Forest of Ruin Read Free Page B

already in motion, the one quickest to recover, his sword firmly in his hand. Tyrus’s blade caught him in the side, not quite piercing the armor, but Tyrus yanked it free and danced back, ready for another—
    Moria heard the thwack of the dart before she saw it coming.
    Tyrus pitched forward. “No.” He staggered, turning on his father. “No. You would not . . .”
    â€œI would,” Emperor Tatsu said softly. “To keep you safe.”
    Tyrus fell, and Moria knelt beside him. Tyrus’s eyelids fluttered as he struggled to stay conscious. She gripped his hand, and he squeezed hers back.
    â€œTake . . .” he whispered. “Take . . .”
    His eyes closed. She leaned down and kissed him.
    â€œI’ll take care,” she whispered. “You know I will.”
    She started to rise. Something hit her shoulder. A dart. She pushed up, turned on the emperor, and thrust her bound hands at him. “Was this not enough?”
    She bore down on him, her feet tangling under her as the sedative took hold. One of the men moved as if to stop her, but Emperor Tatsu waved him back. He stepped toward Moria and caught her as she fell. As he lowered her to the ground, she said, her words slurring, “I am no spy.”
    â€œI know,” he whispered.
    â€œYou do not wish me to spy on Alvar Kitsune, do you?”
    â€œNo,” he said, his lips to her ears as she drifted from consciousness. “I wish you to kill him.”

THREE
    A shyn stared at the man. Pale-skinned and white-haired, he had tribal tattoos of dragons on his cheeks. Not imperial tattoos like Tyrus’s, but rather the intricate art of the North. His eyes were golden with slitted pupils. Dragon eyes. Then he blinked, hard, and the illusion vanished—his eyes were as blue and clear as hers.
    â€œAshyn,” he said gently, when she didn’t respond.
    â€œYou’re my . . . grandfather?” she said.
    He nodded. “Did your father not mention me?”
    â€œHe did not speak of my mother’s family. Or his own. Once, when Moria asked, he said . . .” She swallowed. “He said it was another life. Best forgotten.”
    â€œYes, I can see that he would. Safer for all, given the circumstances.”
    The circumstances. Their mother’s suicide. Taking herown life to protect their father’s. To ensure her daughters would not grow up orphans.
    Except now they were. Not merely orphaned but without any family at all. Ashyn had spent the past moon trying to forget that. There were other things to worry about.
    Yet now . . .
    â€œMy grandfather,” she said slowly.
    â€œEdwyn, if that is easier.”
    â€œDo I have . . . ?” She was about to ask if she had other family. A grandmother. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. But that only made her think of the family she did have—namely the sister who was not here. Her gaze went to Tova, the giant yellow hound sitting at her side. Her thoughts moved slowly, still lost in the fog of the sedative.
    Sedative. A noxious-smelling cloth shoved over her mouth and nose. Frantically fighting to be free, seeing a boy, slumped on the ground, arrow lodged—
    â€œRonan.” Ashyn looked up sharply. “There was a boy—a young man—with me, felled by an arrow. Did you see him? Did you—?” She stopped short and her hand went for Tova, who rose, growling so softly only Ashyn could hear him. “The arrow. That was you. You shot him and—”
    â€œNo, child. We were following you, but Lord Okami’s men felled your escort, and we took you before you were hurt.”
    â€œEscort? No. I mean, yes. Ronan was escorting me. But he’s a friend. A good one.” Her heart thumped so hard she could barely get out the words. All she could think about was Ronan, on the ground, that arrow—
    â€œDid Dalain Okami take Ronan or . . .” She swallowedagain and forced out the words. “Did you see if he