Duskfall (44 page)

Winter took out one of her small knives and began gutting the squirrel.

“I’ll be back,” Astrid said, walking off into the foliage. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Where are you going?”

Astrid looked back at Winter, meeting her eyes. “Everyone has secrets,” the girl said.

Then Astrid was gone.

For a brief moment, Winter wanted to follow her. What secrets could the girl have? But the compulsion faded at the realization that if she discovered whatever it was Astrid was hiding, she might have to reveal some truths of her own.

Winter sighed, looking down at the squirrel. She
was
hungry. It had been a long time since she had hunted an animal. She used to do it all the time with her father, hunting harts and hares and even snowbears on occasion. But in the couple years before they found Knot, they had needed to spend more and more time on the water to reach their fish target, which had meant less time in the forest, where Winter loved being even more than the sea.

Bahc had said it was her mother’s fault, her love of the forest. Her father came from one of the sea-faring tiellan tribes, while her mother’s ancestors were from the deep eastern woods. People had always said her parents had been the perfect match. Winter wished she could have seen them together. Her father had spoken of her mother often, but never of what they were like as a couple.

She missed them. But, in a small way, in a way that made her feel filled with poison, she was glad they were dead. At least they didn’t know what she had become.

* * *

The squirrel was nearly cooked when Astrid reappeared with a smile on her face.

“Hope that thing serves six,” she said. “They’re almost here, and they look tired. Probably been traveling all night.”

Winter couldn’t stop her own smile from spreading across her face. The squirrel would make a meager meal for six but she could find some herbs and roots to supplement it. Meager or not, she would gladly share it.

“I’m glad he’s back, too,” Astrid said. She grinned at Winter, who raised her eyebrows. Astrid snorted. “I just like him, is all. He’s not my type, anyway. Not to mention the age difference.”

Winter’s cheeks grew hot. Who actually spoke that way? The girl was insane.

“Fine, I know when I’m not wanted,” Astrid said, but she was grinning. “I’ll be close. If they return before I do, call for me.” Then she hesitated. The levity was gone from her face, and if Winter didn’t know any better, she would’ve said the vampire looked earnest.

“You don’t need him, you know,” Astrid said.

“What?”

“I mean… don’t take this the wrong way—I’m glad that you two found each other. Hope that you can heal whatever rifts separate you. But don’t mistake your own strength for his. You’re strong, Winter. Not because of Knot, or Lian or anyone.
You
are strong, and… you can do a lot. Knot can help you, and if you can, I think you should accept his help. Canta knows, you need help of some kind. But you don’t need his love to be worth something. Just like you don’t need what’s in there,” she nodded at the pouch at Winter’s waist, “to be truly powerful.”

Then Astrid turned, and disappeared into the forest.

E
VERYONE SAT AROUND THE
fading fire as Astrid and Winter told their story. Knot’s hands trembled; so much had happened in the past day. Astrid had run off, he’d been thrown into a freezing river, and Winter had been taken.

But then the priestess and her Goddessguard—perhaps they were worth having along after all—had saved him, had warmed him by a fire. The group had walked all day and all night to find Winter, who’d been cooking breakfast as if nothing had happened, and Astrid, who hadn’t run off after all.

And now here they all were, safe. An ugly bump on the back of Lian’s head and blisters from walking all day and all night were their only injuries. Knot had expected opposition when he insisted they walk through the night, but everyone had agreed.

But the previous day was distressing for other reasons. Why did the robed men take Winter of all people? Winter and Astrid said the men had been taking Winter to Izet, the capital of Roden. Knot’s final destination. Would he encounter the robed men there, again? That they rarely spoke, that they had kept such an unnatural pace for so long, made it clear that they were not normal soldiers.

And Knot could tell that both Winter and Astrid were holding things back. There were gaps in their story. Though those gaps occurred
after
Astrid and Winter had escaped the robed men. Knot needed to speak to them both alone, though he wasn’t sure how.

An opportunity presented itself when Astrid stood and gathered a few waterskins to fill. They’d taken their time that morning, allowing everyone to rest after a long night of traveling, but they needed to move soon. Daylight was too valuable a resource.

Knot stood to follow Astrid. Winter and Cinzia were laughing at something Jane had just said. Lian and Kovac sat talking quietly. It was good they were all getting along. Winter seemed to have a difficult time getting along with anyone, lately, let alone humans.

Astrid noticed him following her and stopped. “Not interested in the fireside chat, nomad?” she asked.

Knot shrugged. “Need some fresh air.”

Astrid laughed, continuing towards the riverbank as he caught up with her. “You need fresh air like I need a tan. What do you want to talk about?”

Knot was unsure where to start. “Thought you’d left us,” he said as they reached the water.

“I did.” Astrid bent down, waterskin in hand. “I just decided to come back.”

The girl could be so damn frustrating.

“Thanks for noticing, by the way,” Astrid said. “Good to know I was missed.”

Knot grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. “I need to know I can trust you,” he said.

Astrid stared back at him, her eyes afire. “You can trust me.”

“Wish that was good enough,” he said, “but it ain’t.”

“It has to be. That’s all you’re getting. That, and the fact that I saved your wife.”

“That’s why you did it? To prove your trustworthiness?”

Astrid rolled her eyes, shrugging away from his grip. “I did it because she was in danger, Knot. You’re twisting this around. Don’t get all twisty on me.”

Knot took a breath. Astrid was right. He didn’t need to make this about himself.

But it
was
about Astrid.

“You saved me in Navone,” Astrid said. She tossed all but one of the waterskins to the ground and knelt, dipping the last into the river. “That’s not something I just betray.”

“What I heard in Brynne—”

“I don’t
know
what you heard in Brynne,” Astrid said, shaking her head. “It wasn’t real. It didn’t happen. I wish I could help you believe that. I
wish
you could trust me. I don’t know how to make you see, other than to keep doing what I’m doing.” She grabbed another waterskin.

Knot wasn’t sure how to respond. Was she right? What else
did
he expect of her? He remembered how vulnerable she’d been in Navone. The horrific need of her embrace. He hadn’t known what to do with her then, and still didn’t now. He sat down on the bank next to her. The ground was cold beneath him, damp with melted snow.

“I want to do the right thing here. Just don’t know what that is,” he said.

They sat silently while Astrid filled the rest of the waterskins.

“You remind me of someone,” she said. A slight breeze stirred the hair around her face.

Goddess, she’s so young
, he thought.

“Someone I knew a long time ago,” Astrid continued. “Someone I’m not even sure… I have memories of him, but I don’t remember much. I don’t know his name, I don’t know who he was to me. But he made me feel safe.”

She looked at him, strands of hair blowing across her bright green eyes. “I feel that around you,” she said. “I haven’t felt that way around anyone else, and… and I want to hold on to that as long as I can.”

Knot nodded slowly. There were few people he’d felt safe around since waking in Pranna. Bahc had been one. Winter, at one time, had been another. Now, Knot wasn’t so sure that was the case.

And Astrid. Knot wanted to trust this girl, curse of the Ventus be damned. But how could he?

They sat watching the gray water flow past. Trees covered the bank opposite them, and beyond that was only leaden, cloud-covered sky.

“How do you do it?” Astrid asked. Knot looked at her, not sure what she meant. “I mean… how do you kill people? I’ve seen you do it. We’re both pretty sure you had a lot of experience with it, at one point. How do you do it and… and not feel anything?”

Knot shrugged. Why would Astrid care about such a thing?

“Shouldn’t I ask
you
that?” he said. “Seems you might have a bit more experience.”

Astrid shook her head. “I’ve killed hundreds of people. Sometimes I relished it, craved it. Especially in the beginning. But, lately… I feel it. Every time.” She looked at him. “Why do we do what we do?”

“To survive,” he said. “We make choices. Same with the people we fight. We can’t control what they do, we’re left with one option.”

“You really believe that?”

Knot hesitated, watching the river flow. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t.”

“I don’t, either,” she said. “But we end people’s lives, anyway. We leave children parentless, take husbands and wives from one another. We do it because if we didn’t the same would be done to us. What gives us that right?”

Because we’re better at it
, Knot wanted to say.

“Some people do not have the capacity to kill,” he said instead. He didn’t know where the words came from, but he’d heard them before. No, it was more than that. He’d
said
them before. “Those people, even in defense of their own lives, can not take the life of another. And society could not survive without them; they are the ones who build it. We protect them so they can build, so they don’t have to fear. Others can take a life, if the situation calls for it, during war, for their Goddess, or in self-defense or the defense of those they love. They do so reluctantly, but they do it. These people become great warriors, but they carry what they do with them; the lives they take haunt them. And then there are those few who take life and feel nothing. They kill for any reason, from small and petty to great in scope and with honor. These people become villains or true heroes. They will become one or the other, there is never any middle ground.”

Knot looked at Astrid. “It’s not that I feel
nothing
,” he said. “I don’t know what I felt before, but since Pranna, I feel it, too. I crave the kill beforehand, and I regret it afterwards. I detest myself but I do it anyway.”

“I know the feeling,” Astrid whispered.

“Don’t let go of that feeling,” Knot said fervently. “If you’ve kept it, after all of these years, you’ve managed something… something incredible. Never let it go.”

“Wouldn’t it be best to not kill at all?” Astrid asked.

Knot shrugged. “That’s a luxury I can’t afford.”
And a choice I don’t think I can make on my own anymore
.

“We’d better get back,” he said. “Cover some ground while it’s still daylight.”

Astrid nodded. Knot helped her up, then took some of the waterskins to carry.

“One more thing,” he said, as they were walking back to the camp.

“Don’t ask me about your wife,” Astrid said.

Knot raised his eyebrows. He
had
been about to ask about Winter. How had she known?

“It’s not my place,” Astrid said. “If you want to know about her, ask her yourself. I think she’ll tell you. I think she needs to.”

Astrid was right. He should talk to Winter himself, not go behind her back.

C
INZIA DROPPED HER PACK
to the ground with a sigh. Other than a short nap that morning, she had walked for nearly two days straight. She tried not to complain. Everyone else had done the same thing, with the exception of Winter and Astrid.

And, the night before that, Jane and Cinzia had stayed up the entire night translating. All in all, Cinzia could hardly believe she was still on her feet. She was exhausted, and yet she felt an odd sense of energy about her. If needed, Cinzia almost thought she could go another mile or two. Or stay up a few hours to translate. Or both. It might be delirium from sheer exhaustion, but she was clear-headed. And she
did
feel tired, but her strength seemed to come from something outside of herself.

Jane cleared snow from a rock and sat on it. She took off one of her boots and began rubbing a foot with both hands.

“Here,” Cinzia offered, sitting in front of her sister and holding out her hand. Jane looked at her in surprise. Cinzia could not blame her; their relationship had not been cordial since they left Navone. Translating brought them together, but otherwise, the tension between them only seemed to grow.

“Thank you,” Jane said, as Cinzia took her foot and began massaging it through the heavy stocking.

Cinzia smiled. “What are sisters for?”

Knot had divvied tasks among them before they stopped for the evening. Kovac and Lian were already gathering wood for a fire. The tiellan had been reluctant to be around Cinzia’s Goddessguard at first, but now the two seemed to get along. Lian muttered something as they walked off into the forest, and Kovac chuckled. Cinzia smiled.

Hunting fell to Winter and Astrid; between Winter’s skill with the bow and sling and the vampire’s… well, the vampire did not seem to have trouble bringing in hares, squirrels, and other small game, and Cinzia was not sure she wanted to know any more than that.

Knot, Cinzia, and Jane set up the sleeping area and cleared a space for the fire. Knot carried a large canvas sheet in his pack that he sometimes strung up between trees, above their heads, if snow threatened on the horizon.

Cinzia, still massaging Jane’s foot, felt her sister flinch.

“Sorry.” She must have hit a tender spot. Jane’s face briefly twisted in pain, but then she nodded at Cinzia.

“It’s all right,” Jane said. “Thank you.”