Winter Be My Shield Read Free

hadn’t lasted long.
    Blood-red stones gleamed at her through the rags and she sifted a little snow in to cover them. Whether it melted to soothe the burns or froze her hands to numbness she didn’t much care. Prying the suppression bands off had taken too long  — she’d had no time to work on the punishment bands as well. If she’d waited any longer Rasten might have found her before she even left the camp.
    A distant shout made her freeze like a startled hare and she hastily pulled her mittens back on and clambered to her feet. They couldn’t have found her tracks — in a storm like this the snow covered them in moments, but the swirling whiteness played tricks on the eye. One of the men must have seen a shadow and shouted before it melted away. It was sheer bad luck but it would end her brief freedom all the same.
    Sierra leaned into the wind and set off again. Her only hope was to put as much distance as possible behind her. By now Rasten knew she was gone and if he grew close enough to sense her …
    Kell had been treating his new apprentice gently for fear of crippling her growing power, but all that had ended the moment she stepped out of the tent. It wouldn’t have been much longer before he started the training, anyway, Sierra told herself. Beneath her fur the hilt of her stolen knife pressed against her belly. If Rasten did find her, she had no intention of being taken alive.
    She’d killed a dozen men in her escape — torn them apart with the power that lurked beneath her skin and slipped away in the confusion that followed. She’d stolen enough gear to have a chance of surviving outside in a Ricalani winter  — a white coat that camouflaged her against the snow, boots and snowshoes, gloves, cowl, hat and dagger; all the things Rasten had kept locked up out of her reach, using the winteras another jailer. She’d found a little food — a meagre pack of emergency rations she’d snatched up from a tent. It wouldn’t feed her for long.
    Power brushed against her mind like the tickling caress of a feather and Sierra faltered, nearly stumbling again.
    Sierra … The voice came as a whisper. It sounded as though Rasten were standing right beside her and murmuring in her ear. Sierra, where are you going to go? Don’t do this, Little Crow. There’s nowhere for you to hide — we found you once, we can do it again.
    His voice seemed to echo inside her skull. Sierra screwed her eyelids closed and for a moment she saw a ghostly vision through his eyes. He was sitting on a horse with men ranging ahead of him like a line of beaters as he gazed at a forest half shrouded in blinding snow. The Akharian army was drawing near, but Kell would turn out the entire camp to hunt her down if he could, despite the threat of southern soldiers and mages.
    A band of searing heat encircled each of her wrists and with a sob of pain Sierra broke the contact. Her power was rising again and, as it neared the surface, Kell’s shackles awoke in a bloom of heat to punish her lapse in control.
    Spirit of storm … With the wind howling in her ears Sierra tried to empty her mind. It was no easy thing while the power leapt and surged within her. For two years the suppression stones had kept it caged and without those bonds it was like a wild beast, snarling and bristling with every surge of pain and fear. She imagined her thoughts whipped away like smoke on the wind, but it was some time before it grew quiet once again. Rasten couldn’t have expected her to reply — he must have been trying to frighten her into giving herself away. He was surely growing desperate. If he failed to find her, Kell’s rage and frustration would fall on him instead. Kell wouldn’t permanently damage his apprentice, but he knew how to inflict enormous suffering while still leaving his victim whole — Rasten knew that better than she did.