The horses were still frisky when Vinson’s house came into view. Elia encouraged her mount toward the stables, where a boy—one of the sugarmaker’s sons, she knew, though there were so many of the children that she couldn’t quite keep them straight—hammered a pole against ice in a trough. He paused when he saw them coming.
“Have space for two more?” she called.
The boy nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. “Are you here for Pa? I don’t think—I mean, I can watch them for you, Miss Elia.”
Cass reined his horse up beside her. “Is your father in?”
The boy hesitated, then nodded. “Do I put up the horses? Or do I go get him?”
“Get him. We’ll put up the horses by ourselves.” Cass dismounted easily and started unfastening bags from his saddle while the boy ran off.
Elia watched him go. “Wouldn’t it be more polite to meet him in his home?”
“We should stay on the move. Daylight is scarce this time of year, and it’ll be too cold at night to travel.” He put all his bags under the eaves, where the snow wasn’t so deep, then led his horse toward the stable door.
“I’m beginning to think your goal is to have people in your life for as little time as possible.” She slid off her horse and gave his neck an affectionate pat.
“Took you that long to think it?”
She fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She hadn’t expected gratitude, exactly, but part of her had hoped that her efforts would at least blunt his rough edges. The bags tied to the saddle were heavy and she hesitated after unfastening only one. “Are you sure we can’t take the horses with us? They were given to us for a reason.”
“If I’m leading this expedition, I expect you to be able to deal with my decisions without complaint.” He paused at the door long enough to give her a hard look, then took his horse inside.
Elia sighed.
For all that this had been her idea, she wasn’t certain it was going to work. He was as prickly as a thorn bush, and none of her efforts to slip past the brambles had proven fruitful. There were still things to try, but did she have time? The information the king rooted out on his own indicated the kidnappers should be no more than a few days away. It was precious little time to wring information from anyone. Trying to wring anything from Cass would only make her hands bleed.
But Gaius believed in her. Thea hadn’t even had to coax him. She’d offered to persist as eyes and ears and ferret out everything she could, but idle conversation yielded nothing. That he had an older sister? Remarkably helpful, that. She pulled another bag from her saddle and let it drop.
“What’s this, now?” Vinson’s voice carried, sharp and clear in the cold air. The grizzled and graying sugarmaker tromped toward them with his son trotting along at his heels. “You were supposed to take her home. Now you’ve brought her back, with horses?”
Elia hadn’t realized Cass had stepped back outside, but it was clear those words weren’t for her. She bristled at being talked about, rather than being talked to.
“You’ve got your king to thank for that. He’s sending her with me.” There was a roughness in Cass’s voice that hadn’t been there before. Anger? He hadn’t sounded angry prior to that moment.
“We’re going to find your nephew,” Elia added. “His Majesty ordered it.”
Vinson’s mouth pressed to a tight line. Somehow, she thought he’d be happy. Instead, he chewed on his words before he spoke, his tone low. “That’s a dangerous task, and one best you leave to others.”
She removed the last bag and tossed it onto her pile, not knowing how she was going to carry everything and not caring to figure out now.
Before she could think of a reply, Cass grunted. “Take it up with the king, then. I’m not borrowing any more trouble for myself than I already have.” He took Elia’s horse by the reins and drew it toward shelter. “There’ll be guards coming for these two in the morning.”
“Why bring them, then?” The sugarmaker scratched his grizzled chin, but flicked a finger to tell the boy behind him to help. The youth trotted forward to take the horse from Cass and lead him inside.
“Avoid arguments. Make better time on our way out here. We’re going straight to the woods after this.” Cass kicked snow away from his bags to clear space for his feet, then started picking them up.
Elia did the same. She wouldn’t give anyone a reason to doubt her. “Have you heard anything that might point us in the right direction?”
Vinson shook his head. “Sent some other hired hands out to check the woods. Nobody’s seen anything. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing out of sorts.”
“Which way did they go?” Halfway through gathering things, Cass folded back the top of one bag and then tossed it toward the stable door. That was right; the guards mentioned packing horse blankets.
She bent to look through her own supplies, found the other blanket, and tossed it aside. In another bag, she found a brush and curry. She put those aside, too.
“Northwest of your place, same spot they dragged him off from.” Vinson shrugged, then rubbed his cold-reddened nose and sniffed hard.
“Then we’ll go in from the northeast. Cover more ground. Might find something that way.” With all his bags strapped together somehow and mounted on his back, Cass bent to take some of Elia’s supplies, too.
She smacked his hands away. “Let’s get moving, then. Thank your son for looking after the horses, please.”
The sugarmaker nodded and crossed his arms against the winter air. “Watch for wolves.” His eyes narrowed at Cass. “Not just the gray kind.”
Uneasiness tightened in Elia’s chest, but she made herself smile anyway and stood. “Of course.” Her bags were not as secure as what Cass had strapped together for himself, and they shifted and slid uncomfortably. He stepped behind her and pulled them back into order, tugging straps and buckles until her burden felt more stable.
Vinson studied them, then nodded again and strode toward the stable door. “Good luck.”
Elia hoped they wouldn’t need it. She followed when Cass started off, their boots crunching in the snow. For a long time, that was all the sound there was. He set a hard pace to follow and she had to stretch her legs to keep up, though traveling in the path he’d broken was easier.
Eventually, she pushed herself to catch up and walk by his side, instead. With all that had fallen overnight, the snow was up to her knees. “What do you think?”
One side of his nose scrunched. “Of what?”
“What he said.” She nodded back the way they’d come, indicating the sugarmaker.
“That he’s lying.”
Elia paused and fell behind. “About what?”
Cass scanned the trees ahead. “Sending anyone out here. Can’t see him risking men in a snowstorm like what we’ve had.”
“Why would he lie about that? You have to remember, Peretor is part of his family.” She shuffled back into his trail. The muscles in her legs burned from exertion, but she was determined not to slow him down.
He did not alter his pace in the least. “That’s exactly why he would lie about it. It would be suspicious if a man didn’t send people out to look for a lost relative. But when the storm was coming, before you showed up, he told no one to be out there.”
“Including you?” It came out like a challenge. Maybe she meant it that way. He was so reluctant to speak with her.
He turned his head, regarding her with ice in his dark eyes.
A chill rolled through her and she swallowed. “And Peretor, I’m assuming,” she added as a way to cover herself. That look left her shaken, but not with fright, and she puzzled over that while she waited for him to reply. No matter how he growled or glowered, nothing about him struck her as frightening. Logic warred with her instincts, urging her to be more reserved. Even the best trained dogs could snap if pushed too hard.
Eventually, his attention returned to the woods. “I don’t know what he was doing out there,” he muttered. “Cursed fool.”
“So he wasn’t supposed to be out there!” She leaped forward and ran to put herself in his path. He didn’t stop walking, so she ambled along backwards. “I knew it. And you went out there for some reason, too. Did you hear him? Were you just being nosy? Or were you—” Something caught her ankle and she fell backwards with a yelp. Snow exploded upward around her when she landed.
Instead of helping her, Cass knelt and reached for something by her feet. “I knew it.”
Elia wriggled back and pushed herself up on her elbows. He plucked at a rope drawn taut between trees, buried beneath the snow. She stared.
“This is why we left the horses.” He rose and dusted snow from his knees, then offered her a hand.
Her ears heated and she tried to get up on her own, but the snow was deep enough to hinder movement. She accepted the help and grunted when he pulled her to her feet. “How did you know?”
“If they are Nylmerian, they’ll be using Nylmerian tactics. We do this in the mountains. If not to hinder the horses, then to set off alarms.” He drew a knife from his belt—she didn’t realize he’d gotten it back again—and cut the rope.
She bit her lip and shrugged to right her bags, knowing they were now as crusted in snow as she was. “So they’re people you know?”
“Maybe,” he said, though he gave his head a shake. “If we’re lucky, they’re not.”
“And if we aren’t lucky?”
Whether the face he made was a grimace or a frightful smile, she didn’t know. He walked more slowly now, kicking one leg out through the snow to check for traps. “There’s one thing they didn’t consider, at least,” he muttered as he shuffled along.
Elia stayed close, gripping the straps over her shoulders with both hands. “What’s that?”
“They set traps because they were afraid to be followed. So now we know we’re following them. And we know they’re afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” she asked, though suspicions tickled her thoughts.
This time, Cass’s eyes narrowed, and the answer came with his savage grin.
“Me.”
