Page 3 of Ashborne: Defiance

I sank deeper into the shadows, sent up a prayer for continued luck, then slipped silently between the trees toward a thicket of shadows the evening sun didn’t reach, which Grace would pass soon if she continued to follow my tracks.

I would slip past her and wait in the dark to snatch her.

Whatever she was, however she had come to be here, neither of us was leaving this forest until I found out.

2. Breaking the Cage

~ GRACE ~

I wished I could curse. Out loud. Spit those scandalous little syllables of spite, rat-a-tat-tat, without a care, the way the men did when they thought I wasn’t near enough to hear. But Nanny had trained me well. The moment one of those unspeakables came to mind, my belly twisted and I flinched in memory of Nanny’s ruler, applied sharply to my bare buttocks the one morning I’d grown bold and said damn out loud when the cat scratched me.

So, while the occasion certainly seemed to warrant inappropriate language, I kept my lips firmly closed and squinted ahead into the deepening shadows of the forest.

It would grow dark soon, yet this was the stunning hour during which the fading light turned every leaf and blade gold. When I looked up to search the branches of the trees overhead for my elusive prey, the dappled light danced through the canopy.

Yet, all that beauty revealed no sign of Vane, the man I’d been following for six hours.

My heart, which was already racing, galloped in my chest.

Where was he?

Frustration and self-doubt roared to life in my chest. I’d been certain he was close to whomever, or whatever he’d sought over this great distance. His posture had straightened, and his stride increased. He’d only been obscured from my sight for a moment, as I slipped behind the trunk of a tree when he turned to look casually over his shoulder. Yet, the next moment he was gone.

Had he reached his hidey-hole and I’d missed the entrance? But, no. There was still sign of his passage, though it was easy to miss.

That meant there was a chance he’d detected me, and fled.

If that were the case, perhaps I would swear after all.

It had been a frustrating day from the first. I’d been looking for my new friend, Bren, a visitor from the neighboring kingdom of Vosgaarde—or perhaps her devoted General Donavyn. But no one had seen either of them. Which was odd. Bren always shared breakfast with me unless she was riding—and no one had seen them leave the castle, or observed their dragons taking off.

After searching for over an hour, I thought to ask Cook if Bren had arrived and eaten earlier than usual—sometimes they flew their dragons in the small hours of the morning. But as she turned me away, unaware of Bren’s movements, I observed Vane, the guard Bren had introduced to me, slipping out of the trade entrance to murmur in the ear of the butcher’s man, outside.

I’d drawn back into the shadows of the kitchen in a blink, because I didn’t want Vane to catch me staring. But I hovered in the dark, watching, to see what he did. Wishing I didn’t want to know. He’d been rude and abrasive with me from the first moment we were introduced. I should have wanted nothing to do with him. But something about his dark, angular good looks, and the way he’d hovered protectively over Bren, fascinated me.

I couldn’t imagine what I’d done to offend him, and had no desire to attract more of his ire. Yet, the ache that appeared in my chest at the sight of him was disconcerting. I should have turned and continued my search. But I didn’t move.

And then something changed hands—either gold, or information—and Vane climbed into the back of the butcher’s wagon, along with the empty, stinking sacks.

The man who protected my friend in the absence of her lover was sneaking out of the castle?

Either, he was going to meet her, wherever she’d disappeared to, or he was the reason she was gone.

It was second nature to utilize the skills I’d developed to follow. Since the age of twelve, I’d grow so tense in the quiet, dark hours of the night, that I couldn’t breathe. I’d needed to move without eyes on my back, or my father’s guards following.

Those early, stumbling years were an embarrassment—so often discovered by the servants and sent back to bed, or revealed by a snorting horse and anxiously ushered back to the house by the grooms. But, what had begun as an adolescent’s rebellion, had become a woman’s weapon. One I could now employ at will. And at pace—because if I didn’t move, that wagon would reach the busy city streets, and the man hidden within could disappear before I’d even caught up.

I was forced to slip out of the castle without attracting attention, sprint to the stables, and garner myself a horse—along with a stable boy’s clothing—before galloping in pursuit.

Keeping myself out of the driver’s sight wasn’t hard. The man barely shook the reins of his mule. The wagon’s wheels creaked, and the intelligent animal followed the road, while the driver dozed until they reached the lower districts of the city and the streets became busy.

Their progress was so slow, and with no sign of movement under those sacks, I began to doubt that Vane remained under them.

My heart spun when, at a sharp corner of a narrow street, in the shade of the city wall, Vane lifted the canvas cover in the wagon back and slipped out, disappearing into the bustle of the streets without a word to the driver.

Relief flooded my veins. I’d almost made myself believe he wasn’t in the cart, and I followed a butcher home. But then he’d headed straight out of the city and I’d been forced to continue on foot, because on the relatively clear land around the road, the moment he turned his head he’d see me perched on horseback, even from a distance.

I was convinced he’d lead me to Bren, and continued to follow him, even when it became clear his trip would be across rugged countryside.