“But that’s neither today nor tomorrow,” he said, turning back to one of the saddlebags on his horse. “I brought something for you.”
I waited, wondering what it could be since the only thing I’d been able to pack was underclothing and two additional sweater-tunics.
Opening one of the leather bags, he reached inside and pulled out something folded in a cloth. He unwrapped it as he turned to me.
My heart stopped and then sped up when I saw what he held in his hand, recognizing the ivory-hued handle and the reddish-black blade.
“My dagger.” My throat clogged. “I thought…I thought it was lost.”
“I found it later that night.” A sheathe lay under it. “I didn’t want to give it to you when I had to worry about you running off and using it, but you’ll need it for this trip.”
The fact that he was making sure I was equipped to defend myself in case it was needed meant the world to me. But the fact that he’d found the dagger and kept it safe for me…
“I don’t know what to say.” I cleared the hoarseness from my throat as he handed it over. The moment my fingers curled around the handle, I let out a shaky breath. “Vikter gave me this on my sixteenth birthday. It’s been my favorite.”
“It’s a beautiful weapon.”
The clog dissipated, and all I could do was nod as I carefully sheathed the dagger and then secured it to my right thigh. It took a moment for me to speak. “Thank you.”
Hawke didn’t respond. When I looked up, I saw a small group approaching. Two unfamiliar men on horses and six other men, leading their mounts toward us.
I recognized two of the guards immediately. I’d played cards with them at the Red Pearl. Phillips, and I believed the other was called Airrick. If they recognized me, it didn’t show as they greeted me with curt nods, neither meeting my eyes.
My scars tingled, but I resisted the urge to touch them or to turn so they weren’t visible.
I was surprised to see them, knowing that they weren’t Huntsmen, but I supposed there hadn’t been enough available to join us, and I was happy to see Phillips. He was someone who’d faced Craven time and time again and was still standing.
“The party has arrived,” Hawke murmured, and then louder, he began to make introductions. He rattled off names, most a blur beyond the two I knew, but then he said another name that tugged at my memory. “This is Kieran. He came from the capital with me and is familiar with the road we must travel.”
It was the guard who’d knocked on the door the night at the Red Pearl. It was like a reunion, I thought as I finally got to see him. He looked to be about the same age as Hawke, his dark hair trimmed close to the skull. His eyes were a striking shade of pale blue, reminding me of the sky during winter, a startling contrast to his warm, beige skin, reminding me of Tawny.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Kieran said as he mounted his horse.
“Same,” I murmured, noting that he had the same slight accent as Hawke, a lilt I still couldn’t place.
He looked toward Hawke, the angles of his face sharp and more than pleasing to the eye. “We need to be on our way if we have any hope of crossing the plains by nightfall.”
Hawke turned to me. “Ready?”
I glanced west, toward the center of Masadonia. Castle Teerman reached high above the Lower Ward and the Citadel, a sprawling structure of stone and glass, of beautiful memories and haunting nightmares. Somewhere in there, Tawny roamed, and the Duchess assumed control of the city. Somewhere in there, my present had become the past. I turned to the Rise. Somewhere out there, my future awaited.
Chapter 29
Within a few hours of our trek across the Barren Plains, I no longer had to rely on my imagination to know what Hawke had meant when he’d said that I’d be riding with him.
There was little space between our bodies. It hadn’t started out that way as the heavy doors of the Rise had opened and we passed the torches. Aware that the men traveling with us knew who I was, I sat straight and desperately ignored the feeling of Hawke’s arm around my waist, but the pace was hard. It wasn’t a dead run, but unused to how a horse moved, the stiff position quickly became awkward and painful. With each passing hour, I ended up closer to Hawke until my back was pressed to his chest, and my hips were cradled by his thighs. The hood of my cloak had slipped at some point, and I left it down, partly because I wanted to feel the wind on my face.
And in part because I could feel Hawke’s warm breath against my cheek every time he leaned down to speak to me.