Sister of the Dead - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,115

girl's eyes were open. Her jaw slacked around the gag. Her throat was a torn and mangled mess, and blood had run across her face and soaked into her loose dress. Her heart beat twice and stopped.

Welstiel looked down at himself. His shirt was soaked with blood. His heightened sense of smell took in its coppery scent amid the stench of his own wastes. He dropped the corpse and rolled away to huddle on the floor by the bed.

"What have you done to me?" he cried.

But Welstiel knew the answer. There would be no return to light and life. Nothing in his arcane arts could ever rectify this.

"How could you?" he whispered.

Ubad glided to Welstiel's desk and poured fresh water into a basin. He picked up clean towels and came to Welstiel.

"Remove those clothes and clean yourself. Your father needs you. "

"Get away from me. Both of you. "

"Do as he says, " Bryen ordered. "Your bride is waiting. "

* * *

Chapter 14

W inter was not far off, and dense muck upon the roads made the journey to Apudalsat longer than expected. Or so it seemed.

The first time Wynn insisted upon taking her turn at the reins, Leesil was surprised, and Magiere was openly concerned. Did they think her so helpless that she couldn't drive a team of gentle, well-trained horses?

"I'm not so sure—, " Leesil started.

"I have spent more time with horses than you have. " Wynn cut him off. "And with far less complaint about them. "

Leesil scowled at her and crawled into the wagon's back to give her room to come forward. Wynn climbed onto the wagon's bench,, taking the reins Magiere held out. When Magiere stayed upon the seat beside her, Wynn shot her a glare..

"I will be fine, " she said in an overly polite tone. "You should take some rest, as well. "

"I'm not tired, " Magiere answered, eyes ahead on the road.

She had barely spoken those words when Wynn jumped as Leesil wrapped his arms around Magiere's waist.

"Hey!" Magiere snapped, but it was too late.

Leesil heaved, and Wynn ducked aside as Magiere tumbled backward into the wagon's bed.

"Leesil, dammit!" Magiere snarled. "What do you think—?"

That was all she said, and Wynn did not look back to see how Leesil had silenced her. Leesil's mood, if not Magiere's, had oddly improved since the morning they left K£onsk.

Chap scrambled up on the bench beside Wynn and settled there with a low grumble.

Aside from this one moment, their passage was peaceful, though the nights grew colder and the roads more troublesome as they reached the marshy region of eastern Droevinka. They pressed on for several days, sometimes starting before dawn and not stopping until well after dusk.

Like Leesil's, Chap's demeanor had altered. He was not his old self, begging or grouching about meals, but he had become more compliant. No longer growling each time Magiere mentioned their journey's purpose, he remained silent. Wynn was uncertain what disturbed her more, his change of attitude or his constant watchfulness as he gazed all day into the thickening wilderness. She often tried to discern what he watched at any particular moment. She saw little, hearing only croaking frogs, an occasional plop of something surfacing in a pond or marsh, or the far-off screech of a bird. The stench of a bog assaulted her nose now and again.

Near dusk on the seventh day, Leesil was at the reins when he pointed ahead.

At first, Wynn could not spot what he wanted them to see. Against the gray-white clouds, the distant skyline was only just visible through trees along the open road stretched out before them. Far ahead was a dark knob like the jut of a barren rock mesa, its top peeking above the trees on a tall hill. Wynn recognized it as the crest of a keep.

Magiere's eyes followed to where Leesil pointed.

Sympathy wrestled with wariness in Wynn when she saw Magiere's anxious expression. Each piece of Magiere's past found so far promised the next to be darker still. It was not long before they crossed a stone-and-timber bridge spanning another of the many sluggish streams.

The water was clogged with dead branches and masses of sprouting reeds, and the road beyond climbed a large rise in the land. Down a short side path to the right were the remnants of an empty village. Thatch or timber roofs were pocked with holes or had collapsed entirely. A small stable at the village's near end had a broken fence. Cottage doors were