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A ric said nothing further, and I didn’t press. Behind us, the woods echoed with shouts and the ceaseless tolling of the alarm bells. A dog began to bark, and my heart clenched. The sky was brightening now that the sun had cleared the horizon, adding urgency to our flight—the daylight was against us, making it harder to hide.

I knew the arboretum was contained within the castle walls, yet as Aric forged on it seemed endless, a spiraling scape of trees and rain and shadow. Surely we’d seen those same clumps of fir and spruce multiple times.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” I hissed at Aric through chattering teeth.

-Hush. You’ll draw attention.-

“That wasn’t an answer.”

Behind us, a groaning creak of wood. I twisted to look over my shoulder and bit back a gasp. From among the trees—no, from the trees themselves—peered faces with burls for noses and bristling bark eyebrows.

“Aric,” I whispered. “Are the trees… looking at us?”

-I did say you’d draw attention.-

Unnerved, I gripped his mane more tightly. Horses weren’t supposed to talk. Trees weren’t supposed to literally watch you. What had the magic in this country been drinking?

Finally, Aric stopped beside a pair of massive firs that looked older than the castle itself. This time I slid from his back without being prompted. My feet were so cold that hitting the ground was a shock of pain. I swayed, nearly fell, grabbed his mane for balance.

Aric’s flanks rippled in annoyance. He shook me off. - In there. Between those two firs.-

I stared at the trees in puzzlement—they looked no different from any other patch of forest. Then I blinked and looked again. What at first glance seemed like just a darker area of shadow was, on closer inspection, a narrow, derelict building. Half the wood-shingled roof had fallen away, revealing the edifice’s bones. As shelters went, it wasn’t promising.

I looked at Aric skeptically. “Won’t it be obvious we’re hiding out here?”

He shook his head impatiently, tail flicking. - To find this place, you have to have been here first.-

More irregular magic. Just what I needed. “And we’re assuming the assassin hasn’t paid this charming abode a visit before?”

-Only three people alive have been here, including you and me. And the third would never try to kill me.-

I ignored the implication—I hadn’t arranged the assassin, whether he believed me or not. I had only his word that this unknown third party was equally innocent. But I didn’t feel like arguing the point. A light wind had sprung up, driving rain into my face. I was trembling with cold and didn’t fancy being stared at by hostile trees. The hut wouldn’t be comfortable, but at least it was out of the rain.

I started forward. For a moment I felt as if I pushed against a great wind. Then, with a pop like pressure releasing in my ears, the entire building suddenly came into clear focus. My breath hitched. An unsettling magic indeed.

The building’s single wooden door hung askew from its hinges. I shoved it open with both hands and stepped inside cautiously. The scents of damp straw and mildew assailed my nose. Rain poured steadily in where the roof had given way, and elsewhere a chorus of drips plunked out a lugubrious hymn. A cold drop found the back of my neck, and I shivered as it scurried down my spine.

My eyes ran over rows of thin walls fronted by half doors, most nearly rotted away. “Is this… a barn?”

-It was a stable for the realm’s finest mounts before the arboretum grew up. Now it’s a last retreat for the royal family if the castle falls. Move aside before I step on you.-

I stepped out of the way as Aric pushed through the door, muttering again about the rain and mud. The doorway was a tight fit—his sides rubbed off flakes of lichen that had taken the opportunity to bedeck the frame. Inside, he shook himself with a disgruntled shudder, shedding bits of plant matter and mud. I shielded my eyes from the spray.

-Look in the stalls.- His words were curt. Still hostile, but at least we weren’t outright arguing. - There are supplies. Blankets and such.-

“Probably wet and mouse eaten,” I muttered, but I complied.

This place may have housed the realm’s finest mounts once, but now it would be better fit for a troop of toads. The weak morning sunlight revealed that the roof’s collapse had exposed all but two of the stalls to the open sky; most of the building was wet and reeked of mildew and rot. The two surviving stalls were in only marginally better shape. One was stacked with wooden crates; the other held a scattering of moldy straw. At least it was sheltered from the rain.

I wrestled the lid off the nearest crate with difficulty; my fingers had numbed almost to uselessness. I could have cried with relief at what I found inside: the rough weave of heavy woolen fabric. A length of cloth spilled out when I pulled. A blanket.

There were two: thick, coarse—and, thank the seas, warm. I wrapped one around myself like a shawl.

-Give me one of those.-

I flung the second blanket at Aric, hoping it hit him in the face—until he apologized, I was determined to make him wish he had. “Since you asked so kindly. Good luck getting that on without hands.”

Aric huffed in annoyance. Ignoring him, I headed towards the other sheltered stall, eager to lie down somewhere dry.

Only to find Aric blocking my way.

“Move,” I snapped, in no mood to pretend at courtesy. “I need to sit down.”

He flared his nostrils at me, ears twitching. - Find somewhere else. I’m taking this stall.-

I set my jaw. “You’re a horse. Horses stand out in the rain all the time. You don’t need it.”

-I deserve it. Because, as you astutely pointed out, I am indeed a horse, a state which is entirely your fault. Find your own stall.-

My teeth hurt from being gritted so hard. “There’s only one that’s suitable.”

-Another astute observation.-

Drown the man—the horse—whatever he was. I hugged the blanket more tightly around my shoulders as a gust of wind attempted to pry it away.

“Let’s compromise,” I said, exasperated. “We share the stall, and I will put the other blanket on you. Since, as we have both astutely observed, you are a horse.”

Aric considered, his tail flicking irritably.- Fine. But you’d better put it on properly, or I will kick you out.- He blew out a huff of air. - Archives and indices. Couldn’t you have turned me into something with opposable thumbs?-

We wedged ourselves into the narrow stall, as far from each other as humanly—or equinely—possible. I draped the second blanket over Aric’s flanks far more charitably than I felt, then curled into a ball in the far corner and tucked my own around myself. Gradually, my shudders ebbed. Everything hurt, and the straw I sat on smelled strongly of mildew, but at least I wouldn’t freeze to death.

No—actually, everything didn’t hurt. Not as much as it should. My body ached with developing bruises and my legs still stung with cuts from the window. But my hands, where I’d sliced myself on the smashed lantern, hurt only from the cold.

I extracted one of my hands from the blanket and held it towards the light from the collapsed roof. Even in the dimness of a rain-shrouded morning, my skin was unmistakably whole. My wounds were gone. But golden lines crossed my palm like gilt scars, echoing the mark from the wedding ceremony.

A chill swept through me that had nothing to do with the cold.

-Are you hurt? Did the assassin wound you?- Aric sounded hopeful.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ll live.” I tucked my hand back into the blanket. Should I tell him about the marks? Ask him what they meant? For all I knew, they were a sign he’d placed a curse on me.

-Incredible as it may seem to you, I would prefer you remain among the living.-

“Incredible as it may seem to you, I would prefer that you do the same.”

-Naturally. Which is why you sent an assassin into my bedchamber and transformed me into a horse.-

Irritation flared. “I told you, I didn’t send the assassin. And the spell wasn’t meant for you—I was trying to save both of us. None of this is how I anticipated our wedding night unfolding.”

-I’ve yet to grasp how exactly you did expect it to go. After the assassin and the curse, what was the next stage of your plan?-

If only Tatiana’s spell had included a provision of silence. I gritted my teeth. “Also as I told you, I had no plan. My only intention was to fulfill the terms of the treaty. And had I known how insufferably rude you would turn out to be, I would have insisted the Council renegotiate those terms.”

-So you continue to deny orchestrating this marriage in the first place?-

That was thrice he’d said something to that effect, and this time I was in a better state to pay attention to it. I sat up straighter, frowning, to focus on him fully.

“I had nothing at all to do with arranging this marriage. I was selected by the Council of Nine as the most suitable candidate to satisfy your thinly veiled threats of war.”

- My threats? I’ve never threatened Damaria. Your Council was the one making all the demands.-

This made no sense. I’d seen the treaty draft myself, complete with Aric’s seal. “What demands, exactly, do you think the Council has made?”

I could practically picture him ticking them off on his fingers. If he’d still had fingers.

-Expanding the trade agreement. Committing to an annual quota of purchases of Adept technology. Increasing our lumber and iron exports. Agreeing to wed a partner of the Council’s choice before the coronation, without even meeting you first—-

“Wait,” I interrupted. If my head spun any harder, it would roll right off my shoulders. “The Council didn’t demand any of that. I didn’t demand any of that. The insistence on marriage was all from you !”

Aric’s nostrils flared. - Why in the Lady’s name would I insist on marriage?-

My brows rose incredulously. “To make a statement as a new king? To test your power by claiming a tithe from Damaria?”

-You are a woman, not a tithe.- Aric snorted. - And if I wanted a tithe, why would I demand to marry you ?-

I’d just been insulted again, but he didn’t give me room to retaliate. - I’m not even crowned yet. Why would my first move be to aggravate my closest neighbor with a list of demands that could easily spark a war?-

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I could think of counterarguments, but they were all as limp as wet silk.

He was right. Now that I’d heard it from his perspective, forcing the treaty wasn’t a logical move at all. I hardly knew Aric, not yet. But from what I’d seen of him, aside from his personal grudge against me, he didn’t seem like the sort of man eager to start a fight. He had literally hidden behind a book at the welcome ball. Not the sort of action a king bent on war would take.

Yet if he was telling the truth, that left a problem even more salient than Aric’s new form.

“But if neither of us asked for this marriage… who did?”