The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,51

looked up at him with those dark eyes. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

“Laila!” he cried out, now running to Keeley’s side and landing on his knees next to her hip.

“By the gods,” his sister gasped behind him. She crouched on Keeley’s other side, moved the blacksmith’s knees, and they both froze at the sight of the knife handle sticking out of her stomach and the blood that poured over her hands. “I’ll get help,” Laila said before she ran off yelling for assistance of the witches.

Caid was afraid to touch Keeley. Afraid to take out the knife. Afraid it would kill her instantly. For once, he didn’t know what to do.

A few seconds after his sister had run out, her voice still demanding help, Gemma ran into the chamber with Keran right behind her.

“Holy fuck,” Keran barked out. “What the fuck happened?”

Caid shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Where’s Beatrix? Caid!” He looked at Gemma. “Where is Beatrix?”

“I don’t know,” he said again. “I saw her leave, I think.”

“Was she being dragged? Was someone with her?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Gemma gazed into his eyes but before she could ask anything else, the witches rushed into the chamber and pushed Caid and the others away so they had access to Keeley.

As Caid went to get up, Keeley’s blood-covered hand grasped his and he saw the panic in her eyes; watched tears slide down her face and into her hair.

“Centaur, move!” a witch ordered him. “Move!”

Their hands were pulled apart and Caid was pushed across the room by firm, confident hands.

“Please, my lord centaur, let us care for her.”

Laila took him by the arm, dragged him into the passageway. Gemma came out a few moments later, rushing past the witches hurrying in.

“Samuel!” she called out, motioning to her squire.

“What’s happened?” the boy asked, confused by all the witches moving in a panic. He seemed to be spinning in circles as he came down the passageway, trying to see why all the witches were running around him. “Keeley’s horse was going mad in the throne room and then she just took off! Now everyone is running. But no one will tell me anything.”

When he was close enough to hear her without screaming, Gemma ordered, “Find Beatrix.”

“What? She’s with you, isn’t she?” His eyes widened. “Gods, was she kidnapped?”

“I don’t know. Just find her.” Samuel started to go, but Gemma pulled him back. “If she’s alone when you find her . . . follow her. Don’t let her see you, though. Stay in the shadows.”

“I don’t understand. Why would she be alone? Why would you want me to—” He glanced into the chamber. It took him a moment, but when he realized that it was Keeley on the floor, bleeding, he started to run toward her. But Gemma quickly pulled him back.

“Go! Find Beatrix. She went—” Gemma looked at Caid over her shoulder.

He pointed toward the passage where he’d seen her cape disappear.

“And bring her back, yes?” Samuel asked.

“No. Just find out where she’s going if she’s alone.”

“If she’s alone—”

“Go, Samuel! Please.”

The boy ran and Keran called to Gemma. “We’re moving her!”

Caid pulled away from his sister and stalked back into the chamber.

“I’ll take her,” he said, crouching down beside Keeley.

“Someone should hold her legs,” a witch said. “We’re taking her to the healing chamber.”

Laila held Keeley’s legs and nodded at Caid.

Together, brother and sister lifted the blacksmith and followed the witches deeper into the mountainside.

* * *

After about ten minutes, the passageway Beatrix had taken split into two opposite directions and Samuel had no idea which way to go. He did not want to return to Gemma and tell her he’d lost her sister. Especially if she’d been taken by the Devourer or one of his minions.

As he stood in the middle of the two passageways, looking back and forth, he saw Keeley’s horse coming out of the left tunnel, running up to him.

Samuel reared back. The horse had already tried to pound him into the ground with her front hooves more than once since they’d started this trip. And he had no desire to be found by Gemma as nothing more than a pulpy residue left on the cave floor.

But the horse didn’t attack. She stopped, and when Samuel moved forward a bit, she backed up. By the third time, he understood she wanted him to follow, so he did. Running after her as she galloped down passageways and tunnels and through empty but—thankfully—lit chambers. They traveled