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“I beg to differ. That I’m to deliver you there makes it mine as well.”

  She wasn’t certain she wanted to go with him any longer. “Stop pointing that knife at me and I might tell you.” Not that she would betray Mam’s secret by giving the whole truth when a part would do.

  “All right.” He lowered the blade.

  “I’d rather keep my own counsel, but since you insist on knowing…” She let the silence stretch to breaking before going on. “I’m half-Kindren.”

  “That…changes things.” He turned the blade and offered it by its hilt.

  Mara stared at the knife, struck dumb by surprise.

  He gestured with his head. “Go on. Take it. But remember I can relieve you of it again, if called upon.”

  “Point taken.” She slipped the knife into her boot.

  “You’ve skill with a knife.” He crossed his arms. “But why did you feel in need of one just then?”

  She settled on the truth, or at least part of it. “I’ve never liked this place.”

  He leaned against the wall again. “Might I expect an attack whenever your surroundings displease you?”

  “All right, you frightened me.”

  Whatever he had expected her to say, it must not have been that. The surprise on his face showed even in the feeble light. “You have nothing to fear from me, as it happens.”

  What did that mean? And why did he speak with such irony? It made no sense, but somehow, she believed him. He’d given her back her knife, after all. “Well, then. You’re hired.” She drew the velvet pouch from her cloak and tossed it to him.

  He caught it with one hand and upended it into his palm. He gave a low whistle. “How does an innkeeper’s daughter come by such a treasure?” He held up the band, and its star sapphire glistened in the moonlight.

  “Honestly, of course.” She made no other reply. She would trust him no further than necessary.

  5

  AFTER THE STORM

  The storm passed, but another kind of tumult raged within Rand at the sight of Mara, her damp hair bound in dark braids that fell to her waist as she fed apples to the horses in the soft early light. Last night she had faced him at the point of a knife, utterly beautiful in her defiance. When he’d trapped her in his arms, he hadn’t expected the desire to keep her safe that sprang within him. Nor had he anticipated the strange sensation that a knife thrust into her side would pierce his own. He’d told her the simple truth when he’d said she had nothing to fear from him.

  After she’d mentioned having Kindren blood, her longing to reach Torindan had made better sense. The pull between them that he’d attributed to witchcraft could have been caused by the shil shael, the hereditary soul touch he’d only just begun to experience as a son of Rivenn. If so, this meant Mara was his distant kin. Did his father know this?

  He saddled the horses, his mind occupied with the problem of what to do with Mara now. She wanted him to deliver her to Torindan, but as the son of Elcon’s mortal enemy, he could not approach the high hold of Faeraven and live. He dared not remain away from Pilaer much longer, for his mother’s sake. She would bear the brunt of his father’s wrath if he failed to return. Rand frowned at the unhappy consequences that returning with his errand unfulfilled would bring down on him. Accepting his father’s displeasure, Draeg’s scorn, and whatever punishment came seemed the lesser of two evils. He would rather lose his own life than take Mara’s. She glanced up looking startled, for all the world as if she’d heard his thought. He jerked his gaze away. “We should set out.”

  “Aye.”

  On her lips the word sounded infinitely sad. He didn’t inquire again into her reasons for leaving home. She’d made it clear they were her own. She lifted into her horse’s saddle before he could offer his help. How serene she looked, but her thoughts must be in turmoil. He vaulted onto Taelant’s back and rode through the breach ahead of Mara. They traveled eastward in the mud and fitful daylight, on a road broad enough to allow him to ride alongside her. His attention kept straying sideways. The curve of her cheek, sweep of her eyelashes, and even her hands, gentle on the reins, attracted his notice. A curious sensation of joy assailed him at the simple sight.

  At the old ford they crossed the stone bridge with the horse’s hooves ringing. They passed into a tunnel formed by kaba branches tangling into a green roof, and the forest swallowed them. The day warmed, and even in the weaving shadow beneath the trees, their damp garments steamed. The way narrowed, becoming a rutted track. This did not slow them for they met no other travelers, not surprising since it was too early in spring to cross the passes. The road climbed, turning the river into a gleaming silver ribbon below.

  They stopped for the night in a meadow with enough daylight for Rand to draw his bow and fell a deer. He dressed it, cutting part of the meat into strips to smoke over the fire. They roasted chunks of venison on sticks while the horses grazed on new grass and drank from a sparkling stream. He ate his fill, but Mara took little. She did not speak, and her eyes shone with tears.

  In the gloaming, that uncertain time between day and night, she unrolled her bedding beside a fallen log and lay down. He placed his own bedroll at a small distance, even though it was too late to save her honor. The Elder held their maidens less closely than the Kindren, but she’d never escape the shame of spending a day and a night unchaperoned, let alone traveling alone with him.

  He could tell that leaving home weighed upon her, and yet she had parted with something of great value to do so. Had she stolen the star sapphire band? It seemed too fine for an innkeeper’s daughter. She’d claimed to have acquired it by honest means, but could she have stolen it from a guest at the inn? He picked up a stick and poked at the fire. It was hard to imagine, but what did he really know about her? She might be hiding a small horde of ill-gotten jewels that could bring pursuers.

  Once she slept, he would search her belongings.

  

  Mara fought to keep her eyes open as the track beneath Lilthe’s hooves angled toward the bleached sky. Here in the lower reaches of the Maegrad Ceid, the air thinned, seeming not quite to fill her lungs, while the air radiated the heat of midday. The horses broke free of the kaba forest, entering an alpine meadow where stunted pines twisted and bellflowers waved above lingering snowbanks.

  Rand reined his horse in and waited for her to catch up, a frown marring his forehead. “Are you unwell?”

  Did he really care about her or was he wondering how much farther he could push her? She drank from her elk skin water bottle before answering. “I need rest.”

  His gaze assessed her. He gave a curt nod. “We’ll stop at the cascade just ahead.”

  She caught the distant splash of water. It seemed so far away, but she made no protest, for the stunted pines and boulders alongside the track offered no shade. Lilthe must have smelled water, for her pace quickened. Her hooves rang against the stones littering the trail and sent some of them clattering over the drop. Dizziness pressed Mara, and she dared not look downward.

  Regret stabbed her. If she’d remained at home, she could have avoided this ordeal. She wouldn’t let herself think about Da and Hael searching for her with Mam worried sick while waiting for news. She’d acted rashly, but it was too late to change anything.

  The track crested a rise and crossed a bridge built of ancient timbers over a plummeting stream. Rand dismounted to lead his horse over the rickety bridge, and Mara did the same. Although Lilthe balked at first, she finally clopped across.

  The road bent in upon itself, ready to climb again, but Rand turned aside onto a trail forged by game. She followed him into a canyon where ferns clung to sheer walls of blushed stone, their fronds waving in the breeze that cooled her face. Water misted the air, a spray sent up by the force of the cascading streams. Over time, the torrent had worn a hollow in an otherwise flat-topped shelf of rock, and the sides of the pool thus formed canted at a reckless angle. The game trail ended at the shallowest edge, farthest from the waterfall, where b
etter footing could be had.

  Lilthe and Rand’s chestnut steed lowered their heads and drank of the frothing water. Mara followed Rand to a ledge behind the cascade, where they both cupped their hands to gather water from the shining streams. Its coolness soothed her parched throat.

  Rand ducked his head beneath one of the streams and came to stand beside her again with a wolfish smile. She surrendered to the urge to stare at the water running in rivulets down his neck, the firmness of his jaw, and the way his tawny hair glistened when wet.

  With a teasing glint in his eyes, he pushed her forward.

  Cold water poured over her, making her gasp, but then she lifted her face and let it cool her. She stepped out of the waterfall refreshed. Rand’s laughter surrounded her, an attractive sound. Forgetting her earlier constraint, she smiled at him.

  His laughter quieted, and he turned back to the horses, now grazing on brambleberries. Rand rummaged in his saddlebag and brought out several small bundles tied in kaba leaves. He tossed her one. Struck by the charm of his smile she almost missed it.

  She sat beside him with her legs dangling over the edge into the pool and gave her attention to the smoked venison her bundle contained. After tearing at the meat like a ravenous pup, she glanced up to find him watching her in amusement. Heat blossomed in her cheeks.

  He chuckled. “It’s good to see you feeding yourself. I wondered if you meant to starve.”

  At the reminder of her earlier upset, she had to blink away tears.

  “Mara, why did you run away?” His soft tone barely rose above the splashing of water, but she heard him.

  “Because I’m lackwitted.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “You hardly know me well enough to form an opinion.”

  “I’m certain you wouldn’t run away without cause.”

  “I didn’t want to marry.” She hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

  “And now you are on your way to Torindan? Something’s missing from your story.”

  She shrugged. “There’s not much else.”

  He touched her arm, and a tingle ran down her spine. “I’ve an idea you’ve left out the important part.”

  She gazed at him, helpless to look away, drowning in emotion. Was this how Hael had felt when he’d looked at her so strangely? If so, he had her pity. Oh, but this made no sense. Why should a stranger stir her when Hael did not? Rohan had said love might grow between them, but if this was indeed that tender emotion, they’d never have found it together. She couldn’t imagine feeling this way about Rohan nor picture him allowing himself to fall prey to this aching restlessness.

  Rand lowered his head, his breath feathering her cheek. His lips brushed hers.

  She quivered, torn between delight and outrage. He shouldn’t do this, nor should she let him. A sigh escaped her.

  Rand deepened the kiss, and the hand she put to his chest to push him away clutched him instead. Rough wool slid across her palms, and her fingers curved into his surcoat, drawing him nearer. A flame flickered to life between them, warming her from within, growing…

  He groaned and pulled away. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Mara pressed the back of her hand against her lips, looking anywhere but at him. The regret on his face made plain that he despised himself for kissing her.

  

  Rand shifted away from Mara. Had he lost all sense? He was not his father or brother, to take all he desired from a maiden. His mother, despite her failings, had taught him better manners. She had never spoken of her own ruin, but he could guess her story. His father had seduced her, playing on her weaknesses until she’d surrendered. Afterwards, she had lacked the will or means to save herself from his ill treatment.

  Rand had promised his mother he would never abase a maiden. He wanted Mara beyond reason but would not take her by force or persuasion and should not have stolen so much as a kiss from her.

  Restraining the impulse to offer his hand to help her rise, he picked up his saddle bag. Touching her presented too much of a temptation. “It’s time to leave.” His voice grated in his own ears, but he didn’t trust his ability to ease her look of pain without losing his head.

  She brushed past him, going at once to Lilthe. From her posture in the saddle, he had offended her. He sighed. There was but one solution he could think of that would protect her purity, but she might never forgive him for what he was about to do.

  

  A dark figure sprang from nowhere, knocking Mara to the ground. She tried to cry out but could barely draw breath. Gritting her teeth, she shoved with all her might. The weight of the monster pinning her shifted, and she gulped in blessed air. Her attacker returned, crushing her with brutal force‒

  Mara bolted upright, bathed in sweat, heart hammering, and peered into the shadows around her. Where had her bed at the inn gone, and how came she to be sleeping in a moonlit meadow? With the return of memory arrived another realization.

  The dream again. ‘Twas only the dream.

  She laid down again, although sleep would not return with the horror lingering. It could haunt her for days. She’d once woken screaming in the dead of night, and Aunt Brynn--Brynn--had afterwards warned Mam that the blackness of her soul called forth evil.

  What if Brynn had been right about her?

  Running away had been wrong, Mara could admit that now. She’d given little thought to the grief that leaving would cause others. No, that wasn’t quite right. The truth stared her in the face, condemning her. She had meant to hurt her parents and make them regret lying to her. A chord of sorrow throbbed within her. If only she could turn time backward and spare them the pain she had wrought.

  Her anger had hurt no one worse than herself. Now she could see that if she’d held her ground, she might have avoided a betrothal to Rohan. Even after discovering the secret Mam and Da had kept from her, she should have given them a chance to explain. Now it was too late. She could never go home, nor would she marry. No one wanted a half-blood, and a ruined one at that. If she ever doubted the truth, she had only to remember Rand’s rejection.

  The sky lightened, blushing at the horizon. The forest remained in darkness, so still it seemed to hold its breath as it listened for the mourning doves to utter their first laments. Mara sat up, clasping her knees for warmth.

  Something moved in the meadow.

  She started but then recognized Lilthe. She scolded herself for giving in to nerves. But wait…where was Rand’s horse? Taelent never strayed far from Lilthe. Mara scanned the meadow.

  The grass was still flattened in the place where Rand had lain. Where was he?

  The question brought her to her feet. Something might have happened to him. She wanted to call out, but a remnant of caution from her dream held her back. A shiver ran over her, and she pulled her cloak from on top of her bedding and settled it over her shoulders. Her hands sought the woolen pockets for warmth, and her fingers closed over a familiar shape. She withdrew her hand and brought out her velvet bag. Although she already knew what it would contain, she opened the bag and tipped out the contents.

  Her hand fisted around the sapphire band Rand had returned to her.

  6

  LOST PASS

  More than anything, Mara wanted to lay her aching body down. Every gasping breath burned her lungs. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes to chill her cheeks. She could barely feel her feet any more but trudged upward, forcing a path through the snow. Her strength deserted her all at once, and she stopped to gather herself, putting up a hand to shield her eyes against the glare. The wind whistled, and heavy clouds swallowed the surrounding peaks.

  With a sinking stomach, she admitted the folly of going on.

  She should have stayed with Lilthe. When the mare had started limping, it had been all Mara could do to turn her loose. Lilthe had tried to follow, and it had broken Mara’s heart to drive her away. Maybe, if she could return below the snow line, Lilthe would hear her call. Mara would build a shelter to
protect them both from freezing to death or becoming food for a jaggercat or a bruin foraging in the lean time before berries clustered in the thickets.

  Rand had left packets of jerked venison in her saddlebag, but she would have to replenish her food supply soon. Da had trained her in forest skills, and she had her horse bow and net, but first she needed to climb down from the pass. She started back, following the tracks she’d made in the snow. They hurtled a long way down. Why had she pushed herself to go so far? She retraced the path made by her footprints, but lost her balance partway down and stepped into soft snow that gave beneath her feet. She went down, flailing, and slid toward the edge of the cliff.

  This then would be her death.

  A rise bumped her upward, knocking the wind from her. She flung out her hands and clawed at whatever they caught—snow and more snow, but also something that lashed her palm. She gripped it now, but her slide continued to the length of her arm and wrenched her shoulder. She jerked to a halt, her feet dangling in thin air.

  Her chest hurt as she panted to breathe. Black dots stood before her eyes. She fought to stay awake and pulled herself to more level ground. The temptation to sleep tugged at her with more force.

  Why not surrender? Life hardly seemed worth living any more…

  “No!” She lurched to her feet with the world spinning. Her legs trembled as she started back down the hillside. Halfway down, her knees betrayed her, and she sank into the snow. After a brief struggle, she fell back, utterly spent, and drew in her breath on a sob. She’d been an utter fool to leave home, but even more so to let pride keep her from returning.

  Now she would die in the wilderness.

  

  The thought of Mara alone in the wilderness almost turned Rand around He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he’d left her. His haste to protect her from his own desire had blinded him to the fact that he should have escorted her home. He reined in, torn over whether or not to turn his horse around but then remembered her skill with a knife and fishing net. She didn’t have far to travel before reaching home. Surely his withdrawal would force her to go back where she belonged. What else could she do? He, on the other hand, had better return to Pilaer. He frowned. Whenever he irritated his father, Mother always suffered. He preferred that any punishment for his actions should fall only on him.