CHAPTER 20

Aswin screamed.

For a mite of a girl, she had a voice loud enough to startle Vex out of her worries and send Derowen flying to her feet. On the couch, the Shademaster dropped the report she was reading and ran toward her daughter’s room. Vex—who’d been sitting near the fireplace, staring into the fire with a familiar map in her mind’s eye—let her necklace bounce back against her chest and followed. She had her hand on her knife and Trinket by her side.

Derowen reached for her sword too, before she flung the door open to her daughter’s room.

Aswin was on her own. She sat up in bed, her tangled blanket clutched to her chest, and she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. Her face was red and puffy from crying, and her hands clenched the blanket so tightly, her bones stood out under her skin.

“They were trying to kill me,” she sobbed. “The ash walkers were here and they were trying to kill me and I couldn’t hide and they were trying to bite me.”

Derowen dropped to her knees next to the bed and gathered her daughter close to her. The comforting presence only caused the girl to sob louder, and she tore at her mother’s shirt, whipping herself into a frenzy again.

“They were everywhere. They kept trying to find me and I was so scared.”

Derowen patted her hair, soothing her with quiet murmurs, though when she glanced at Vex her face was contorted with pain. “Don’t worry, my love, it’s only a bad dream, nothing more. You’re safe here. They can’t ever hurt you, I’ll make sure of it.”

“I wanted to be brave, Mama,” Aswin sobbed. “I don’t know how to be brave like you.”

Derowen pulled her daughter closer still, and ferocity seeped into her voice. “You are the bravest girl I know, Aswin. You’ll be braver than all of us one day.”

Vex felt the words squeeze at her chest. She still stood by the door opening, and she couldn’t put into words what hurt more: the sound of the little girl sobbing like her heart was breaking, or the endless stream of comforting whispers from Derowen.

When they were younger, Vax would hold her like that when she was terrified, but even so she’d learned not to cry too often. Pretending to be strong was easier when no one saw her tears.

Eventually, the little girl calmed down enough for Derowen to sit up and pull her into her lap, where she held her until the racking sobs turned to quiet hiccups and then to yawns. Once she reached that point, Derowen disentangled herself and carefully laid Aswin back in bed.

Aswin immediately tensed and protested. “No, Mama. No.”

Derowen placed a hand against her cheek. “I’ll find you a cup of water and a cloth to wash away the tears, but after that you have to sleep.”

When she straightened, Aswin whimpered. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“Vex can stay here until I’m back,” Derowen promised, with a quick look at Vex to make sure it was all right.

Vex clenched her hands by her side, but she nodded. Only a monster would say no to a little girl with such heartache. “Maybe Trinket can stay here too.” She crossed the room on soft feet and crouched next to Aswin.

Although the girl had dried her tears, her face was still blotched and red. She looked up at Vex with bloodshot eyes and all-overwhelming trust, and then peeked surreptitiously at Trinket, who followed Vex looking for all the world like he didn’t spot an opportunity for scratches and cuddles here.

“He helps me when I’m scared too,” Vex admitted softly.

The girl frowned. “You were never scared.”

“Was too.” Vex gently straightened the girl’s collar. “I’m scared all the time. Lots of people get scared.”

“Not my mother,” Aswin said, jutting out her jaw.

Vex nodded. “No, maybe not her.” On the other side of the room, Derowen withdrew quietly toward the door and mouthed a simple all the time.

“What are you scared of?” Aswin demanded.

“Oh, the ash walkers terrify me,” Vex confided, and Aswin smiled wanly. “I’m constantly scared something will happen to my brother too, because he gets in trouble a lot.”

“Like how he got himself lost?” Aswin asked. She’d seen Vex ride out every day over the past few days, combing the hills around Jorenn, and always coming back empty-handed.

“Exactly like that.”

“Are you scared something will happen to your mother too?” Aswin wanted to know. Before Vex could gather her scattered thoughts and answer, she sat up in bed. “Were you scared of Trinket when you first saw him? On account of he’s a bear?”

Vex gently pushed Aswin back again. “I don’t think you can sleep sitting up.”

“Well, were you?”

Vex hesitated. She wasn’t sure it was an entirely appropriate bedtime story, but for a girl who grew up around these brutal attacks, perhaps it did help to know that she wasn’t alone. That everyone was scared sometimes. “Come, settle in, and I’ll tell you.”

Aswin obediently plopped down on her pillow again, but she propped her head up on her elbow, and she kept her emerald eyes on Vex. She looked at her with such wonder and trust and ease that it squeezed Vex’s heart.

“I was scared when I first met Trinket,” Vex said, leaning back on her heels, and reaching out to scratch Trinket’s ear. Trinket curled up next to her, his chin resting on Aswin’s blankets and his soulful eyes focused on the girl. She sniffed and smiled and placed her free hand over his nose.

“I was scared,” Vex said, “but it wasn’t because of Trinket. He was only a cub, smaller than you are now.”

Aswin giggled at that.

“Once upon a time, my brother and I were traveling through the woods. We found a lovely place to stay, and while my brother went into the city for supplies, I stayed behind and I met other travelers, who told me they were passing through on their way to the city too. They came by our camp and they offered to share their food with me.” She should have known better. If life in Syngorn had taught her anything, it was to not take kindness at face value, because it inevitably became cruelty.

“I thought they were being nice and helpful, but what I didn’t know is that they were actually terrifying monsters in disguise.” She lowered her voice and Aswin pulled her blanket up higher, shivering in delight. “So when one of them crouched down by our fire and pretended to prepare a meal, the other walked around me and grabbed my arms.”

Vex shifted, and Aswin squealed. Trinket immediately pushed his snout closer toward her and nuzzled her hand.

“They took me to their camp, which wasn’t all that far from ours, and they locked me in a cage on top of a wagon. And I could see that I wasn’t the only one they kept there. They had animals in cages too. They’d captured birds and two young griffins and this good boy over here.” She ran her hand over Trinket’s head. “That’s when I realized that they weren’t actually travelers, they just pretended to be. It was as if they’d been hiding a second set of sharp teeth behind their friendly smiles.”

In reality, they hadn’t looked different at all, but Vex wasn’t about to tell Aswin that evil could look so mundane when she already had monsters to worry about. The poachers had been laughing and joking around once they’d captured Vex, and they’d happily eaten the food they’d promised to share. One of them hummed a cheerful tune and tossed an apple onto the wagon that held Vex’s cage.

“Were they just as scary as the ash walkers?” Aswin whispered.

Vex considered that. “When I was there, I thought they were the scariest lot I’d ever seen.”

“What happened next?”

“I cried,” Vex said. “And I tried to escape. I tried to pick the lock, but because I was so frightened my hands were trembling.” She hesitated briefly, not wanting to burden the little girl with her despair of being trapped there. Instead, she said: “Then I realized Trinket was trapped in one of the other cages, and he looked so scared. I knew I had to break myself out, and I would have to break him out, too.”

Trinket looked at Aswin with his large, brown eyes, and the little girl nodded with equally large eyes. “You had to escape together!”

Vex nodded. It wasn’t a complete lie. Trinket had been in the cage opposite hers, she just hadn’t known he was there. He’d been curled up and hidden, protected by an adult brown bear with scars around her snout and a bloody gash along her ribs. The mother bear’s breathing had been labored and thin, her life fading before Vex’s eyes.

Vex ran her fingers through Trinket’s fur. “I waited until the monsters were asleep, and I told myself I would be brave. I breathed very slowly and I kept my hands as still as I could, until they stopped shaking. And then I tried to pick the lock. And do you know what happened then?” Vex leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. “Out of nowhere, my brother showed up. He’d come back to our camp and found me missing, so he tracked me down. He helped me get out of the cage, and when the monsters woke up, we fought them together.”

“Did you win?” Aswin breathed.

The fight had been wild and chaotic, and she only remembered fragments of it. Her anger. Her despair. She’d woken up in a cold sweat every night for a week after, seeing herself standing in the camp with blood streaks all over her face and clothes, a knife in her hand, and a body at her feet. “Of course we did. Because we’d decided to be brave and we were together, and that was all we needed. If you keep fighting, no matter how scary they are, the monsters can never win.”

Aswin yawned and snuggled deeper under the blankets. “And that’s when you found Trinket.” The words slurred with fatigue.

“We opened up all the cages in the camp and all of the animals had somewhere to go. The birds flew off. The griffins disappeared into the forest around us. Only Trinket remained. So I picked him up and held him close, and I promised to take care of him.”

She couldn’t have done anything else either. Trinket’s mother had been maimed and bloodied, but in her weakened state she’d still tried to keep her cub safe from the cruelty of the poachers. Her wounds had smelled of death and decay, like she’d been left to rot from the inside, and her cries had torn through Vex. So Vex had done the only thing she could. She’d taken a knife and put the bear out of her misery. She couldn’t abandon Trinket after that.

“He came with us to the camp and he grew into the biggest, bravest, best bear you ever saw. And the cuddliest one too.” Vex leaned against Trinket, and Trinket hummed contently.

Aswin, who was on the verge of sleep again, murmured something incoherent. She petted Trinket’s nose and she smiled.

“We lived happily ever after,” Vex whispered. And she desperately wanted the words to be true.

“YOU’RE GOOD WITH HER,” DEROWEN said softly. “She’s quick to make casual friends, but aside from Wick and me, she doesn’t let people in. Not even other children her own age. She’s seen too much bloodshed here. She’s terrified to lose them.”

Vex looked away, the gratitude as uncomfortable as the tenuous trust. “I did what I thought was best. And Trinket usually helps. He’s far cuddlier than stuffed animals.” She would never admit that she regularly needed that same comforting presence. “Besides, she’s a good kid. This must be a scary place to grow up in.”

Derowen walked around the sitting room to a small wine cabinet, where she poured them both a drink. She held one glass out to Vex and sat on the floor next to the fireplace, in the same spot where Vex had sat earlier. She didn’t look at ease there, lines of discomfort creating hard angles along her shoulders. The glow of the dancing flames reflected in her weary eyes. Most days, they worked together in silence, and it seemed sharing did not come easy to either of them. “It’s been hard on her. She refuses to stay behind when I have to take to the gates, so she’s seen far more than is good for her. I try to shield her from the worst of it, but I can’t lie about what the world looks like.”

“She knows you’re there to protect her. That matters a lot,” Vex said quietly. She found a spot on one of the couches, where she could curl up in a corner. It wasn’t just the absence of Vax that made her uneasy here, or the fact that she thought she’d spotted tracks today but hadn’t heard back yet from the scouts sent to investigate them, but the fact that the people around her kept finding ways to circumnavigate her defenses—or simply acted like they didn’t exist.

She hazarded a glance at Derowen’s ring and reminded herself: she didn’t want their pity or their compassion. She didn’t need their understanding either. She appreciated their help, but once she found her way back to Vax, she’d leave this all behind.

Derowen nodded with a sad smile. Over the past few days, she hadn’t been able to take a break. The responsibility of the town weighed heavily on her, and every time Vex returned from her days helping the Shadewatch map and scour the countryside, she would find Derowen in another meeting, reading another report, listening to the grievances of townspeople, or being called to pass judgments in matters of safety. Derowen had spent a night patrolling the palisades with Vex when worry leaked through town that dead walkers were wandering around in the vicinity. From the palisades, the guards could see the lumbering gait of the dead along the hills, but none came closer. The night remained on edge but thankfully quiet, aside from the lingering echo of the horns.

The Shademaster looked exhausted, and even the glow of the fireplace couldn’t mask how wan her face was and how her worried frown was becoming a permanent fixture. In those few days Vex had seen her work, she never let her responsibility sour to malice. She didn’t allow her exhaustion to become carelessness.

Eventually, Derowen leaned closer to the fire, close enough that it might burn. “I hope that one day, she’ll understand I do what I do to ensure that she won’t have to. I want to make Jorenn safer so that she won’t have to be scared. I want to be sure we prosper so that she won’t have to worry. I want to teach her how to fend for herself without the risk of surrendering her power. How to be strong enough so that she doesn’t have to be frightened of losing. She’s all I have, and there’s no one else who could take care of her but me either.”

“Her father?” Vex asked, despite herself.

“A merchant. A charmer, and I was a fool. He told me beautiful stories about his lavish home and the future we would have together, before he disappeared into the night. He knows she exists, but he has no right to call himself her father.”

Vex stared into the fire. The comfortable heat didn’t seem to extend to her spot on the couch. With Trinket still by Aswin’s side, she hugged her legs closer, and all she said was, “She’s lucky to have you.”

Derowen pushed away from the fire and glanced over in the direction of Aswin’s room. “I’m lucky to have her.”

The words made Vex’s chest constrict, but she smiled and she forced her voice to sound steady. “Please remember that when she asks you for a bear as a pet.”

Derowen groaned. “I’m excited for the many conversations we’re going to have on that subject. I’ve already asked Wick to keep his eyes open. I’m hoping we’ll be able to distract her with a stray kitten.”

“Easier upkeep,” Vex acknowledged.

“Terrible on the curtains, though.”

They sat in an easy silence for a while. Derowen eyed the stack of reports on her desk and purposefully turned away, while Vex slowly disentangled her knotted limbs. The treacherous voice inside of her told her to not trust anyone, told her to run and get out. It warned her that the company and trust Derowen offered her could never last, and she’d only get hurt again.

But when the silence lengthened, and the comfort of the room extended around them, one question slipped through. It had been weighing heavily on Vex for days. “Why did you help me? Before you knew that I could try to help find the miners?”

Because while she understood they had a common goal now, what Derowen had done for her those first days went far beyond simple hospitality or helping because her daughter asked. Vex had offered to take her belongings to the inn and search from there, but Derowen had wanted nothing of it. “It’s not like you have the time to spare to take in a stray. You could’ve sent me on my way without another thought.”

Derowen scratched her neck, and she took a sip of her wine. “Whoever made you feel like you don’t deserve to be paid attention to was horribly unjust,” she said. “I helped because I would want someone to help me, were I in your situation. Because I have people that are more important to me than my own life, and I would not know what to do without them.”

“Your brother?” Vex asked. The Shademaster had alluded to that the first night, on the palisades, but what she’d said in public and what Vex had witnessed in private were two different things. The conversation between the Shademaster and her brother had seemed less than pleasant.

Something harsh flashed across Derowen’s face, though she visibly, immediately, pushed it away. For a brief moment she looked more vulnerable than Vex had seen her in all their days together. “My daughter, first and foremost. Wick, though neither of us would freely admit that.” The corner of her mouth inched up in a wry grin. “Others, perhaps, once upon another time. I understood your pain. I also felt responsible for your encampment getting attacked so close to our city.”

Vex pulled at her necklace again and shook her head. “You weren’t responsible for it,” she said.

“Then let’s say I recognized your worries,” Derowen said. She unconsciously ran her thumb over the band of her ring. “And your strength.”

Vex raised an inquiring eyebrow, and the Shademaster laughed. She got up to refill her glass, and when she turned back to her, any trace of vulnerability was gone. “This is a difficult place to live in, Vex. I wasn’t lying when I told you I sometimes desire news from far-off places, because a part of me still longs for the road. But if I’ve learned anything in the years that I’ve spent here in Jorenn, it’s that we can only stand against the dangers that come from the hills when we stand side by side. We form a stronger, more resilient community when we help our neighbors. I hope you know you are welcome here too.” Her gaze drifted to the stack of letters that still lay on her desk, and she sighed. “Though I should find a way to ensure that hospitality doesn’t come with endless record keeping.”

“If your daughter is ever to follow in your footsteps, I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”

Derowen shook her head sharply. “Aswin will be free to do whatever she wants.”

Before Vex could ask what she meant by that or needle Derowen for more information, a sharp rapping at the door echoed through the room, and Wick peeked in. He wore a heavy coat, like he’d just come from outside, and his gray skin was pale. “Our last scout just returned from the hills,” he said breathlessly.

Vex immediately got to her feet. “And?”

“Your plan worked,” he said. “She found the entrance to the mines, and she barely escaped with her life. She can lead us back there. We can march on their hideout.”