Page 13 of Blood Beneath the Snow (Blood & Souls Duology #1)

13

Thousands of needles punctured my skin.

My mouth was frozen shut, making releasing a string of curses impossible. A whimper escaped me, and I scowled. The godforsaken princess didn’t whimper .

I opened my eyes, only to be blinded, so I slammed them shut again. Every part of me ached.

Memory of my last moments of consciousness came flooding back, and shock pulled my jaw open. “Why aren’t I dead?”

I opened my eyes again and put a frigid hand over my mouth. The sound that had emerged was not my own voice. It sounded like it belonged to a creature from someone’s nightmares.

When my eyes finally adjusted, I saw the tall figure in black moving around the room. “That would be my fault,” the Hellbringer confirmed. “Did you think you weren’t being followed?”

There was no anger left in me, only cold. And resignation. I swallowed, trying to wet my dry throat, but only succeeded in launching myself into a fit of coughing that made my lungs hurt.

The Hellbringer came over to me and held out my gloves. Reluctant as I was to accept his favors, he’d put them by the fire, so they were warm. I pulled them on and then took the mug he offered me, filled with steaming-hot tea.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“You’re an idiot,” he replied. “And I should have let you die.”

I scowled. “Why didn’t you? I’d rather be dead than used as a bargaining chip.” The first sip of tea burned my lips, but I forced myself to swallow it. I felt it travel all the way down my throat.

The Hellbringer sat at the table and gazed at the fire for several minutes while I continued to sip the tea. Soon enough, the pins and needles began to fade from my skin and I sighed, grateful to be warm again.

Finally he spoke. “We made a bargain,” he said. “And you fulfilled your end of the deal. So now I’ll tell you why you’re here.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and set the mug on the bed next to me.

“I told you my queen is looking to secure a truce,” he began. “This is true. But she does not want to broach the matter with your father. That would be a fool’s errand. Instead, she hopes to sign a treaty with you.”

It startled me enough that I sat up. “With me ?” I frowned. “For that to work, I would have to be…”

He nodded curtly. “Queen of Bhorglid. Yes.”

Everything came to a standstill. “You want to instate me as queen,” I breathed. “You’re training me to win the Trials.” I stared at him, mind blank. “I don’t understand. She could find a more powerful ally with one of my brothers. Frode, or Jac. They’re godtouched, but they want to end the war, too. It doesn’t make sense to choose me.”

He shrugged, staring at the flickering flames. “You’re right,” he said. “And I told her as much. But she refused to listen. She has her heart set on you.”

Set…on me? A godforsaken? I frowned. “This doesn’t make sense.”

Finally he glanced over. “I of all people should know. The best course of action would be ending the war by taking Bhorglid and installing me on that throne. It accomplishes the same purpose of forming an alliance, and at least I’d have earned the position. But instead she insists it be you.”

My heart skipped a beat. The Hellbringer was jealous of me . “Why wouldn’t she give it to you?”

He slammed his fists on the table. I flinched back. “I don’t know !” His voice was twisted with distortion.

I stared at him, heart pounding, wondering if I should flee into the maze of halls. Who knew what the Hellbringer would do when he was angry? All he had to do was think about killing me and I would be dead. That part was terrifying enough. But imagining his gloved hands around my throat?

I shivered, and not from the cold.

He stood to pace, and I pulled the blanket up to my shoulders. The smaller I appeared, the better. But curiosity burned at my lips, and I spoke, though every instinct screamed at me not to.

“Why do you want to be king? And in Bhorglid of all places?”

He didn’t answer, merely paced in silence for a long time. My eyes traced his path back and forth in front of the fireplace.

Seemed I wasn’t getting an answer to that question. “Is this why you were following me?” I asked. His head snapped around to face me. “In Bhorglid?” He was silent for a moment, so I pressed on. “You could have taken me then. Why did you wait until now?”

He shrugged. “The queen expected you to make your way into the Trials, but she couldn’t be entirely sure. She asked me to wait until you were in the competition for certain before approaching you. Until then, my orders were to observe. Nothing more.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “At any point, did it cross your mind that it would have been far more effective to spy on me without your whole”—I made a sweeping gesture to encompass him from head to toe—“costume?”

He growled, and with the voice distortion it was a menacing sound. But I refused to shrink back. I was determined to get answers. One answer in particular.

Why would the Queen of Kryllian want me to win the throne?

The question danced in front of me as if to taunt me. I couldn’t begin to imagine the queen’s motives. I’d never learned anything about her, much less met her. My father openly hated her, which only guaranteed the things he’d said about her in passing probably weren’t true. The Hellbringer seemed reluctant to elaborate on the queen’s specific plans for me, but perhaps with time he would tell me more.

More importantly, the Hellbringer had unknowingly confirmed what he told me earlier: he wasn’t going to kill me. At least, he wasn’t supposed to kill me.

It didn’t mean I trusted him, though. My desire to escape wasn’t waning, despite his admission of a bigger plan. Ending the war would be a good thing, but did I really need the help of our most notorious adversary in order to do it? Was peace worth becoming a pawn in another ruler’s hand when the Trials were over?

“What about when you’re done training me?” I asked. “How do you plan to return me to Bhorglid without getting caught?”

His pacing slowed while he replied. “I will leave you with your family before they return home.”

My face twisted into an expression of distaste. “Father will be mad you didn’t kill me.”

The Hellbringer paused, glancing at me, before continuing his steady march. “Why would he want you dead?”

I lay back and propped my hands behind my head. “The better question is: Why wouldn’t he want me dead? That one has a shorter answer.”

Before I could continue, there was a loud pop and a cloaked Kryllian soldier appeared in front of the Hellbringer. I started, sitting up and pulling my sword closer to me.

I frowned at the weapon. I hadn’t noticed my captor had left it there, easily within my grasp. My jaw tightened when I realized he didn’t see me as a threat.

“Her Highness requests your presence,” a feminine voice said from beneath the hood of the cloak. Her features were well hidden.

This must be the same soldier who had transported us here from the forest.

The Hellbringer’s fist clenched, and I wondered for a moment if he would hit her. I cringed, waiting for the blow to come, but then he relaxed.

“Very well.” He turned to me. “If you wander and get lost again, I may not be back in time to find you before you freeze.”

I opened my mouth, a fiery retort on my tongue, but he extended his arm to the soldier, and they disappeared in a blink.

“Well…”

My voice trailed off. I looked around the space, slowly taking in everything I could see. The fireplace on my left; the entrance to the rest of the prison directly in front of me, nothing more than a spot of darkness against the flickering lanterns; to the right, the table with its two chairs and the wall shelves.

He was gone.

I glanced toward the room’s exit and pondered whether to try the maze of hallways again. It didn’t appear to be a promising endeavor. Either the Hellbringer was telling the truth and there honestly wasn’t an accessible exit, or the winding interior was so convoluted, he didn’t think I’d ever find my way out.

I sighed. My limbs were weak from my earlier attempt. Trying again would kill me.

My stomach gurgled and I realized how hungry I was. When was the last time I had eaten? Had I been here for a whole day?

With no captor to keep a watchful eye on me, I got up from the bed to explore the shelves of containers. Maybe one of them would have something familiar I could snack on.

When I put all of my weight on my knees, they buckled without warning, sending me to the ground. I groaned, my head and wrists throbbing where they had connected with solid rock. “Stupid knees,” I muttered. I forced myself to rise again, keeping a hand on the bed, and was able to support my own weight this time, albeit shakily.

“You can do this,” I said through gritted teeth. Several steps later, with a hand on the wall supporting me, I was close enough to pull one of the chairs toward me and sit.

I’d barely moved six feet, and yet my breath was ragged. I groaned. Where was Waddell when I needed him? The sad truth was I couldn’t determine whether my inability to stand came from my earlier excursion or from hunger.

Keep going. I pushed myself up and grabbed as many jars as I could, placing them all on the table. When only four or five remained on the shelf, I sat back down, unable to support my own weight any longer.

These would do for now. I opened each one, looking for something I recognized. Each was filled with a different food: dried fruit slices, berries, nuts, seeds, oats. Nothing incredibly filling and nothing familiar, but it would have to be enough.

When the jars were empty and my hunger satiated, my energy had returned enough to look around the rest of the room. While the Hellbringer was gone, I could do some snooping. Maybe there were tools hidden somewhere. I still needed to pick the lock on the door I’d found while wandering earlier.

The space between the entrance and the furniture—where we had sparred that morning—was huge and empty. I turned my focus to the small armoire next to the bed.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I flung the doors open, sword in one hand at the ready. I lowered my weapon when extra cloaks on hangers, folded shirts and pants, an extra pair of boots, and another warm blanket came into view.

Boring. I clicked my tongue. Not even a weapon to toy with. I closed the doors and peered under the bed.

A box. My arm was barely long enough for my fingers to graze it and pull it out, but I managed. Surely there was something incriminating in here: a severed body part or a bloody knife.

I threw the lid open to find pots and pans.

With a groan, I slid the box back underneath the bed.

Then I considered the bed itself.

I tilted my head and stared. It was a bigger bed than the one I had at home, taking up several feet with its width. Only one blanket and two pillows sat atop it—nothing extravagant. Yet the bed frame itself was dark, beautiful wood. When I glanced at the bedposts, I noticed they were carved with different designs.

Sitting up, I scooted over to the nearest one. It was adorned with a delicate carving of the seaside, a sunrise peeking over the horizon. The others were slightly familiar: a forest of pines, falling snow, a mountain range. They’d clearly been done by a careful hand, the scenes filled with a sentimentality I hadn’t expected to find in a prison.

For the first time, I found myself wondering if he always lived here. Did he sleep separately from his legion? Or was this place only for prisoners?

No. It was too nice to be used for just prisoners. And the carvings were too sentimental to be left behind. These had to be his living quarters.

But…if I was the one being held captive, why did he allow me to sleep on the bed?

It didn’t take long to go through everything in the room. The space was big but mostly empty, filled only with necessities. No incriminating secrets or interesting things for me to bother the Hellbringer about when he returned. Only more questions and no answers.

I sighed and fell back onto the bed. It was going to be a long day.

“Finally!” I shouted when the Hellbringer returned. “It’s been hours . I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

The teleporting soldier vanished as quickly as she had appeared, not sparing me a glance as she left my captor there. The hideous mask turned to face me, and I tried to keep my face blank. There was something about the carvings in the wood—the teeth and the hollow eye sockets—that made me squirm.

“You could have been practicing.” The dark voice was calmer than it had been when he left, and I relaxed. I hadn’t known what kind of mood the Hellbringer would offer when he returned. So far, his anger hadn’t scared me, but only because I wasn’t afraid of death. Now knowing he couldn’t kill me, I feared other forms of torture awaited me.

“I could barely stand for several hours,” I pointed out.

He shrugged and caught sight of the table, strewn with the now-empty jars. “Hungry?” he asked.

Was there a hint of sarcasm in his voice? I tried not to turn red. “Clearly.”

“Good. I brought dinner.” He pulled a package wrapped in papery canvas out from beneath his cloak. Wet spots soaked the wrapping, obviously not made by water. He strode over to the bed and kicked out the box I’d been rummaging through earlier to grab a heavy cast iron skillet and set it in the fireplace, on a metal shelf I hadn’t noticed until then.

He peeled off his black gloves to unwrap two bright red steaks, which he tossed onto the pan. They sizzled and my stomach growled at the scent. When he wiped his hands on a cloth, I noticed his palm bore the wounds from where he had grabbed my sword. Had he not seen a Healer?

I curled my legs underneath me on the bed. “I have to say, I’m glad we aren’t going to be eating nuts and berries the entire time I’m here.”

The Hellbringer didn’t respond, simply replaced his gloves with a pair from the armoire and grabbed some spices from the shelves, seasoning the meat profusely.

You’re a prisoner, I reminded myself. Not a guest or a friend. Not even an acquaintance.

I savored every bite of the meal when it was ready. Steak was a rarity in Bhorglid, with cows being such a precious commodity. The last time I’d eaten steak had been almost ten years ago, for Erik’s eighteenth birthday. I dreamed about it frequently.

When I finished my meal, the Hellbringer stood. “Take your weapon,” he ordered. “We keep training.”

I did as he asked. “How long is this whole training program supposed to be?” I stood in the ready stance, immediately on guard.

He sighed, dropped his own stance, and came over to adjust my feet again. “If it were up to me,” he said as his warm hands moved my boots and legs, “you would already be gone.”

Sleep evaded me. The Hellbringer and I had trained in near silence for the rest of the evening, speaking only when he needed to adjust my form or instruct me to swing differently. I had the feeling my time in captivity was going to be long, arduous, and lonely.

No matter. I was used to being ignored at home. This should be no different.

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about my captor?

Reaching a hand beneath my pillow, I rubbed my thumb against the crowbar I’d discovered when I searched the room earlier. The closest thing to a lockpick. It would have to do. Next time I had the chance to wander, I’d make my way back to the locked door and try to get out that way. If my limited sense of direction was correct, the door wasn’t too far from this room.

My mind conjured an image of being caught breaking out—of being brought back here and tied to a chair, tortured in some nameless way that left me screaming.

I rolled over in the bed, now facing away from the Hellbringer, and pushed the thought away.

There. If I couldn’t see him, that would help.

The events of the day simmered in my mind: Kryllian royalty helping me succeed to the throne of Bhorglid. I’d tried to find a loophole, hoping to discover the trick proving it was a trap, but I couldn’t. At least, not yet.

The Queen of Kryllian wanted to help me win the Bloodshed Trials. All because she wanted me on the throne so we could negotiate a truce. It was too good to be true.

I didn’t know anything about Kryllian politics. Did they want to end the war? Or did she believe by putting a godforsaken ruler in place, she would be able to conquer Bhorglid more easily?

I wouldn’t become a pawn for a power-hungry ruler again.

Stuck here, investigating the queen’s true motives was impossible. I had no clue what things were like in Kryllian. My father’s judgments couldn’t be trusted and the Hellbringer wasn’t exactly unbiased.

If she was so desperate for me to win the Trials, why did the Hellbringer have to be the one who trained me? Surely she had dozens of soldiers good enough. And instead of sending a capable one, she sent one who was utterly deadly.

And incredibly irritating.

Could he teach me to be anything but a murderer? Or was this going to turn me into a monster, too?

I did believe one thing he said, though—he was not going to kill me. He’d had the chance plenty of times and yet here I was. Why would he have waited this long if the plan was to murder me?

I glanced at where he sat next to the fire, his back against the wall, head tilted down. Was he asleep? Or was he watching me look him over?

Our game of cat and mouse, captor and captive, was merely a tug-of-war with a thread of power. Not magic, no—control.

My eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion sank its claws deep. I knew, as dread mounted within me, that the next five weeks until the Trials began were going to be utter hell.