Poison. Part 10

It was strange watching the d.u.c.h.ess, in her perfectly tailored velvet riding outfit, standing in the dirt talking with Fred. The sight of her made Kyra feel twelve years old again-like she was about to get a lecture about scrubbing before her lessons with the princess. Kyra was aware of every speck of dust she'd acc.u.mulated on the road, the knots in her hair, the bits of hay sticking to her clothes.

Kyra clenched her hands. If only she could keep him from saying anything stupid. If he mentioned Kitty....

The thought sent spiders of tension crawling over her skin.

Fred was doing a lot of head-shaking and "no"-ing. That was good. The d.u.c.h.ess wouldn't know him and certainly wouldn't know that he had anything to do with Kyra. If he was denying he was with anyone, it might be okay.

But waiting to find out was killing her.

When the d.u.c.h.ess turned her head up sharply toward the barn, Kyra's heart stopped cold.

The n.o.blewoman seemed to be looking right at her. It was impossible-there was no way she could see anything through a crack in a barn wall a hundred yards away and two stories up. Just as abruptly as the d.u.c.h.ess looked up, she looked away again.

The d.u.c.h.ess didn't seem satisfied with Fred, but she mounted her horse, wheeled it away, and galloped out of sight.

Kyra slumped down into the hay.

Below, the barn door sc.r.a.ped open, and Kyra heard Fred's footsteps on the ladder.

His face appeared above the edge of the loft. "Do you have any idea who I just talked to?" He didn't wait for Kyra to answer. "The queen's sister! Who, by the way, is absolutely gorgeous. She's in the area looking for a fugitive-not really what you'd expect from the queen's sister, but Mohr is a pretty strange kingdom. And a friend of hers told her about us. A witch friend. Can you believe it?" Fred plopped himself down. "She asked where my wife was, and I told her she must have the wrong person. It didn't really look like she believed me, but she did believe I was a complete idiot and not worth her time."

"Imagine that."

"Ha-ha." Fred slung the waterskins off his shoulder.

"Wait," Kyra said, sitting up in alarm. "How did she find us? We're miles away from the witch."

"No idea."

"Fred," Kyra said tentatively, "you didn't remove anything from the witch's house, did you?"

"What do you take me for?"

Kyra c.o.c.ked her head.

"She did give me some warm socks before she went and got you."

"Fred!"

"What? My feet were cold. You should have seen the holes in my other socks!"

"She put a trace on you in case you escaped. d.a.m.n." Witch's traces were much like potions tags, except that if you got rid of the object, you got rid of the trace. Nothing got rid of a potions tag.

"Really? I thought she was just worried about my feet." Fred touched one of his socks.

"Go back to the river-"

"That was a mile back!"

"-and throw the socks in. We can't have a trace on us. We don't want the d.u.c.h.ess to come looking for us again. Next time, she'll bring the guard with her."

"Why should we be afraid of her?"

"You aren't from around here, so you might not know about the d.u.c.h.ess. But I'm telling you, do NOT mess with her. She's powerful in the kingdom, and even though we aren't who she's looking for"-Kyra tried to make this sound as though she really believed it-"she could have us imprisoned for a long time before things got cleared up. There wouldn't need to be a reason, either-people can be thrown in prison here for irritating the wrong person."

"Hmmm..." Fred mused. "She is like a beautiful but poisonous flower."

"She isn't just beautiful." Kyra hesitated, but she needed to make sure Fred realized the danger they were in. "The d.u.c.h.ess," she whispered, "is a witch."

"No way! Like Miss I'm-going-to-eat-you-in-my-stew back there?"

"No! Not like her. The d.u.c.h.ess's gift is persuasion and attraction. It's very difficult to say no to her if she turns her gift on you. You're lucky she only put an attraction spell on you and didn't turn on the persuasion, or you would've spilled every little secret you've got."

Fred looked sincerely disturbed. He rubbed his hand over his head, rumpling his brown hair. "I didn't know."

"Please, just go down to the river, toss the socks, and avoid falling in love with any dangerous people, okay?"

"Fine." Fred's smile turned back on. "But I want you to know that I will then be completely sockless and cold."

Kyra glared at him.

"Okay. Just promise me you'll be here when I get back. I don't think we should separate the animals right now."

Kyra sighed. "I promise."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Fred reached into his pocket and tossed something over to Kyra.

On reflex, Kyra caught the object. The necklace the witch had stolen from her. "How did you...?"

He put his fingers together in the two-fingered sign of a thief. "Just a small talent I picked up in my travels." He winked at her and disappeared over the side of the loft.

THE NEXT DAY, Kyra cursed herself for not having slipped away the night before. She was tired, dirty, and completely unnerved by the appearance of the d.u.c.h.ess.

Plus, it was raining.

That wasn't Fred's fault, but somehow it seemed everything would be easier to bear if she didn't have to share her misery with anyone.

When Fred had come back without the witch socks the night before, she'd pretended to be sleeping. She felt him lie down beside her and could have sworn he was watching her in the dark of the hayloft. Kyra hadn't dared risk opening her eyes to see. His breath fluttered against her face, and she felt the lightest touch on her cheek-something soft and warm resting there for the briefest second.

Fred had kissed her.

She heard him settle back into the hay.

She listened until she was sure he was asleep, then peeked at him. She hadn't gotten used to how beautiful he was. It still sent a jolt through her. She wanted to reach out and touch the curve of his lips.

But she didn't. Instead she'd nestled in beside him and, despite everything that had happened, fell into an easy sleep, a warm feeling inside.

Then this morning she'd awoken to the sound of rain on the roof and the animals antsy and ready to go.

Fred was unusually quiet, almost somber as they headed out.

The rain alternated between pouring and drizzling. The intense deluge made it difficult to see ahead, and the drizzling, while bearable, made Kyra irritable.

Rosie and Langley, on the other hand, were fully recovered from the incident with the witch. Rosie's nose was twitching back and forth, sniffing the ground in front of her. The rain didn't seem to have an effect on her at all.

Fred's mood sank even further as they walked.

They were getting close to Wexford. Soon there would be other people on the path. Kyra needed to put on a glamour before they encountered anyone who'd recognize her.

The time had come to lose Fred.

As Kyra debated the possible ways she could slip away, she noticed how quiet the forest had become. The rain fell in a fine mist now, but it wasn't that. The birds that had optimistically started singing when the rain had let up were now silent.

Then she heard the faintest noise.

Someone following them.

She glanced behind, and just for a moment, there it was-a flash of black in the green behind them.

"Fred," Kyra whispered, "there's someone behind us."

"So?"

"Someone following us."

"Why would someone be following us?"

"I don't know, but it looks like someone who's up to no good. He's wearing all black."

"So," Fred replied, "are you."

"I'm wearing black because it travels well, but that's not the point. This person is dodging in and out of the trees."

"Uh-huh."

"Have you forgotten about the goblins who attacked you?"

"Do goblins wear black and dodge in and out of the trees?"

"As soon as we get around that bend"-Kyra pointed to a curve in the path in front of them-"let's step off the trail. Whether he's a robber or not, he'll pa.s.s us by and we won't have to worry about it."

"I think I can protect us against one guy." Fred crossed his arms across his chest.

"But why go to the trouble? Come on."

Around the corner, the path widened and straightened out. Upper branches of elm trees arched overhead to create a canopy.

Kyra pushed Fred behind the wide trunk of a cedar with Rosie and Langley.

"We're going to need more cover than this." Kyra got out her potions bag. Dumping the contents into her palm, she quickly scanned for the cloaking mister.

Beside her, Fred started in surprise. "What is that?" he asked. "It's got a red skull on the label."

Kyra cringed. He would notice the most dangerous poison in her bag.

Shoving everything but the cloaking potion back into the bag, she shook her head and said in a quiet voice, "A friend gave me a bag of potions in case of emergencies." She took the cap off the cloaking potion. "Remember I told you about the confusion potion? I don't know what they all are."

"What sort of friend would give you a potion with a red skull on it and not tell you what it is?"

"I'm sure it's in the bag by mistake." She started spritzing the cloaking potion over each of them and the animals.

"A red skull means it's extremely dangerous, Kitty. One of my friends was a potions apprentice. So much as a tiny drop leaks out of that bottle-whatever it is-and we could all be dead."

"Shh!" They were completely coated now-she couldn't see Fred or the animals. She felt Rosie lean up against her leg.

"This stuff really works," Fred said. "Who is this friend of yours?"

"Shh!" Kyra repeated, and squeezed his arm to silence him.

In moments, the man in black came around the corner. He crouched low, scanning the ground. Kyra heard Fred's sharp intake of breath.

The man moved like a spider toward them.

Dartagn.

Still on her trail. That was bad.

Fred held Kyra tightly in his arms, so close she could feel his breath against her face.

Dartagn drew nearer.

He stopped on the path beside the fat tree they hid behind, his mustache drooping with wet, peering intently at the ground. Their footprints?

Kyra squinted. There must have been something there, or he wouldn't have been looking.

Dartagn began inching off the trail, heading toward them. He paused and stooped down, studying the earth.

Less than a foot away. If he reached out, he'd touch their legs.

He looked back up, staring blindly at where they were standing. He leaned forward, his hand reaching toward them.

Tup-tup, tup-tup. Tup-tup, tup-tup.

The sound of many feet marching came down the trail.

Dartagn paused, hand outstretched.

Abruptly, he stood and jogged off in the other direction.