Page 24

He was a little afraid of her, she could see it in the way he held himself, even though he was head and shoulders taller.

He moved back as she pushed herself to her feet, and her knees buckled, tipping her forward.

He swore and stumbled back, almost falling down the steps.

She stayed on her knees, head bowed, and dry heaved a few times.

She couldn’t think clearly, but she knew she was not well.

It frightened her, how not well she felt.

“Don’t throw up in here. I don’t want to clean it.”

She vaguely heard anger in his voice, and she thought it was because he felt foolish, jumping back as if she was going to attack him when she couldn’t even stand.

He stepped back inside, reaching up to set the magical rope on a shelf and taking another rope down.

“Lift your arms.”

She did as he asked, deciding it would do her no good to defy him now, when she was so weak, and she really wanted to go outside.

The rope was already looped at one end, and he tugged it over her hands, down her arms and to her waist, tightening it so that it was snug as a belt.

It wasn’t magical. It was just a normal rope.

The relief of that choked her and made it hard to breathe.

The man jumped down to the ground, and she followed slowly, taking the steps, to find he had pulled the cart off the road, between the trees on the bank of a river.

The Bartolo?

They would have to cross the Bartolo if they continued north, and if they’d been traveling all night, then this could well be it.

She bent over, catching her breath, and looked around to see if there was a second person.

It had taken at least two people to capture her. One to lure her into the alley, the other to throw the net.

But it looked as if the driver was alone.

“If there’s even the smallest tug on the rope, I’ll drag you back to me and cut you.” He spoke without any heat, and she believed him all the more because of it. “I need to get you to someone as fast as possible, and I can’t have you causing me any delays. If I have to hurt you to keep you obeying me, I will.”

“Can I have my clothes?” she asked him as she followed him to a small stand of trees to the left, her legs still feeling weak and shaky.

He turned and gave her a sour look. “I was told to destroy every stitch of your clothing. I threw it all into the sea. You’re lucky to have on what you’ve got.”

What she had on was a rough cotton shift that looked like it had been cut from a sack.

“Did you make the spoon and the fork?” she asked as he herded her amongst the trees. She wanted to know if he was a spell caster, or just someone sent to fetch her who’d been given access to the weapons he had so far used.

He grunted, neither confirming or denying. “Go around that tree. Don’t try anything or—”

“Or you’ll cut me.”

He flashed her a look. Grunted again. “Be quick. We have to move.”

She moved around the trunk, out of his sight, and wondered how she was going to get herself free.

Luc wasn’t coming for her. He wouldn’t even know she was missing.