," James said. "If you ever get bored, you don't need food for an excuse to visit." His smile turned faintly amused, as though he saw through their excuse.
"I've also been sent with a message," Skylar said in an undertone. "Orenda is growing impatient."
"And she couldn't write me a letter?"
Skylar shook his head. "It's not her way."
"Well, her way seems to be a lot more trouble than—"
"What would you like today, everyone?" Wynne's overly cheerful voice broke through whatever storm cloud was brewing in James' voice.
"Another blueberry roll?" Cassie asked hopefully.
"Held on to the last one for you," Wynne said, pulling one from under the counter.
"This is favoritism," somebody grumbled behind them.
"And how many times have you brought my uncle food, Keegan?" Wynne shot back, although it lacked any sting.
"Don't suppose you held on to another last one for me," James said, peering into the bakery.
"Unless there's a different meaning for 'last one' than I know of—"
"It's bribery, that's what it is," James said, his petulance tempered by half a smile. "Everybody knows you make them every day because she likes them."
"And?" Wynne retorted, flour-coated hands resting on her hips. "I have to keep myself in friends somehow."
Cassie bit into the roll, enjoying the burst of flavor from each dried berry. "Thanks," she mumbled from around her mouthful, then offered Silvana a bite.
"I can be a good friend," James replied, his mock offense overexaggerated.
"Sure," Wynne said, fighting a smile. "When there's something you can get out of it."
"I'd get bread out of it!"
Silvana tore off half of the roll for herself and passed the rest back to Cassie with a nod of thanks.
"Anything else for your—ah, friends?" Wynne asked Cassie, unable to hide her nervous glance at the Gemmaros.
They both shook their heads stiffly, although Skylar had difficulty tearing his eyes away from the variety Wynne had made that morning. "About Orenda—" he began to say to James, who groaned.
"She'll get what she's owed," he said, taking a round loaf Wynne passed him. "I'm working on it, it's just—it takes time. And with Longheirce skulking around now—"
"What?" It was news to Skylar and Silvana, too, then. Both of them leaned forward, tension radiating from them.
"He found us yesterday," James said, allowing some of his ill humor at the ambush to creep through this time. "He was on his own so we got away, but there's no telling if the rest of his band is with him or elsewhere."
"How did he find you?" Skylar demanded. "There's no way he would risk setting foot in the town."
James and Cassie shared a guilty glance. Skylar caught it.
"We were by the river!" Cassie defended themselves, as Skylar was drawing breath—to lecture them, no doubt. "It's basically an extension of the town boundary!"
"It's in the trees!"
"Bathing?" Silvana asked, eyes bouncing between Cassie and James with a little too much implication for Cassie's taste.
"No!" Cassie said, face heating.
"You shouldn't have taken the risk," Skylar started. They had not headed off the lecture, then.
"So I should never wash myself again?" she asked crossly.
"No, of course not," Skylar said, blushing a little himself. "But you know the danger—he'll use anything he can. He knows where you are, now, and there's no telling what he'll do to get to you."
"There might be some telling," James said, lowering his voice. "He mentioned something about the king offering rewards for news of missing noblewomen." They all looked at Cassie, who stared stonily back. "He sounded like he was considering it."
Let him consider it. Cassie would not allow herself to get dragged back home, whatever news he passed on about her.
"He wants revenge too badly," Cassie said. "He's not going to sell me out when it means passing on the chance to kill me himself."
Skylar was more interested in the chance at information. "Did he say more about why the king is offering bounties on missing noblewomen?" he asked. "Unless he's finally decided to get remarried."
"I've heard it's not noblewomen he's looking for," Wynne murmured, leaning closer to them. "Lily's sister Hope wrote and said they're trying to keep it quiet, but the younger princess has run off. He's been searching for her like mad, but hasn't found anything yet."
"So he's using a general reward to try and track her down?" Skylar thought it over, then nodded. "Not a bad solution, I suppose."
Silvana stared at the ground as Skylar shifted his grip on his bag of goods.
James, however, leaned closer, curious. "How long has she been gone?"
"Months, at least, Hope said."
It was not possible.
"Did she know why she ran?"
"Something about they were trying to marry her off, and she got spooked."
James snorted to himself, as though enjoying a private joke. "And she—it's just the spare, so the king wasn't too worried at first, I take it."
Wynne shrugged and shook her head.
"Cassie, you—" James looked at her, then paused. His eyes sharpened. "Months," he whispered.
The king had let his daughter be lost for months before he ever tried looking for her. Was it a fear of appearing weak, or a lack of love that had kept him from looking?
"I can't believe it," Cassie managed to say through numb lips.
"No," James agreed, expression careful. "Nor I." Turning to Skylar, he clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come and find me before you skip town. If you'll excuse me, I have to write a letter."
With that as his only farewell, James turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of his home.
Silvana, still chewing away at her piece of roll, looked at Wynne and shrugged.
Skylar, casting about for something else to say, landed on, "And how is Sarita? Is Henry glad to have another musician in town?"
Wynne sucked a breath through her teeth. "Well..." Cassie could see the conflict in her expression: torn between wanting to share a story and not wanting to speak ill of someone. "Her last song performance was more...modern...than we're used to here."
"Modern how?"
"I should get these back to Aldine." Cassie lifted the packet of bread Wynne had given her and slipped back through the crowd. Torn between the desire for gossip and fear of the banisè, they all hovered just on the verge of earshot around Wynne's shop.
After a nod to her brother, Silvana went with her. Cassie was glad of the company. She could learn how the Gemmaros had been faring since she had left them.
She had forgotten how little Silvana shared.
"You've been well?" she asked as they exited the square. "And Skylar?"
An affirmative grunt was her answer.
"There haven't been any other bandits sniffing around, giving you trouble?"
"No."
"I've missed you. Both of you."
"Hm."
"How is Skylar's boar wound? The scar's not too bad, I hope?"
"Ugly."
That was fair. Cassie had done a terrible job on it. So long as it had healed without infection, it was the best they could have hoped for.
"And with Orenda—I know you were the one who had to track her down." Cassie glanced at Silvana, who was avoiding her gaze. "I hope you didn't have to go through too much trouble for it—for me."
A shrug.
There was too much—too many topics she had needed to bring up with Silvana. Too much she had learned, too much she still needed to learn.
"Silvana—the knife." Silvana's steps checked imperceptibly at that. "James explained to me about the customs—I didn't know that—I wish you'd said something."
"Why?" Silvana asked, sliding her a look. "That's not required."
"Because if I had known—" Cassie bit back her rising volume, exasperated. "It means so much to me, now that I know what it means."
"Still throws straight?"
"Of course."
"Then you can keep it."
Cassie pushed Aldine's door open, shaking her head fondly. She should have expected as much. "I've got the bread," she called, depositing it in the kitchen. Silvana lingered by the front door as Cassie paused in the workroom entrance. "Do you need me to..."
Aldine and Almana looked up, Aldine making some careful stitches in a belt. "I don't think I need anything else today, no," she said with a smile. "Would you like to sit with us?"
"Where's Leora?" Cassie asked, eyes tracking the room. It was unusual for the girl to not be with Aldine or her mother, or up to some kind of mischief with her friends.
Almana's expression grew wary. "I gave her the day free. I thought she would be with you."
Cassie winced at the accusatory tone. "Right."
"Well, where is she, then?" Almana's voice sharpened.
"I...uh...I'll find her and send her home immediately."
Aldine's brow creased with concern. "Cassie, what's the matter?"
"I'm sure it's nothing," she said. "It's just—there was a bandit in the woods yesterday. None of us should go out in the forest for a while."
"I wouldn't worry too much," Aldine said, although Almana looked concerned. "Most people are too afraid to go out there anyway."
"Leora isn't." And she and Cassie had been spending so many afternoons in the meadow together, unless someone told the girl not to go...Inside, the ever-familiar snake of fear raised its head, ugly body coiling itself around her stomach.
"You think she might...?"
"I need to find her," Almana said, pushing herself up.
Then Cassie was back in the street, head swinging towards the meadow, then back for the town center, pulling her one way and then another.
"I'll ask at the other parents' homes," Almana said, stepping out into the street.
"I'll check the square and out toward the groves," Aldine said, pulling on a cloak and closing the front door behind them.
"I need—we need—" She was stumbling over her words; she was losing control. How would Elisabet have handled this? Focus. Calm. She forced herself still, closed her eyes, took a breath. Longheirce, Leora, the meadow. Her eyes opened and fixed on Silvana, who was waiting on her. Aldine and Almana were already halfway down the street.
"She may be out there, and if—" She began shaking and could not finish the thought. She collected herself again. "We need backup. We're stopping at the stables." Her hand flew to her side, reaffirming that she was armed. They would get James and head into the forest, to the one place Leora could not be.
Silvana nodded but jogged off in the same direction that Aldine had gone. Cassie did not have the time to chase her down. It was more important she get to Leora.
She had no memory of walking or running, but she was at the stables, calling for James. His head appeared in a window almost immediately, his curious smile fading almost immediately as Cassie explained in a panicked rush.
He had no sooner vanished in the window than he was pulling his door open, buckling his short sword on as he went. He was tense but alert, much better at handling the stress of the situation than Cassie was.
"She might still be in town, you know," he reassured her, but all Cassie could think about was the passing of each second with a sight of Leora.
"You know she's always going out there." She had not been in the square. Had she? Cassie would have noticed—wouldn't she? There had been children, but not Leora.
"I'm glad they're checking the other side of town," he said. "You'll see. They'll find her hunting for sprites in the berry bushes and we'll have a good laugh."
Cassie nodded, unconvinced. Wishing he was right.
Silvana jogged into sight, Skylar at her heels. Good. More eyes to look. And more weapons. Skylar had several knives, and Silvana was already gripping her bow.
"We passed a few children on our way—" Skylar said, a question there.
"Any of them have longer hair?" Cassie asked. Leora's had not been cut in months now, and it was forever getting in the way. "Or—or heading this direction?"
Skylar shook his head.
The terror that had begun to coil in Cassie's stomach was now slithering its way up her chest, gripping at her throat until she could barely breathe. Watching the army of Citak bear down on her band of archers was nothing compared to this not knowing, this certainty that something was horribly wrong.
They raced past the wooden fortress of the stable, past the quarantine hut, and they had left the boundary of the town.
Were they too late? Her breath was coming in painful gasps, her lungs constricted by terror.
What would she do if she found the meadow empty? If Leora wasn't there, then—she refused to think of what that would mean.
No longer caring about how ill-advised it was to make unnecessary noise in the woods, she started yelling.
"Leora?" she shouted as she crashed through the greenery. "Leora, answer me!"
"Cassie?" she heard faintly, and then louder: "Cassie!" as the meadow came closer.
Finally she burst into the clearing, her blade clutched in her sweaty hand.
"Leora," she panted when she caught sight of the girl. "Are you—"
"It's okay, Cassie." The blonde head bobbed reassuringly.
The three others who skidded to a halt behind Cassie were less than inclined to believe her.
Their doubt probably had something to do with the burly man who was gripping Leora by her shoulder and grinning at them. Or it might have been the knife he held against her throat.
"Leora." Cassie worked to make her voice as even as possible. "Who is this?" And can we kill him fast enough?
"Oh, he's one of mine." The cool, confident sound of restrained gloating.
Longheirce stepped out from under the shadow of the trees, and the only thing that stopped Cassie from leaping on him and beating him to a pulp was James. His hand shot out and yanked her back with an iron grip.
"Don't!" he hissed. "He could hurt her first."
"And we don't want that, now do we?" Longheirce said.
Still Cassie struggled frantically to break away. Didn't James get it? He was threatening Leora. Her arms flailed uselessly, alternately shoving at James and reaching for the bandit. Finally James was forced to wrap a hard arm around her torso to immobilize her.
Skylar and Silvana stepped forward, but James cautioned them, "Wait."
He raised his voice to shout across the meadow. "What do you want, Longheirce?"
"Want?" He sounded ruminative, as though he had never been asked the question before. "What I want is to kill her." He jerked his chin at Cassie, cleaning under his nails with the tip of a dagger.
She snarled at him. He had tried and failed before; let him come at her again. She would destroy him.
James's arm tightened as though he knew what she was thinking. "That is not an option." His voice had gone as hard as steel.
The bandit pointed with his dagger, punctuating his words. "And therein lies my dilemma! You leave me no choice, James."
Leora whimpered.
There was nothing Cassie could do to comfort her. No words she could speak without lying. She strained again at her prison, aching to fold the girl into a hug, but James's arm and face were like stone.
"It's four against two," Skylar said, the words carrying across the clearing.
"Perhaps," Longheirce said. "But she would be dead by your second step forward."
To emphasize the point, the bandit's knife pressed harder into Leora's throat. She cringed, and the fear and pain on her face finally drew Cassie into the sick, twisted game Longheirce had planned.
"What about a trade, you filthy whoreson?"
Skylar took his attention off the bandits for the first time to glance at her with raised eyebrows.
Well, she wasn't nobility anymore. She'd lived in the forest, killed men, and seen her sister dead. She would never belong in a castle again. So she was not going to restrain herself from calling Longheirce what he was—a whoreson, and a blackguard to boot. She'd kill him herself if she got half a chance and then spit on his bones.
Longheirce smiled slowly. He had planned for this, and Cassie didn't care.
"I'm listening," he said.
She spoke past the dryness in her throat. "Me for the child. You get what you want: your chance to kill me."
"No!"
"Be quiet, Leora!" Cassie said harshly.
James was shaking his head. She ignored him.
"And in return, you leave this village alone and never return to it."
Longheirce spread his arms wide. "I have no quarrel with the poor." He thankfully missed Silvana's snort of derision. "They are innocent. It is only you rich parasites that need to be punished. You—especially you." He pointed his dagger again.
A poorly delivered lie. He hated her because she had humiliated him. This had nothing to do with class. It didn't matter, however—only Leora's safety did.
"Wait until you have her safe," she muttered to the three around her. "And then we all attack at once."
She raised her voice to yell at Longheirce. "Are we agreed, you miserable excuse for a man?"
Leora was whimpering a litany of Nos, terror in her eyes.
There was no way for Cassie to signal that it would be fine, that they had a plan. She had to ignore the girl, or that little voice would break her heart.
"Agreed."
James slowly unwound his arm and released her, indicating his reluctance with her idea.
Granted, it wasn't a perfect plan. Anything could go wrong—and she would be the closest one to the bandits. If she let her guard slip even a little, she would be dead instantly. This was no training exercise, and the ravenous mouth of death was gaping open before her again. Eager, always eager for her.
Silvana stared her in the eye, giving no quarter. "Fight well."
Cassie firmed her chin and nodded. She would fight the way they had taught her: with no mercy.
"You'll be fine," Skylar said, giving her an encouraging smile. "So long as you don't do anything stupid."
Cassie managed to laugh. She would make no promises.
James was last. He did not hug her. Instead, he caught her by the shoulders and looked down into her face.
"Is this the part where the daring fighter begs for a kiss from the beautiful maiden, should they never meet again?" he said. Always ready with a joke when she needed it most.
Cassie tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth trembled. "You're hardly a maid."
"Quite true."
He saw the fear in her eyes, and Cassie was too afraid to care. She didn't want to risk her life like this—but she was not going to leave Leora in danger.
James slid a hand down her back, sinking composure into her body until her knees steadied. She could do this.
"Take out the other one first," he murmured. "And come back to me."
She nodded.
It was time.
She was ready to end this, ready to not be afraid anymore.
James's touch stayed with her as she stepped forward.
The permanent sneer on Longheirce's unwashed face came into sharper focus, faster than she was prepared for. He was tapping his dagger into his palm impatiently. Cassie still gripped her own knife, ready to strike. Ready to kill.
She could also see Leora more clearly, including the damp tracks that tears had left on her cheeks. By now, she had ceased crying. Instead, she was staring fixedly at Longheirce, her brow crinkled into a familiar expression of concentration. One hand barely tugged at her captor's arm, as if more on principle than an attempt to escape, and the other was hidden in the folds of her dress.
Cassie halted when there were two long strides between them.
"It is time to release the girl, Longheirce," she said.
He nodded to his man, who relaxed his grip. So slowly.
It wasn't a perfect plan, but it could have worked. They could have succeeded without getting any of them hurt.
That possibility evaporated in the blink of an eye.
As soon as she felt the bandit's grip loosen, Leora pulled out the hand she had hidden and swung it against the man's leg. He let out a howl of pain.
Everyone jumped at the sound and stared at him. A tiny handle was sticking out of his thigh at an unnatural angle. Leora tugged at it and pulled her little knife back into her control.
Longheirce's man snarled and swung his knife.
Cassie tried to take the two steps required to stop him, but it felt as though she were fighting the current of the river. She couldn't move fast enough.
Behind her there was a shout and three pairs of feet jumping forward, but all too slow.
The blade was whistling through the air, straight for Leora's head.
The only one who was fast enough was Leora, who ducked to the side with a well-practiced movement. Cassie barely had time to feel a spark of pride in the girl before she saw the blood—as bright as life—blooming.
Even Leora had misjudged how quickly the blade was coming for her. It had missed her head, but found purchase on her arm.
She cried out, feeling the wound open.
Finally, finally, Cassie had reached them. She buried her knife to the hilt in the man's neck and had turned away, sprinting after Leora, before his knees even began to buckle.
"Leora! NO!" she shouted, but the girl was not listening.
She was running straight for Longheirce, with her little knife held in her bloodstained hand. What was she trying to do, take down the infamous bandit herself?
Longheirce smacked the knife out of her hand as soon as she came close enough. Not one to be deterred easily, she went at him again, this time with her fists.
Cassie couldn't stop it.
Leora landed a good blow against his stomach, and Cassie winced at the noise of fist meeting flesh: a hollow thud.
Longheirce was bored—and irritated. He picked the child up by the leg and threw her like a rag doll.
The whole world stilled: breath, feet, time. The only sound was that of a few discourteous trees rustling.
It was so quiet that when her head hit the tree, the crack resounded through the world, a world full of nightmares. And then slowly, so slowly, she fell. Tumbling down, she landed on the ground. Quiet, and still.
Cassie screamed.
It had no words, no room yet for any emotion but fury.
The others were running now, not fighting molasses, and Cassie was charging forward, and it didn't matter that Longheirce was slipping back to the trees, because they were going to catch him, and Cassie would make him pay.
James caught her first, his grip yanking her back out of the trees. "Cassie, go back!" he told her. "It's too dangerous!"
Cassie tried to wrench her arm away. They were wasting too much time. "I have to!"
"No! He could be leading us back to his band."
Skylar and Silvana sprinted by, going after Longheirce. Cassie wanted to join them, but James wouldn't let her move forward.
"I can't lose you, Cassie," he told her, his eyes almost frantic. "Go."
Numbly, she obeyed. James grasped her hand faster than thought, then he was running into the forest, catching up to the chase.
The meadow looked so peaceful, so quiet. Even the body.
She had fallen strangely, her arms and legs akimbo and her eyes open and unseeing. The head tilted at an unnatural angle, making Cassie retch.
Somehow she was able to collect the tiny body in her arms and carry her back to Telyre. She was forced to watch the same progression on every person's face, from confusion to alarm, then diving headfirst into horror. One of the men took the body from her, and then Aldine found her. It was Aldine who brought her home, sat her down in the living room, and then left to tell Almana, an impossible task. There were a thousand questions nobody wanted to ask and she hated having to answer, but the world seemed eerily quiet. The color had leached from the day and Cassie was alone.
There were hushed noises of dismay outside the window as the news spread, and some would later swear they could hear when Aldine reached Almana, could hear the fracture of the mother's heart from five streets over.
Inside the house, it was quiet.
There was nothing in the living room for her to do, save sit in the silence. Distantly feeling her feet moving, Cassie wandered from room to room. She had no interest in the food in the kitchen, had no desire to sleep upstairs.
The workroom.
She could organize. Keep her hands busy, hopefully settle her mind.
Thread was respooled and stacked in tidy pyramids. Scissors by the half-dozen pincushions, because Aldine was always losing track of both. Fabric scraps in the wicker box under the table.
Unfinished work would—Cassie's fingers stilled.
She was holding the sleeve of one of her own dresses, staring at an unfinished, embroidered flower. It was misshapen, although still better than anything Cassie could have produced, the red petals a cheerful touch to such a simple garment.
Leora had been decorating hems and sleeves, even though she could barely stay focused long enough to outline a single flower at a time, and Cassie's clothes had been the latest victims offered up for practice. Leora had been so excited to add embellishments to Cassie's plain dress, she had kept Cassie informed of every stitch.
Cassie's vision blurred.
The needle, still threaded, glinted in the weak light, stuck through the cloth like an unspoken promise.
The petal was only half-done.
The void fluttered.
Cassie tried reaching for it again, but it refused to let her in. She could not escape the fact of Leora's death, could not close her eyes and pretend that a broken neck was fixable.
She was gone.
Without thought, Cassie turned and hurled the dress, embroidery hoop still attached, against the wall.
Her useless legs folded and she sank to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest as she pressed a fist to her mouth, lungs shuddering with sobs. Nothing would help this new chasm of agony opening inside her. She was gone.
This morning she had been sewing a flower, and now she was gone.
The sun set with a dread finality.
Against all odds, it rose again.
It was midmorning before James came back. She could hear him opening doors, searching for her, before he discovered her on the floor of the workroom. With heavy steps, he approached Cassie. She had long since ceased to cry, but she had remained, unwilling to think of moving. He knelt down and took her hands in his, ignoring their frigid temperature.
"We followed him as far as the foothills," he said hoarsely. "We weren't familiar with the terrain. He disappeared; I don't know how."
There was nothing to say, so she stayed silent. She couldn't even tell him where the body had been taken. He should find someone else who would know. Someone useful.
"Cassie?" His voice rose sharply, intruding on the fog in her head. "Talk to me, love. Don't do this again."
Glancing up, she finally noticed his stricken face. He flinched when their gazes met. What had he seen in her eyes?
She dropped her eyes again and mindlessly fiddled with her sleeve.
"My fault," she muttered. "Should have stopped her."
James gave what sounded like a heavy sigh of relief. "I thought I'd lost you again."
Cassie shook her head jerkily. "I promised—her—I—I wouldn't break again."
She had not broken this time. Cassie was not sure there was anything left of her to break.
"If I had—"
"No," he said. "You tried. There was nothing you could have done. None of us could..." His voice broke, and Cassie looked up in astonishment to see a tear escaping his eye.
This time they were all hurting, not just Cassie. Without thinking, she wiped at his tears. He leaned into her touch, his expression tortured.
No matter what James said, it was her fault.
"I never should have taught her to fight," she said, her throat tight.
James shook his head, finally taking a seat beside her. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together over his knees.
"We thought it would help," he said, "and it gave her hope."
His hand came out and rubbed her cheeks, frightening Cassie. It wasn't until he pulled his now-wet hand back that she realized she had once again lost the battle against her tears.
His fingers were rough, but his touch was gentle.
"We will get through this," he said, wrapping an arm around her.
She shook her head. "I don't want to," she whispered.
Living hurt too much. She wished she could disappear back into oblivion.
"I know, Cassie," he said seriously. "It hurts like mad, and it always will. But the world will move on, even if the sun has stopped shining."
Cassie shook her head again and buried it in his shoulder. The world hurt and she wanted no part of it.
The tears came and went, but James was always there.
***
It took a long time for any laughter in Telyre to sound natural again. The winds of winter gave way to spring rain, another harvest began, and the army collected its quota of food for doing nothing except terrorizing its own citizens, but still the village remained unable to escape a cloying cloud of somberness.
Almana only went outside when it was absolutely necessary, preferring to grieve privately. She wasn't the only one. There was remarkably less hustle and bustle in the streets; it was replaced with hushed shuffling. The next time Almana went to bathe, she was pulled out face-down by Thomas. No one knew if she had done it on purpose, or if she had just slipped on a stone, but Eleanor began staying with her to keep watch.
People gradually remembered how to smile, what happiness was. Sometimes the dashing past of another child would bring to mind Leora's golden head, but a quick second look was a sufficient, if cutting, reminder that she was gone.
Life began to piece itself back together, learning how to cope with the pain. Cassie relearned how to laugh at James's jokes and she and Wynne stopped crying every time they were together. Smiles appeared, children ran again, creating trouble as they always do.
Their family remained incomplete, but it finally remembered that mourning cannot last forever.