A Heart so Fierce and Broken by Brigid Kemmerer

Author:Brigid Kemmerer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Inc

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

LIA MARA

By the third day, Grey estimates that we’ve covered seventy-five miles, always staying close to the creek. Iisak reports castle guards and enforcers in the towns when we draw near. We may not have horses, but Iisak swiped an array of supplies and weapons in the dead of night. We each have a dagger now. Two bows, though only one quiver of arrows. Two more swords. An iron pot that allows us to boil water and cook more than just roasted fowl.

When we rest at night, Grey tries to use his magic to heal Tycho, but he’s been unsuccessful. I can sense his frustration, but he doesn’t share his worries with me—or with anyone. Tense exhaustion seems to be a companion that silently follows us through the forest, and it’s the only companion I have. We travel together, but there’s a clear division among our party: Noah and Jacob, Grey and Tycho. Iisak keeps to the skies, leaving me to walk alone.

By the fourth night, the summer heat has grown oppressive, and everyone is bitter and snappish. Grey and Jacob have been sniping at each other for hours, and I’m ready to pick up a bow and shoot them both. Even Tycho has left Grey’s side to sit against a tree on the opposite side of tonight’s campsite, where Iisak has taken roost in the darkness of the branches. A frost-coated leaf drifts down from above, and Tycho catches it, grinning. “That’s a neat trick.”

I can’t help but smile at the wonder in his voice.

On the other side of our campsite, Jacob is arguing. “We stole weapons,” he says. “I don’t see why we can’t steal horses.”

“One weapon would not be immediately noticed,” says Grey. “Five horses would be—and their tracks easily followed.”

“Yeah, but on horseback, we could get away faster.”

Grey’s expression is cold. “On horseback, we are a larger target—”

“I’m going for a walk,” I say. My sister could be challenging in her own way, but at least we never bickered. “I’ll take the bow. Perhaps we can eat something other than wild goose.”

“Look,” says Jacob, not even paying attention to me. “I left one jerk of a prince behind. Don’t be too quick to fill the role.”

I scowl and sling the quiver over my shoulder, then head into the forest with the bow.

Silence immediately greets me, warm and welcome in the slowly darkening twilight. The bow is sleek and heavier than I’m used to, the polished wood like satin. I circle the camp in gradually widening arcs, moving farther away as the sun begins to disappear. I take aim at a rotted log about a hundred yards away and let an arrow fly. The arrow sinks right into the softened wood, only a few inches below where I hoped. Maybe the weight isn’t as bad as I thought.

I stride through the trees to fetch the arrow. When I straighten, movement flashes in the distance. I freeze.

A deer—no, a buck. Large and brown with beautiful dapples across its hindquarters.

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