“And before you ask, no, you can’t join the scouts,” Tilda said, her eyes apologetic. “Ridley told me to tell you.”
“It’s probably just because you’re injured,” Ember said. “Just like how I didn’t go on the last mission, because I’d broken my arm.” She swung her arm around now, fully healed by medics since Bent Stum had broken it.
Tilda looked down at me, her full lips pressed together and her eyes grim, and she didn’t say anything. Like me, she knew my injury wasn’t the reason I was being held back. I’d already let Viktor Dålig get away once. They weren’t about to let me make that mistake again.
“We should get training,” I said, because I was tired of talking.
Tilda nodded then walked away, checking over the papers as she did. Ember led me to a spot on the mats where she’d been practicing. Her partner had moved on to work with someone else, and when he saw that Ember would be training with me and not him, he appeared relieved.
I wrapped my hands with boxing tape while Ember explained what specific moves she’d been instructed to focus on today. When I finished, I tossed the tape aside and glanced over at Ridley. He happened to look up at the same time, and his eyes met mine.
Even across the room, I could see the anger still burning in them. He hadn’t forgiven me yet, and I wasn’t sure if he ever would.
Then Ember’s fist collided painfully with my jaw, and I swung at her instinctively. She blocked her face, so I went for her stomach—connecting solidly with the firm muscles of her abdomen.
She gasped in pain, but smiled broadly at me. “Now that’s more like it.”
FOUR
compunction
The wind had calmed down some, so I left my jacket open, letting the air freeze the sweat that still stuck to me. After we’d finished training for the day, Ember had insisted that I join her for a treat at the bakery in the town square, saying we’d earned it. Tilda had to finish up some paperwork, and then she planned to meet us so we could talk more in depth about her wedding plans.
My muscles already ached and my right wrist cracked loudly every time I moved it, but I wasn’t sure I felt like I’d earned anything. The day left me feeling more like a failure than I already had.
Several inches of snow had piled up while we’d been working. Although there were still tracks from people and animals braving the weather, the streets were mostly deserted. The Kanin could handle whatever the weather threw at them, but that didn’t mean they were masochists. Most of us knew when it was worth it to stay in by the fire.
But Ember didn’t seem to mind. She just pulled her hat down over her ears and trudged through the snow banks.
“You were awfully quiet today,” Ember commented as we made our way down to the bakery.
I shrugged. “I was just training.”
“It’s more than that.” She paused before adding, “You know no one blames you.”
“Some people do.”
Ember scoffed. “Those people are stupid. Everyone who knows you knows that you did everything you could to stop Viktor Dålig and Konstantin.”
We’d been outside long enough that the cold had started to get to me, but I didn’t zip up my jacket. I just clenched my jaw, refusing to let my teeth chatter.
An oversized white husky was digging through the garbage outside the butcher shop. Large snowflakes clung to his thick fur. He looked at me as we passed by, his bright blue eyes seeming to look straight through me, and a chill ran down my spine. I quickly looked away.
“What if I didn’t do everything I could?” I asked.
Ember was so startled that she halted. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I mean, I did.” I turned back to face her, since I had walked a few steps after she’d stopped, and behind her I saw the husky had returned to rooting through the trash buried beneath the snow.
Ember narrowed her eyes. “Then what are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” I let out a deep breath, and it was shaky from the cold. I turned my head toward the sky, blinking back the snowflakes that hit my lashes. “I did everything I could, but it wasn’t good enough. So then … what does it matter?”
There was something more to it than that, though. Something I couldn’t explain to Ember.
Viktor Dålig had beaten me, that was true. The sight of him had been like encountering a ghost, and I’d been in shock, so he’d been able to get the best of me. That didn’t mean I hadn’t wanted to stop him, but it had been my fault for letting myself be caught off guard, even for a moment.
But Viktor had wanted to kill me. When he’d smashed my head into the stone, he’d been trying to execute me—I knew that with absolute certainty. But he hadn’t succeeded, and I had a feeling that I had Konstantin Black to thank for being alive.
Run, white rabbit, as fast and far as you can, he’d whispered when I came upon him in the dungeon. Even though he’d been escaping, he’d looked so defeated then—his gray eyes soft and mournful, his entire body sagging, his olive skin going pale beneath the shadow of his beard. Konstantin hadn’t wanted me to get hurt.
I’d been convinced that Konstantin had been working for someone, that his attack on my father and his plots to go after changelings weren’t his idea. In Storvatten, he’d even said as much to me, telling me that he’d done it all for love. Whatever that meant.
“What happened in Storvatten?” Ember stepped closer to me. “You never even told me about Viktor Dålig. I’ve had to hear everything through other people,” she added, trying not to sound hurt that I hadn’t confided in her more.