Prince of Traitors

Jasper

"Jas," Owin exhales. She clutches me to her; I feel her fingers digging into the back of my shirt. My arms go around her, my eyes squeezing shut as I press my nose into the curve where her neck meets her shoulder. She smells of sweat and cold air.

Owin sways back and forth, like she's testing the stability of our embrace. My heart jumps at the easy, pressing contact. It occurs to me, absently, that this is the first time Owin has touched me like this. I'm weary and frightened and sore, but I never want her to let go of me.

She pulls away too soon. I look down and see the slash across her abdomen, the blood staining her shirt. "You're bleeding," I remark, fear sparking through me.

Owin shakes her head. "I'm fine." She pulls the long chain with the rings on it—I hadn't even realized it was taken from me—over her head and hands it to me. I trade the gag around my neck for the chain and pull it on, tucking the rings underneath the collar of my shirt.

Kieran searches the sideways cart without a word, more likely avoiding the scene of Owin and me together than actually looking for anything. Nimia barrels toward us from the woods on the side of the road. She throws her skinny arms around my waist, knocking the breath from me.

"We were so worried about you!" Nim cries. "I was so scared—I didn't want to leave you, I'm so sorry—"

"No, Nimia," I say with a slight laugh. "It's okay." I ruffle her silver hair. "I told you to go. You did everything right."

Nimia's bottom lip quivers, but she squeezes me again, tucking herself against me. I put my arms around the girl, rub her back before she lets go of me.

Owin eyes my wrists, the bruise on my face. "Are you hurt?" she asks.

"A little dizzy, but I'm okay," I reply. I rub at my aching head. "When the cart tipped over, I hit my head. I must have blacked out. But when I woke up, the bindings on my hands were cut." I shrug. "And you three were here."

Owin gives me a small smile. She lifts one hand and touches my cheek, the one not marred by a bruise. She looks like she wants to say something, but she only drops her hand from my face.

"Oh, here," Nimia says. She hands me my satchel and my sword. I sheath the latter across my back and loop the former over my shoulder. My dagger is missing, my thigh sheath empty. Owin bends and picks up a dagger; it's Rahmi's, I realize, and I sheath the filigreed blade at my thigh.

Kieran kicks a wooden beam down, and the cart partially collapses. "We should get out of here before those bastards decide to come back or guards come by," he says, his voice clipped. He doesn't wait for us to follow him before he storms off into the woods, leaving the wrecked cart behind.

I open my satchel and check its contents to see if Rahmi stole anything from me when he and his sister took me captive. Inside, I find the paper box of sweets that I'd bought for Nimia. I pull the box out and tap Owin's arm with it. She turns and eyes it curiously.

"For you," I say, my voice quiet. "Chocolates. Meant to bring them earlier, but my plan was foiled."

Owin grins and takes the box. She sends Nimia ahead to catch up with Kieran, and drops back to walk beside me, slowing her pace to make up for my limp. "Thank you," she whispers. "For what you did for her. I can't... you don't know what it means to me."

I look at her, meet her silver eyes with my own. "Yes, I do," I breathe.

I feel her hand slip into mine, her slender fingers squeezing—just for a second—before she lets go of my hand and the warmth of her skin disappears.