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Redemption
Redemption
Redemption
Ebook475 pages7 hours

Redemption

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Amara wants to get as far away from Alwyn and the Resistance as she can. But when an old foe resurfaces, Amara finds herself diving right back into the fight. Meanwhile, the Resistance struggles to heal from their devastating loss. Can they find the strength to defeat the king?
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateSep 6, 2018
ISBN9780998251134
Redemption
Author

Laura Kehoe

A Fantasy author from the Pacific Northwest. When I'm not writing, I love snuggling with my cat, spending time outside, and drinking way too much coffee.

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    Redemption - Laura Kehoe

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    Chapter One

    A low rumble jolted Davin awake at the crack of dawn.

    He jerked upright, heart racing as his mind struggled to orient itself to reality. Davin had been in the middle of a disturbing dream when the sound startled him awake. He couldn’t remember all the details, but it left him feeling on edge. Not that the real world was any more of a comfort. At least with a dream Davin could find solace knowing the events weren’t actually happening.

    Hearing the noise again, Davin looked up. High up on the nearest mountain, a cloud of snow was slowly settling. Davin took a deep breath, finally bringing his heartrate back down to normal. Avalanches weren’t an uncommon occurrence in the Banor Mountains, but no matter how many he witnessed, Davin still felt a sliver of fear whenever he saw one. What would it feel like to be trapped under all that snow?

    Davin shuddered. Even being at the base of such a monstrosity was unnerving. He didn’t understand how the Mountain Tribes could spend their whole lives living in the shadows of those giants. Davin couldn’t wait to get further away from them.

    Unfortunately, it was going to be some time before the Resistance was able to move to a new location. It had been a little over a month since they were attacked by the king’s soldiers. Only a small group of Resistors had survived, and even fewer had been lucky enough to make it without serious injury. There were still so many who were too hurt to move. They would need more time to heal. Davin just wished waiting wasn’t so incredibly difficult.

    As Davin stood and began walking through the camp, he spotted a woman sitting by herself near one of the fires. Even from across the clearing, Davin recognized that familiar blond braid, strands of hair escaping to fly around her head as she stared into the flames.

    Elaise spent the majority of her time in the healer’s tent, recovering from the attack. Most of her minor injuries were completed healed, but she still had a nasty gash on her leg that required treatment.

    Davin sighed as he started toward Elaise. If it were anyone else, he might find it strange that no one was sharing her fire. It used to be that Elaise could hardly step out of her tent without being hailed for a conversation. Now, more often than not, she was left with a tense silence.

    Elaise, you can’t hide over here forever. Davin said softly as he sat down next to her.

    She glanced up in surprise, as though she hadn’t realized anyone was nearby, which was actually likely. Elaise hardly seemed to notice anything anymore. She was too busy brooding on her perceived failings to think about anyone else.

    After realizing who had joined her, Elaise returned her gaze to the fire in front of them. For a moment Davin thought she would simply ignore him, but after a pause, Elaise shrugged her shoulders.

    I’m not hiding. Or haven’t you forgotten that I got myself and nearly everyone else attacked? I’m recovering from my injuries. Her voice held a now painfully familiar bitter note. As usual, Davin felt a mixture of pity and frustration. Everyone knew that it wasn’t Elaise’s fault they were attacked. In fact, if it hadn’t been for her leadership, there might not have been any survivors at all. Not that she would ever believe that.

    That wasn’t your fault. Davin was surprised how much anger was in his tone. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. It wasn’t fair to take out his frustration on Elaise when she couldn’t help her feelings.

    You are not to blame for what happened, Davin continued in a softer tone. We all knew the risks before we joined the Resistance. Everyone here was prepared to die for this.

    I’m well aware of that fact, thank you Davin, Elaise said coldly, still refusing to meet his eyes.

    And are you also aware of how much we are suffering without our leader? Davin asked urgently, staring at Elaise. She looked down, refusing to meet his gaze. "You won’t come to council meetings, you refuse to make any relevant decisions…you aren’t doing anything."

    You’re perfectly capable of surviving without me. Elaise hunched her shoulders as though she were trying to disappear into the icy ground.

    No we aren’t—don’t you get that? Davin shook his head in frustration. "We need you, Elaise. We need our leader. We need hope, which is in a very short supply at the moment. Without you, there won’t be a Resistance anymore."

    How can I give hope to anyone when I have none? Elaise asked helplessly, her voice growing softer as she spoke. I’m sorry Davin, I truly am. But I can’t lead our people. I don’t have the strength.

    Davin took a deep breath, pausing before he continued. Do you remember when I first came to the camp? I was so angry, so terrified of fighting for anything other than my own survival. I wanted desperately to believe in a better future, but I couldn’t find the strength. Do you remember what you said to me?

    That was a long time ago, Davin. But judging from the scowl on Elaise’s face, Davin knew she remembered. At least Elaise’s annoyance put a little spark of energy back in her eyes. Anything was better than her hopeless sorrow.

    Let me refresh your memory then, he pressed on determinedly. You told me to fake it. To fake it until it became real. You said false hope was better than no hope at all. That people could convince themselves of anything if they tried hard enough.

    That was different. Elaise glared into the flames.

    I don’t see how.

    It…it just was! Elaise snapped, finally meeting Davin’s gaze with eyes full of fury. I’m not going to sit here arguing with you, Davin. Just leave me in peace. She turned back to the flames, retreating into herself once more.

    Fine, I’ll leave. Davin stood, barely able to contain a disappointed sigh. But I wish you’d change your mind. If not for yourself, than for the people who died so we could have a chance at freedom. They deserve better.

    Davin walked away before Elaise had the chance to respond. He doubted she had anything further to say anyway.

    He had no idea how to pull Elaise out of this. She’d always been the strong one, the one to hold them together when everyone else felt like giving up. But now…how could he convince her there was still hope when he wasn’t entirely sure himself?

    The Resistance needed Elaise—needed someone to bring them back together. Elaise obviously thought there was no reason to keep fighting. But if they gave up, what had all these years of pain and struggle been for? They couldn’t stop now.

    ****

    Why on earth are you awake so early? Catrain smiled as she walked over to the fire where Mirim sat huddled with a steaming mug clutched in her hand. Probably more of their so-called-tea—it was mostly just hot water, but calling it tea sounded better.

    The girl’s light brown hair was gathered on top of her head in a messy pile, strands flying every which-way, a bright excitement in her green eyes. Catrain’s grin widened as she took in the sight. Mirim’s youthful exuberance was infectious.

    Thea’s offered to show me how to properly change a bandage, Mirim explained excitedly, her eyes crinkling as a wide smile spread across her face. And later she said she would start teaching me what the different plants and medicines do. She says I have a knack for healing. The girl practically glowed with pride.

    Catrain’s grin widened. It was nice to see Mirim so cheerful. Ever since they’d joined the rest of the camp, Mirim’s confidence had grown exponentially. Catrain loved being able to see the girl find her place in the Resistance. In the midst of all the terrible things that had happened, Mirim’s spirit and passion were a breath of fresh air.

    And Thea certainly appreciated Mirim’s newfound interest. The girl really did seem to have a gift for treating injuries. She’d been working with Thea every day for the last two weeks, tirelessly learning all the names and functions for the various herbs and how to do things like properly set a broken bone. Catrain knew Thea was grateful for the girl’s help. Even with two other healers, there was still so much to do.

    I thought you wanted to do something more exciting than patching up wounds all day? Catrain asked with a teasing smirk.

    Mirim shrugged, looking a little sheepish. I never knew how much goes into healing. It’s more than just boiling rags and mixing a few roots together.

    Well, Thea’s lucky to have such a hard-working assistant. Catrain wrapped an arm around the girl’s thin shoulders.

    I don’t know about that. Mirim shrugged again, her face turning red as she wiggled out of Catrain’s embrace. Yesterday I dropped a pile of freshly cleaned bandages in a puddle. We had to rewash every single one. I don’t think Thea was too happy about it, but she’s still letting me help out, so she must not be too angry.

    Trust me, Mirim, Catrain chuckled, Dropping bandages certainly isn’t the worst mistake Thea has faced. When I was training with her, I almost chopped someone’s arm off because I sneezed while cutting his bandage. Catrain snorted and shook her head You’re doing just fine.

    Mirim’s eyes widened and she looked like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or gasp in shock.

    It must have been a really hard sneeze, Mirim finally managed to sputter out.

    Catrain cringed, remembering the look of horror on the man’s face as her knife slipped toward his arm. "If I could make it through my training without killing anyone, I’m sure you’ll do just fine."

    Mirim let out a small snort. Thanks for the encouragement, Cat. She stood. I need to get going—I’ll do my best not to chop off any arms today.

    Catrain chuckled. That’s a good goal to have. See you later, Mirim.

    ****

    Not so tight. Thea gently moved Mirim’s hands as the girl continued wrapping the bandage. Garren had agreed to let Mirim rewrap his arm, which had been sliced open when he’d fallen into a thorny bush while on patrol. It was a good thing he was so patient, because she was having a very difficult time figuring out how tight to make it. This was the first time Thea had let Mirim wrap a wound all on her own and the last thing she wanted to do was let Thea down.

    I’m sorry. Mirim bit her lip as she unwound the bandage, noticing Garren’s face crumpled into a grimace.

    She was having trouble concentrating on her work. All Mirim could think about was Elaise, laying a few beds away. She’d been watching Mirim for a few minutes now, a tight frown on her face.

    Not a problem, Garren assured her as she rewrapped his arm. Relax, Mirim. I’ve had much worse done to me than this. He smiled kindly at her.

    Mirim returned the smile. But then her gaze drifted toward Elaise again and her happiness died away. All morning, Mirim had successfully avoided looking over at her, hoping if she ignored the woman, then she wouldn’t have to worry about angering her. Now that Mirim had noticed Elaise’s glance, however, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the bandage, her eyes kept wandering to Elaise’s cot. Mirim tried not to be obvious about her staring, but Garren must have noticed.

    Don’t worry about Elaise, he said softly. It’s nothing you’ve done, I promise. She’s just grieving in her own way.

    Mirim nodded, swallowing hard as her breakfast threatened to reappear. Thanks, Garren.

    He looked down at his arm, which Mirim had finally finished rewrapping. This looks great, Mirim. Pretty soon you’ll be giving Thea a run for her money.

    Mirim rolled her eyes. "I’m not that good."

    Garren chuckled. Just give it a few more months and you might be.

    He clapped Mirim on the shoulder as he stood and left the shelter. Mirim wished Garren could have stayed with her. His warmth was comforting. With his exit, Mirim was left to face the icy glare of Elaise all on her own.

    Since there was no one else who needed tending to, Mirim knew she had to check on Elaise. Part of Mirim—a very big part—wanted to turn around and run out of the shelter. But she knew avoiding Elaise would only make it harder when she had to check on her later. So after taking a deep breath, Mirim made her way over to the woman.

    How are you feeling? Mirim winced as she heard her voice shake. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her nerves under control.

    Elaise shrugged, not even bothering to meet Mirim’s eyes. I’m fine.

    Do you need anything? Mirim asked. At least her voice wasn’t shaking anymore. Food? Water? Another blanket?

    I said I’m fine, Elaise snapped, eyes flashing furiously as she turned toward Mirim. You don’t need to baby me.

    I’m not babying you. Don’t yell at me for trying to be nice. Mirim grumbled. She froze, instantly regretting her words. That was not the sort of thing you said to the leader of the Resistance. Why couldn’t she learn to keep her mouth shut?

    Mirim took a hasty step back. I—I’m sorry. I—

    Elaise shook her head, her face softening slightly. "No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Mirim. It’s not you I’m angry at."

    Oh… Mirim bit her lip, unsure how much to ask. This was the first time Elaise had shown her anything other than suspicion and hostility. Well…if it’s not me, then who?

    Elaise let out a deep, surprisingly shaky breath. The only person I’m mad at is myself.

    But, you didn’t do anything wrong, Mirim said hesitantly.

    Elaise laughed bitterly. Thank you, Mirim. I wish that were true.

    Mirim took a deep breath, feeling a sudden surge of compassion for the woman. She wasn’t sure if Elaise wanted her to keep talking, but Mirim couldn’t help continuing. I...I know how it feels to think you’re responsible for people you care about dying. But…the dead don’t come back. No matter how bad we feel. And, well, it seems like the best way to honor their memories is to keep fighting whatever fight they were fighting when they died. Mirim felt her face flush further, cheeks burning with heat.

    Elaise was frowning at her again—the same frown Mirim had noticed earlier. Except now that she looked closer, Mirim realized it wasn’t an angry expression. It was the sort of pensive look one gets when they have something important on their mind.

    I…I should go. Mirim took a step back, her nerves getting the better of her. If you need anything—not that you have to need anything—but if you do, I’ll be around all morning.

    Before Elaise could say anything further, Mirim turned and left, fighting the urge to break into a run as she slipped out of the tent. She didn’t want to stick around if Elaise decided to get angry again.

    As she walked away from the tent, Mirim sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She wasn’t sure what to think of that conversation. On the one hand, Elaise didn’t seem to be mad at her anymore. And she had opened up to Mirim a little. That was something, at least. But Mirim doubted Elaise appreciated being lectured at—even if Mirim thought she needed to hear those words.

    Where are you off to so fast? Catrain asked as Mirim hurried past her, still barely able to keep from running as she fled from the healer’s shelter. You look like you’re being chased by a demon.

    Mirim stopped, her face flushing again with embarrassment. She looked down at her boots. I...I may have lectured the commander.

    Catrain laughed. Holy Gods, Mirim.

    I didn’t mean to, Mirim said quickly. I just...I was so nervous and everyone’s always talking about how much we need her back. And she was just sitting there so sadly. So I just… Mirim put her face in her hands with a groan. I’m an idiot.

    Catrain chuckled. "Don’t worry, Mirim. Elaise has dealt with much worse than getting berated by a fellow Resistor. Maybe hearing it from you will finally get it through her head."

    Mirim let out a shaky breath. Despite Catrain’s assurances, Mirim still felt mortified. She was a Resistor now. Mirim couldn’t waste time with such childish behavior.

    Catrain put an arm around Mirim’s shoulder. Sometimes it’s our stupidest decisions that turn out to be the best ones. Don’t be too hard on yourself.

    Mirim forced a smile. Thanks.

    I was actually coming to find you, Catrain said after a moment. I wanted to see if you were still interested in learning to use a sword.

    Mirim felt her face break into a huge grin, her chagrin briefly forgotten in excitement. You’re going to teach me?

    "I did promise you, didn’t I? Catrain said with a smile. Well, since I’m guessing you’re still interested, I thought I’d give you a few pointers this evening."

    Really? Mirim was too excited to even notice how girlishly shrill her voice had become. Oh, Cat, thank you so much! I promise I won’t disappoint you. Mirim wrapped her arms around Catrain and squeezed tightly.

    Catrain laughed, returning the hug. "Mirim, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you could never disappoint me."

    Chapter Two

    Alright, Mirim, let’s see what you can do. Catrain tossed Mirim a sturdy stick. The girl made a grab for it, but missed. Mirim’s face turned red as she bent to pick up the stick.

    Catrain had taken them into the woods a little ways, hoping it would give them some privacy. But she could see Garren hiding a few feet away, watching with a wide grin. She rolled her eyes and chuckled. It was impossible to hide anything in the Resistance.

    A bright blush colored the girl’s face as she bent to pick up her weapon. Mirim shook her head in embarrassment, clearly angry at herself for the mistake.

    She held the stick awkwardly in her right hand, as though she were afraid of holding it too close to her body. Mirim looked at Catrain with an expression of both excitement and terror.

    Mirim, relax, Catrain said, fighting back another chuckle. Mirim was eyeing the stick dubiously. It’s just a piece of wood. I promise, you won’t do any damage with it.

    Mirim took a deep breath, her muscles relaxing slightly as she raised her eyes back to Catrain with an annoyed frown. "I’m not afraid of the stick; I just don’t know how to hold it properly."

    Well, let’s start with that, Catrain said, pressing her lips together to hide her smile. First off, you’re holding it much too far from your body. Bring your arm in a little…there you go. And hold it up so it’s not pointed at the ground. There—already looking better.

    They spent most of the time on basic positions. Catrain showed Mirim how to properly hold her weapon and where to put her hands to make the best use of a sword. They also worked on Mirim’s footwork. The hand position was relatively easy for her to master, but footwork was where she really struggled. Catrain lost count of the number of times the girl tripped over her own feet.

    Catrain took a deep breath and sighed. Mirim, stop worrying about your feet so much. They’ll go where you tell them to. Think of it this way: your body tends to follow your eyes. If you stare at the ground, chances are, you’re going to end up in the dirt. So keep that chin up and look where you want to go. Catrain smiled at the annoyed grimace on Mirim’s face. She knew the girl didn’t like to be told what to do, but she had asked Catrain to teach her.

    Mirim squared her shoulders and stood straight, determinedly not looking at the ground. They began again, but it wasn’t long before Mirim was staring at her feet once more.

    Mirim, Catrain forced a note of sharpness to enter her tone. Sternness didn’t come naturally to Catrain, but maybe that was what the girl needed to stay focused. Pay attention to me—not your feet.

    The girl’s head shot up, eyes locking with Catrain. She could see a sliver of defiance in Mirim’s eyes. Mirim clearly didn’t like being spoken to in that tone. But, at least it had gotten her to stop staring at the ground.

    Catrain moved forward and, to her surprise, Mirim managed to block her attack. She swung her sword again and Mirim staggered backwards, her eyes flicking down for a fraction of a second before she caught herself and looked back up.

    Nice job, Catrain grinned. She attacked again and Mirim met her sword. Catrain was moving much slower than she normally would in battle, but Mirim needed to gain more confidence before Catrain went any faster.

    After nearly a half hour of practice, Mirim had already improved a great deal. She still looked down too much, but it was much better than she had been at first. With a little more practice, Mirim was going to be quite the warrior.

    Let’s end on that for today, Catrain said after nearly a half hour of practice. You’re doing really great, Mirim. I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.

    I can keep going, Mirim argued stubbornly, obviously trying to hide how hard she was breathing. Her face was beet red and a layer of sweat matted her brown hair. I’m not tired.

    Catrain laughed, seeing through Mirim’s lie. "Well, even if you’re not tired, I certainly am. I’m sorry, Mirim, but I’m not sure I have it in me to train anymore today. I promise I’ll show you more tomorrow."

    Mirim let out an impatient huff. I guess I can wait. Do you mind if I practice a little longer? You don’t have to wait for me—I know you’re really busy.

    Catrain snorted. The girl just didn’t know when to give up. Alright, keep going. But be careful. You’re developing new muscles, so it’ll be easy to strain them. I wasn’t kidding about not pushing too hard.

    I’ll be careful, Mirim assured her.

    Catrain smiled as she slipped back to the main camp, a well of pride filling her. Mirim might be a little too stubborn for her own good, but she worked harder than almost anyone Catrain had ever met. Mirim learned more in their half-hour of training than most recruits in their entire first week.

    That smile slid off her face, however, when she caught sight of Davin sitting by himself by one of the fires. He looked so miserable. Catrain sighed and shook her head. He could be so ridiculous sometimes.

    Holy gods it’s cold. I can hardly feel my fingers. Catrain moved her frozen hands closer to the fire, hoping that speaking first might encourage Davin to open up faster.

    Oh yeah, it’s cold, Davin managed to say after a couple moments of silence, speaking in a far-away voice that clearly said he was thinking of other things.

    Listen, Davin—

    I know what you’re going to say, he sighed. I just can’t help thinking if I’d kept a closer eye on Amara, I could have stopped her from leaving. She drove me absolutely mad more often than not, but…we could really use her help right now. Amara knows more about this country than almost anyone else in Alwyn. She could help us find more supporters, a different supplier—well, maybe not a supplier, Davin added with a grimace, Considering how terribly our meeting with Bane went. But still, she could be of use. Maybe I could have tried harder to keep her here.

    Catrain rolled her eyes. Amara is an accomplished thief, capable of escaping from some of the most heavily guarded places in the world. It wouldn’t have mattered how closely you watched her. If Amara wanted to leave, she was going to find a way to leave. Wallowing in pity isn’t going to change anything. Nor will it help us survive.

    Davin looked at Catrain. You’re starting to sound like Desini. That’s exactly what she said to me the other day—told me I was being an idiot.

    Well, Desini’s right, Catrain said with a snort. And I’m sure Garren’s also told you something along those lines. So, it looks like you’re outnumbered.

    You all have a point, I suppose. He shook his head. I honestly thought Amara might have finally changed. Then again, she’s the one who always told me I was too idealistic.

    "We all trusted Amara, Catrain said softly, feeling a sudden and painful twist in her gut. Anyway, we don’t know that she’s going to betray us. She might have just panicked and decided to run away for a little while. Who knows? Maybe she’ll change her mind."

    She won’t, Davin said gently. I’m sorry, Cat, but we won’t be seeing her again.

    Catrain shrugged, trying—and failing—to appear nonchalant. She couldn’t keep the disappointment from showing on her face. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

    Someone told the king where our old camp was, Davin said after a moment, a note of desperation in his voice. He looked at Catrain, as if begging her to come up with another answer. If it wasn’t Amara, then who?

    Catrain rubbed her face, feeling sick to her stomach as she thought about the attack. "I don’t know. But if she was planning to betray us, why did she get arrested with us in Narin? I’m not saying you’re wrong—in fact you’re probably right. But if she did betray us, I have no idea why she’d have helped us escape that city."

    Who knows why Amara does what she does? Davin laughed bitterly. "Half the time I’m not sure if she even knows what she’s doing. She pretends to have everything figured out, but I think that’s just one more lie she tries to show the world."

    Well, we’ve moved locations, Catrain said in a voice of forced confidence. "Even if Amara did betray us to the king, she doesn’t know where we are now. And our group is small enough that we should be able to avoid detection."

    Davin nodded again. I hope so.

    Catrain put a hand on Davin’s shoulder. Don’t beat yourself up. You did nothing wrong. We’ll get through this—we always do.

    Before Davin could respond, Desini stomped over with a piece of parchment clenched in her fist.

    Have you seen Garren? Desini demanded impatiently.

    Not since yesterday. Davin shrugged. Why?

    He’s supposed to be working on inventory, Desini said, clearly annoyed. He told me he’d get it finished this morning, but he has yet to complete it—as usual.

    In Garren’s defense, he had a good reason for missing your meeting. Catrain grinned, some of her humor returning. He’s been secretly watching Mirim practice. She’s actually pretty good, considering she’s never fought a day in her life.

    Desini’s eyebrows rose. Mirim’s learning to fight?

    Catrain nodded. I gave her a lesson this morning.

    "You’re teaching her?" Desini asked, her eyes narrowing.

    You refused, so someone had to. Catrain shrugged, but continued to grin as Desini’s scowl deepened. Catrain knew she shouldn’t tease Desini so much, but she just couldn’t help herself. It was too fun.

    I don’t have time to teach her, Desini snapped. "Some of us are busy trying to keep the Resistance alive."

    Catrain snorted. "It isn’t as if the rest of us are sitting around drinking ale. I wish I’d spent the morning drinking ale rather than freezing my backside off in the woods. But even you can’t deny we could use another capable fighter."

    Desini huffed and spun around, stalking off with an air of extreme annoyance.

    I have a feeling Mirim is much better off with you as a teacher than Desini. Davin laughed.

    Catrain chuckled. You’re probably right. Anyway, she clapped a hand on Davin’s shoulder, "I should get going. But seriously Davin, don’t be too hard on yourself. We’re all responsible for Amara leaving."

    Davin nodded, his smile disappearing. I know that.

    Catrain rolled her eyes. "Somehow I doubt you do. But try to convince yourself, alright?"

    Davin sighed. I’ll try, Cat. I promise.

    That’s all anyone could hope for.

    Catrain sighed and walked off, leaving Davin to think in silence.

    Chapter Three

    Amara paused, wiping sweat off her forehead before it ran into her eyes. The air around her was so thick and muggy she might as well be stuck in a rainstorm. She peeled her shirt away from her back in a vain effort to get some air flowing. Amara was looking forward to changing out of these thick, wool clothes into more practical—not to mention cooler—attire.

    That was one of the reasons she had decided to come to Penrith. Just as in Baenery, Amara had a decent-sized stash of goods hidden here. It wasn’t as large as her stock in the merchant city, but Amara didn’t think it would be safe to return there for a while. She didn’t want to believe Kallian was alive, but after what had happened in Narin, Amara also knew she couldn’t be naive. And if that woman was somehow still breathing, then the last place Amara wanted to be was in Kallian’s old stomping ground.

    Despite the heat and humidity, Amara felt a strange sense of relief as she entered the city. In a few days she’d be out of Alwyn and far away from all of this. She wasn’t a fool—Amara knew life would never be easy after all that had happened. The king would be furious when he realized she’d fled Alwyn. And if Kallian was alive too...Amara would have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. But at least she would be free and still living. That was all that mattered at the moment.

    Leaving Alwyn was the smart thing to do, the best option she had. And yet, Amara couldn’t stop wondering what would have happened if she’d remained with the Resistance. Had they started recovering yet? Were they planning a counter attack?

    Desini would want to attack immediately. She was always the one for swift action. Davin would probably preach caution, explaining that a fight would be impossible until they grew their numbers. Everyone else would fall somewhere on either side. Amara could just picture the heated arguments erupting. Maybe Davin would even start to swear. A small smile crept across her face. Amara always found it entertaining when he got angry enough to let out a string of colorful curses.

    Amara shook her head sternly. She couldn’t let herself think about them anymore. The Resistors were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, Amara hadn’t wanted to get involved in this war to begin with. This wasn’t her fight. Amara had already helped them more than enough.

    Forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, she turned down a side street and approached a rickety shack that was leaning precariously to one side. It looked in danger of falling down at the slightest gust of wind. But Amara had been in the shack enough times to know that, despite its appearance, it was perfectly safe inside.

    What the building had been before Amara bought it, she still wasn’t sure. The previous owner claimed it used to be a tavern, but it was so cramped she doubted ten people could have fit inside. That would have been a pretty poor tavern.

    Amara had purchased the structure from an older man who was heading east to live out his last years in the warmth of Palie. Even at that time, it was beginning to fall apart. The ceiling had a gaping hole in it and one of the walls sagged so much that every time she visited, Amara was surprised to see it still standing. She’d spent a few coins repairing the major damage but left most of the destruction as it was. No need to make the space too inviting.

    The inside, apart from being tiny, was also covered in a layer of dirt. She never bothered to keep the place clean, preferring it to look as derelict as possible. Besides, Amara wasn’t interested in what it looked like above ground. All she cared about was the cellar under the back counter.

    The dust around the cellar door was a few inches thick. That was good. It meant no one had been snooping around. And the padlock on the cellar was still firmly in place.

    She reached into her pocket and grabbed the key, rubbing a finger over its rough, rusted surface as she glanced around one last time. When she was satisfied there was still no one in the vicinity, Amara pushed the key into the lock, exerting a little extra pressure when it threatened to catch before fitting fully inside. The door creaked in protest as Amara swung it open.

    Down ten steps was a small room piled with crates varying in size and color, from a small grey box less than a foot wide to a massive crate almost as tall as she was. Amara had spent years collecting everything she might need. There were bedrolls, jars of food and water, clothes, and all other necessities.

    Amara methodically went through each box, taking out anything she thought could be useful for her new life in the east. After she had finished going through the boxes Amara groaned as she examined her pile. There was no way she could bring all of this with her. She was going to have to shrink her collection down by at least half.

    While she thought about what she could afford to leave behind, Amara changed into lighter clothing; a pair of thin grey leggings and a blue cotton tunic. It felt good to change out of her thick, wool clothing into something better suited for the warmer temperatures.

    By the time Amara was finished in the cellar, the sun was already high in the sky. She stood outside for a moment, savoring the heat soaking into her skin. The noon heat had chased away many of the citizens usually roaming Penrith’s streets. People from further north tended to shy away from such high temperatures, although this was nothing compared to the summers in Ma’Hal or Palie. Even so, Amara figured it was time to follow suit and find somewhere to cool off in. She enjoyed the heat, but spending too long in it when she wasn’t accustomed to such weather could create all sorts of unpleasant problems.

    Besides, she needed to know what was happening in the world before venturing out of Alwyn. It was good to be kept apprised of current events, and the best place to learn about those events was a tavern. Any time Amara came into a city, one of the first places she visited was a bar. After a few drinks, even the most tight-lipped person would share their knowledge to a willing audience.

    She didn’t have to walk long before spotting the perfect option. It was a modestly-sized three-story building with a sign over the door reading Silver Spoon. The outside of the establishment was clean and looked taken care of and Amara could hear a low rumble of voices from behind the closed front door. Those were generally good signs.

    Amara went inside and made her way over to the counter, barely managing to squeeze between the packed tables. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the potent aroma of sweaty, unwashed bodies and a hearty dose of raw fish assaulted her nose. By the time Amara reached the innkeeper, her eyes were

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