Shadow’s Lure Read Online Free

by a thin membrane. With a grunt, he tore off the skin and dropped it in the snow. His body hurt all over. His forearm throbbed where the bear’s teeth had shredded his jacket sleeve and the flesh underneath. Lines of blood dripped down his hand to stain the snow. A darker pool was spreading under his left leg from a set of long parallel gouges.
    Moving slowly, Caim crawled past the carcass to the remains of his fire. He blinked back the darkness from the edges of his vision. He couldn’t afford to pass out. Even if he didn’t freeze, he would bleed to death before morning. The warmth of the fire pit felt good against his face and hands. Working quickly, he shoved his knives into the bed of coals. Then he sat up, wincing, and pulled open the gashes in his pant leg and sleeve. Blood poured from both sets of wounds. He pulled the first knife out of the fire and slapped its glowing red tip against the raw meat of his thigh. Blazing pain shot straight to his brain. For an instant he was back on the roof of the palace in Othir. Josey’s face hovered over him, saying something, but he couldn’t hear a word.
    Reality returned as he pulled the cooling blade away. The stench of burnt flesh clogged the back of his throat. The leg wound was blackened and puckered, but most of the bleeding had stopped. Before he could think it through, Caim pulled the second knife from the coals and placed it across the two larger bite marks on his forearm. The pain wasn’t as bad the second time, or maybe he was getting numb to it. When he was through, he slumped back on the ground.
    Stars twinkled overhead. Save for a low buzzing in his head, the night was quiet. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but he fought it off and started crawling. He snagged the straps of his gear as he passed the wreckage of his lean-to. Dragging the bundles, he pushed onward into the night. If he kept moving until morning, he might survive. If his wounds didn’t reopen while he crawled. If he wasn’t visited by any more uninvited guests.
    If. If. If.
    With the buzz droning in his ears, he took it one painful inch at a time.

CHAPTER TWO
     
    S tanding by the clear glass window, Josey plucked at the lace cuffs that encased her wrists. Her suite at the top of the imperial residence was a series of connected rooms larger than the entire top floor of her old house. This parlor was her favorite place to come and be alone. A vase of fresh amaryllis filled the cloistered air with a delicate scent. Pale rectangles of sunlight reflected on the parquet floor. Masterpieces in oil and bronze hung on the walls.
    She reached into a small pocket sewn into her skirt and took out a square of parchment. She unfolded it and counted the rows of hatches drawn on the page. Forty-one, one for every day Caim had been gone. It seemed longer than that—weeks longer. Some part of her had believed he would return before now; another part whispered he was never coming back.
    Hearing footsteps out in the foyer, Josey stuffed the paper back in her pocket. The door opened, and a servant appeared, dressed in a blue doublet and hose with a griffin stitched over his heart in gold thread. He held out a steaming porcelain cup on a silver tray.
    “Tea, Your Majesty?”
    It smelled divine. Josey started to accept, but a twinge in her stomach reminded her that breakfast had not settled well. With a shake of her head, she sent the servant away. She took out the parchment and smoothed it on a sideboard table. She was about to fold it back up when Fenrik entered, carrying a long teakwood box. Her foster father’s man servant had aged dreadfully over the past months. His internment at Castle DiVecci during the recent troubles had turned him into an old man before his time. His hair had gone from gray to white, and his back bowed like a withered tree trunk. He set the box down on the table, opened the lid, and stood aside.
    Josey went over to him. “Please, Fenrik. You should have had someone else carry