doubt greatly injured their pride with his deception.”
“It was the Komizar’s pride,” Rafe corrected him, “and he’s dead.”
“Maybe.”
I looked at Sven, incredulous, and my heart squeezed to a cold knot. “There’s no maybe about it. I stabbed him twice and twisted the blade. His guts were in pieces.”
“Did you see him die?” Sven asked.
See him?
I paused, taking my time to compose a reasoned answer. “He was on the ground, choking on his last breaths,” I said. “If he didn’t bleed to death, the poison released into his gut finished him off. It’s a painful way to die. Sometimes slow, but effective.”
Wary glances were cast between them.
“No, I haven’t stabbed someone in the gut before,” I explained. “But I have three brothers who are soldiers, and they’ve held nothing back from me. There’s no chance the Komizar survived his injuries.”
Sven took a long, slow sip from his mug. “You were shot in the back with an arrow and fell into a raging icy river. Not good odds, and yet here you are. When we left the terrace … the Komizar was gone.”
“That means nothing,” I said, hearing the panic rise in my voice. “Ulrix or a guard could have carried his body off. He’s dead.”
Rafe set down his cup, the spoon clattering against the side. “She’s right, Sven. I saw Ulrix drag the body through the portal myself. I know a corpse when I see one. There’s no question, the Komizar is dead.”
There was a strained silent moment between them, then Sven quietly acquiesced, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.
I hadn’t realized I was leaning forward, and I lay back against the mound of blankets Rafe had made for me, weak with exhaustion, my back damp.
Rafe reached out and felt my forehead. “You’re running a fever again.”
“It’s only the fire and warm soup,” I said.
“Whatever it is, you need to rest.”
I didn’t argue. I thanked Orrin for the supper, and Rafe helped me over to my bedroll. The last few steps drained me, and I was barely able to keep my eyes open as Rafe helped me get settled. It was the most conversation and activity that I’d had in days.
He leaned over me, wiping strands of damp hair from my face, and kissed my forehead. He started to stand, but I stopped him, wondering what else he had seen.
“You’re sure you saw him dead?”
He nodded. “Yes. Don’t worry. You killed him, Lia. Rest now.”
“What about the others, Rafe? Do you think they survived? Governor Faiwell, Griz, Kaden?
His jaw clenched at the mention of Kaden’s name. He was slow to answer. “No,” he finally said. “I don’t think they made it. You saw the soldiers swarming in as we left. Kaden and the others had nowhere to flee. There was Malich too. The last time I saw Kaden, he was engaged in combat with him. If Malich made it down to the river, you can guess what happened to Kaden.”
The ache of what he didn’t say swelled in me—Kaden was no longer an obstacle for Malich.
“He got what he deserved,” Rafe said quietly.
“But he helped us fight so we could escape.”
“No. He was fighting to save your life, and for that I’m grateful, but he wasn’t trying to help you escape. He had no idea we even had a way to escape.”
I knew he was right. For their own reasons, both Kaden and Griz wanted to keep me in Venda. Helping me leave wasn’t their motive for raising swords against their brethren.
“He was one of them, Lia. He died the way he lived.”
I closed my eyes, exhaustion already making my lids too heavy to keep open. My lips burned with heat, and my mumbled words stung on them. “That’s the irony. He wasn’t one of them. He was Morrighese. Noble born. He only turned to Venda because his own kind had betrayed him. Just like I did.”
“What did you say?”
Just like I did.
I heard Rafe walk away and then there was more whispering, but this time I couldn’t discern what they were saying. Their muffled words wove with the darkness into a silky black fog.
* * *
I startled awake and looked around, trying to remember what had roused me. A dream? But I could recall nothing. Rafe slept next to me, his arm protectively around my waist as if someone might whisk me away. Jeb sat back against a large rock, his drawn sword at his side. It was his watch, but his eyes were closed. If we had a two-week lead,