Daughters of Ruin - K. D. Castner Page 0,51

an arcing path toward Findain. They let the horses plod, but Iren wouldn’t allow them to stop. Under different circumstances, it would have been an ideal country stroll. The birds had been uncaged recently from their winter nests and sang ballads to one another. The road wended through the hillocks of the midlands between Meridan and Findain—tree-covered hills, mild enough to farm, if the sanctions allowed.

Copses of trees dotted the hillside and a series of rivers streaked it.

It was midmorning. The sun shone and gave Cadis renewed hope that they would reach Findain—she would see Jesper and her cousin Denarius again—and the horrors of the previous night would recede, like a treacherous coastline from memory, as they sailed onward. If only they managed the long journey without getting captured.

“Do you think Don Sprolio has patrols in the area?” asked Cadis.

“No,” said Iren.

“How do you know?” said Cadis. “A couple enterprising scouts could be over that hill, waiting to ambush.”

“Sprolio brought his sons to the Revels,” said Iren.

Cadis had been avoiding mention of the Revels.

“Were they handsome?” said Cadis.

“Not with soiled breeches and cut throats, no.”

Cadis sighed. Iren had rebuffed every attempt at idle distraction, as if she had been constantly revisiting the events of the night—examining them like a dead bird—to expose the intricacy of their inner workings.

Cadis was no more interested in the Sprolio boys than Iren was. But she knew the value of a little chatter to pass the time, to examine shared experiences. “Fine,” said Cadis, “be sour. I’ll sing to myself.”

“Don’t sing.”

“It’s an expression. I wasn’t actually going to sing.”

Iren took a flitting glance over her shoulder as they crested a hill. “We’re being followed,” she said.

Cadis immediately hunched down in her seat. She acted as if she were pulling a stone from her boot as she looked behind them, but they were on the downward slope of the hill. Cadis waited and was rewarded some minutes later, when a lone figure rode into view. She was too far away for Cadis to learn much.

“Stop looking,” said Iren.

“How do you know she’s following us?”

“When we stopped at the last creek, she stopped so she wouldn’t pass us.”

“I knew it was suspicious that you wanted to pause for a drink.”

“The horses were thirsty as well.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the Iren I’m beginning to know,” said Cadis, hoping she’d take the barb in jest.

“I was also resting for you.”

Cadis acted shocked by the insult but smiled through it. Iren betrayed the slightest smirk. “You don’t need to worry about me, sweet sister,” said Cadis.

“You took such a beating,” said Iren. “I thought you could use some time.”

Cadis gasped. “Are you referring to the black eye?”

“And split lip.”

“And split lip that I got before besting you completely?”

“A technical victory.”

Iren knew Cadis prized panache and style as much as technical victories. “All right, then,” said Cadis, enjoying a bit of conversation for the first time that morning. “If that’s how you want it.”

Under her breath, Iren said, “Ready your bow.”

Cadis did so by bending forward to pet her horse on the neck. She reached back and pulled her bow from her pack and placed it on her lap.

“And what about the ball?”

“Did you do something interesting at the ball?” said Iren.

She goaded her horse into a quick trot.

Cadis followed. Iren continued. “You must have said some very clever things to keep the attention of all those boys.”

“Do you have sociability lessons for me?” said Cadis.

“Not really,” said Iren. “Maybe daub some powder on those bruises.”

“Thank you, Governess.”

“And the dress—”

“You said you liked my dress!”

“I lied,” said Iren.

“I think you’re lying now,” said Cadis. “Don’t be mean to my dress.”

“I thought I saw one of the courtesans from Endrit’s alley wearing one half as tight . . . and twice as long.”

“Ha!” said Cadis. “Maybe she had less to be proud of. Besides, you wore that weird two-piece thing.”

Iren shrugged.

“And I saved your life,” said Cadis.

“Then we’re even, since I spared yours in the melee.”

“What? You did not let me win. Say you didn’t let me win.”

They pressed the horses until they passed a dense grouping of myrtles. Iren turned abruptly behind the trees and stopped. She jumped off her horse and ran up to a tree trunk. Cadis followed, pulling an arrow from her quiver as she hid.

They watched and waited as the figure of the lone rider grew closer and closer. She hadn’t seen them stop.

Cadis whispered, even though she didn’t yet need to whisper. “Do you think Hiram