Bone Palace, The - Amanda Downum Page 0,78

sharp tugs, he ripped free one sleeve and passed it to the princess.

“There are bandages in the packs with the horses,” she said, crouching next to Savedra. “This will do till we reach them.” She tore the ruined sleeve away. Savedra closed her eyes against the sight of blood welling from deep claw wounds, and when she opened them again the princess was knotting the makeshift dressing. A drop of red splashed white cloth.

Not all the blood on Ashlin’s face came from the birds. A talon had gouged a furrow down her temple and onto the curve of her cheekbone. Rivulets of crimson tracked her cheek, feathering across her skin and dripping off her chin.

“What about you?”

“It’s nothing.” She snorted a laugh at Savedra’s expression. “This time I mean it. Just a scrape. I’ll clean it when we get out of here.”

“What now?” Cahal asked. Iancu resumed his place against the door so the lieutenant could wipe and sheathe his sword. Nothing struck the wood, but Savedra heard shuffling behind it.

“We get the hell out of here,” Ashlin said. “I’m not spending the night in this place.”

“There are more of them outside!”

“We have to chance it. Unless you want to stay.”

“No,” Savedra said instantly. “All right.”

More ravens wheeled over the courtyard, rasping voices echoing. A few dove as Savedra and the others raced for the gate, but no blows landed.

“They’re driving us off,” Cahal said as they paused in the shelter of the gate arch.

“They certainly are. And they can keep the place.”

Raucous shrieks followed them halfway down the mountain, finally dying away. Pain and fatigue gave way to fugue, and Savedra could remember nothing until Ashlin hoisted her into the saddle. She caught the pommel right-handed out of instinct and cried out as injured muscles flexed. Sweat soaked her, stinging in a dozen scrapes and scratches and chilling quickly now that she was still.

When they passed the salt circle they dared stop. Ashlin stripped away Savedra’s blood-soaked bandages and rinsed the wound, first with water and then with whiskey. Savedra sobbed at the latter. Ashlin’s hands shook by the time she wound the fresh bandages, and Cahal had to tie them off. He cleaned Ashlin’s wound too, eliciting an angry hiss. His ministrations left one side of her face clean, the other a half-mask of filth.

“We can stay the night in Valcov,” Iancu said. “Get you looked at by a physician.”

Savedra shook her head; her eyes ached with the threat of tears. “I want to go home.” It was foolish and childish, and she winced at the sound of the words. She waited for the others to talk sense into her, but instead they exchanged calculating glances.

“It will mean riding at night,” Iancu said at last, “but I admit I find the idea appealing.”

“Let’s go then,” Ashlin said. “The sooner we get under cover the happier I’ll be.”

Savedra glanced back as they urged the horses on, and saw winged shadows circling the towers of Carnavas.

It must have been a harrowing ride back to Evharis, but Savedra didn’t recall much of it. She had confused flashes of clinging to the saddle, and later slumping over her horse’s neck, and finally of Iancu carrying her up the steps into a confusion of light and warmth and concerned voices. She regained her senses inopportunely, as the physician appeared to clean and stitch her wound. Ashlin pressed a glass of brandy into her hand, and the world dulled once more.

It wasn’t till well past midnight, after an awkward one-armed bath that nearly lulled her into sleep and drowning, that she remembered the jewel she’d found in Carnavas. She picked up her ruined coat, meaning to drop the filthy thing in a rubbish bin, and something small and glittering fell out of the pocket and rattled across the floor.

Savedra crouched to retrieve it from the shadows under the bed. She’d drunk several glasses of medicinal brandy during the stitching, and the movement nearly toppled her.

A ring. A woman’s ring, a brilliant pigeon’s blood ruby in a delicate gold band. The setting was clogged with grime, the stone dull with it, but there was no mistaking its beauty or its worth. Such a ring would be costly anywhere, but in Selafai it would only grace the hand of a mage.

Was it hers? The mysterious missing Severos sorceress?

She staggered off her knees at a knock on the door, and the ring vanished into the pocket of her robe.

Ashlin entered before Savedra reached the door. The princess