me to find a job that made me invisible. If Estrid’s acolytes recruited me as a soldier for her army, then I’d be one of dozens. And one uniformed soldier looked much like another. Except I’d be watched as a potential flight risk and wouldn’t have any freedom. Their squads needed to learn how to move within the forests without giving away their positions or they’d be slaughtered. It was something I could do if I managed to convince them they needed my help.
Mom waited for my answer.
Kerrick wouldn’t be happy. Good thing he wasn’t here to lecture me.
“I need a better disguise.” I explained to Mom about my death and about the Peace Lily’s role in my survival, just in case something happened to me and Kerrick. “However, you cannot tell a soul I’m alive.”
“Of course not, dearie. I protect my girls,” she said with a spark of the Mom I’d remembered.
I outlined my plan.
“Goodness, such a to-do. You’re heading straight into trouble. I hope you know what you’re doing.” She left to fetch a few supplies.
I hoped so, too. While I waited for her, I arranged the room to aid with my plans. Mom returned with a basin, dyes, towels and a tray laden with other materials, including a couple jars filled with flesh-colored goo. At least that was what it looked like.
“I can’t lighten your hair since they’ve seen it darker, but I can dye it so it’s more red than brown.” She gestured for me to sit. “Make sure you always wear it up or pulled back. It will help make you look older.”
She worked fast, and soon my hair was wrapped tight in a towel. Opening one of the jars, she dipped her fingers in and then smeared the goo over my face and neck. Then she attacked my eyebrows with tweezers, plucking without pause. She dyed the thin arcs she left behind.
“This is going to hurt,” she warned me before brandishing a syringe. “Hold very still.”
I almost jumped from my seat when she pricked my bottom lip. Bracing for the stab of pain to my upper lip didn’t make it feel any better. My lips throbbed as if I’d bitten them very hard.
“Watz tat or?” I asked through swollen lips.
“It’s venom from a lannik snake. It’ll make your lips fuller for now.” She considered. “Usually it wears off in six months, but it might not last that long for you.”
“Ight ot?”
“Healers heal faster, right?”
Our bodies healed about ten times faster. I nodded. It was easier than talking.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to them. Now let’s get the lightener off your face.”
Mom washed my face, combed and braided my hair so the braid circled my head like a rope. She sprinkled something wet over my nose and cheeks before blotting at it with a towel.
With a satisfied smile she flourished a hand mirror, turning it until a stranger stared back at me.
“Freckles?” My now pale skin sported an array of freckles.
“They match the hair color. I used an ink that should last six months, and your natural skin color shouldn’t return for at least four months. I’ll put together a package of supplies for you to take along, so you can reapply if needed. And you’ll need a new name and realm to go along with the disguise.” She stepped back and regarded me. “Not bad, dearie. With the spectacles on, no one will recognize you.”
The glasses had given me a headache. Conscious of my lips, I formed my words with care. “I can’t wear … long.”
“Not to worry.” Mom rummaged through her supplies and produced a pair of glasses with silver wired frames. “These have plain glass.”
She helped me adjust them so they fit.
“Smart,” I said.
Sadness filled her eyes. “No, I’m not. If I’d listened to the rumors, I could have sent Melina away before those red-robed devils arrived.”
“Where would you have sent her? Not north or west, Tohon is invading those realms as we speak. Estrid has the north and east occupied. South?”
Pausing in the middle of cleaning up, she gaped at me. “No. Travelers from the south have told me such horror stories about a Skeleton King in Ryazan Realm.”
“Skeleton King?”
“He has gathered a following and they’re armed with the bones of their enemies.”
“Are you sure? That sounds far-fetched.”
“If it was only one or two travelers, I’d dismiss it, but many people have been fleeing from Ryazan. And they all say the same things.”
Just what we needed—more trouble. “Then you couldn’t have sent her anywhere, Mom. No place is safe anymore.”
No place is safe. My words to Mom replayed in my mind as I waited on top of the armoire. There was just enough room for me to sit cross-legged. Watery moonlight illuminated the lump under the bedcovers, but my hiding spot remained in the shadows.
A breeze rustled the leaves in the forest outside my open window. The fresh scent of living green reminded me of Kerrick. I half expected him to climb into my room. But nothing stirred or caused the insects to halt their nightly chirping.
The thin handles of my throwing knives dug into my damp palms. My cloak hung inside the armoire, and I wore my black travel clothes. Three years on the run from bounty hunters and mercenaries had taught me patience.
To pass the time, I thought about a new name and realm. Since my skin color now matched the people born in the northern realms, I decided I would be from Gubkin. It was tempting to pick Alga, but when Prince Kerrick of Alga showed up with Prince Ryne of Ivdel, there was a slight chance someone would try to introduce us. Plague survivors always sought out others from their former realms.
As for a name … I chose my mother’s name, Irina. A wave of grief swelled. I’d never had the chance to say goodbye to her or Allyn. Noelle had buried them in the mass graves and left Lekas. I’d arrived home to an empty house. My father and older brother, Criss, had died in a mine collapse before the plague struck. Four members of my family gone. I swallowed the tears that threatened. I would not lose Noelle, too.
The sudden quiet warned me. Shuffling footsteps outside approached my window. I shifted into a crouch and concentrated on the sounds. Two acolytes moved to block my escape. Then the lock on my door clicked and two robed figures entered. One moved toward my bed while the other stood before the now closed door.
Only four? Or did they have more waiting in the hallway? Did it matter? Not really.
I threw a knife at the person guarding the door—thunk—and then a second—thunk—pinning the sleeves of his robe to the wood. One down. I leapt off the armoire and landed on the acolyte near the bed. He fell with a solid thud. Just to be safe, I touched the back of his neck.
Power swelled from my core, and I channeled it into him, zapping him into unconsciousness. Not many people knew healers
