do so. The traders wouldn’t have been foolish enough to tie him next to her, which meant he was most likely tied to some other sturdy tree.
She opened her eyes a slit. The traders were standing there in the middle of the glade, warming their hands against a fire and speaking in a language she didn’t understand. They didn’t have blades in their hands, which meant they had obviously secured Ruith as well if they were that at ease. She looked around her as unobtrusively as possible, fully expecting to see Ruith trussed up securely across the glade.
But he wasn’t.
She forced herself to breathe evenly in spite of her rising panic. There was no reason to assume anything untoward had happened to him. Just because she couldn’t see him didn’t mean he was dead. He might have been picketed with the horses, or deemed to be too heavy a burden and left behind. There were a myriad of things that could have befallen him.
Things he could easily have countered.
That thought was a brisk slap. The truth was, he had lied to her, led her to places she never would have gone even in her nightmares ... and he had continued to lie to her and take her to horrible places until they’d wound up in the worst place of all where he’d only admitted who he was because he hadn’t had a choice. What made all of it so galling was that at any time, he could have stopped it. He, the son of an elven princess and a mage full of untold power, could have saved her grief, fear, and danger if he’d simply been willing to use his magic.
Which he hadn’t been.
She turned away from any concern she might have felt for him. He would save himself, if saving could be done, but he would do nothing for her. That much was obvious, given where she found herself. All she could do was get herself free, then take herself somewhere safe. She would then lock the door and hide in obscurity where she would no longer have to fear the dark or peer into shadows and worry they were full of things they shouldn’t have been—
Things such as the mage standing suddenly in the clearing in front of her.
He was one of Ruith’s bastard brothers from Ceangail. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been part of a circle that surrounded her and Ruith, a circle of men connected by spells that had dripped with evil. He hadn’t said anything in the keep, but she had noted his black, soulless eyes, eyes that had looked at Ruith mercilessly. He was simply watching the traders as he had Ruith, as if they were insects he would allow to scuttle about for a few minutes more before he crushed them carelessly under his boot.
She wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, watching. Apparently her escorts hadn’t noticed him before either, but they noticed him presently. They whirled around suddenly with their swords drawn.
Sarah would have told them not to bother, but she thought her strength might be better spent seeing if she couldn’t get her hands free before she became the center of attention.
The first of the four traders threw himself suddenly forward. Ruith’s half brother didn’t move, but the man stopped suddenly and dropped to the ground, as lifeless as his sword. The mage then turned and looked at her. Sarah felt her mouth go dry.
Damnation. Too late for escape.
He lifted his finger and her bonds fell away. “You won’t be needing those any longer,” he said in a soft voice that was all the more unpleasant for its lack of malice.
Sarah was pulled to her feet, but not by any hands she could see. It was only as she was standing there, swaying with dizziness, that she realized how badly her right forearm pained her. She looked down at the black streaks that trailed over her flesh, black mingled with red that burned like hellfire. She didn’t want to think about where she’d come by that wound, so she instead looked up. Ruith’s half brother was still watching her.
“I will take care of you later,” he said.
She imagined he would. And she imagined she would be able to do about it what she was always able to do about magic and its vile practitioners, which was exactly nothing. She was tempted to turn and bolt, but she had the feeling that would end badly for her. All