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What was his plan? What was he doing?
    The soldiers took me out into the night. Rain fell from the sky in splatters and mingled with the blood on my face. The drops were cold. They hid any tears that I cried as the men holding me shoved me into a prison wagon and slammed the door shut.
     
     
    NOW
     
     
    SHE STARED BACK at me and shook her head to show that she wouldn’t scream, just as I’d ordered.
    “How far is the village?” I whispered, my voice rough as stones in the silence.
    “The village is less than a mile,” she replied, without hesitation. Her voice was strong, fearless.
    I shifted, and pain shot through me. I’d moved too quickly, grabbed her too hard. My body hurt everywhere. An ache started at the back of my neck, making my hands shake.
    Her eyes slid over me, as if assessing my weaknesses. I pushed down harder on her wrists to keep her pinned as I shoved away the pain and focused on my questions.
    “How far to the gate?”
    The skin between her eyes pinched. “The gate? You mean the village gate?”
    Was she pretending ignorance? I didn’t have time for mind games. “The mountains, then.”
    “The farm sits in their shadow,” she hissed. “But killing me does nothing to help you. You are too weak to get far, and the Watchers fill the woods.”
    “Kill you?” Shock sizzled through me. I was her prisoner. I was weak. Dying, maybe. Did she fear me ? Surely she didn’t think I was dangerous. Did she?
    She yanked her wrist free from my hand and slammed her elbow into my nose. Pain exploded through my head as she jarred the place where the soldiers had broken it only weeks before. I fell back, seeing lines of white, and she rolled away and ran for the door.
    “Wait,” I cried out. “Stop—”
    By some miracle, she listened. She stopped.
    “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” I was pleading now. “I just needed answers.”
    “You would kill me for information, then?” she snapped.
    I laughed in pure disbelief, and the laugh turned into a wheeze of pain. “I’m not a murderer of farm girls,” I ground out. Was this what she thought of me? That I was some dangerous criminal on the loose? “Not even those who plan to harm me,” I added.
    “Harm you? I’m sticking my neck out for you. I’m putting my family in danger for you. I’m sheltering and feeding you—and for what? It’s you who just tried to harm me.”
    I didn’t believe her. She had a shrewd look to her. This was a story to keep me docile. Hiding me? Sheltering me? When she looked at me, I saw calculation and mistrust in her eyes. I didn’t know what her plan was, but whatever it was, I couldn’t trust her.
    Still, maybe I could cajole her into letting me go.
    “I just need information about my location,” I said. “I won’t try anything again, I promise.”
    She relaxed slightly, as if she was convinced I’d bought her story of defenselessness and fear.
    “Even though I know you want me dead,” I added, seeing her expression.
    She laughed once, derisively. “You make no sense.” She yanked something from her pocket and held it aloft. Herbs. “I came to bring you these for your wound. I’m not going to kill you. I just want you gone before you can cause any more trouble.”
    Uncertainty darted me, making me pause. She’d brought herbs? “You’re lying.”
    “Why would I lie? If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it by now. I could have simply left you in the snow, or refused to clean your wounds, or refused to feed you.”
    Her words rang true. I said nothing, absorbing them. I remembered her face, stark with fear and harshness as she cleaned my wounds. I remembered her snapping at me to lie still. Yet she had cleaned them. She had brought me food. She had given me a bed, albeit one of straw on the floor of a barn.
    “Why haven’t you?” I blurted. “Left me to die, I mean.”
    The farm girl bit her lip. She was beautiful, I thought suddenly. Beautiful in a wild, frightening kind of way, like a hawk, or a