01/25/17 *** Author's Note *** In addition to posting this new chapter, I have edited and updated the previous four chapters for your viewing pleasure. And since it's been just short of five years since an update, I'd encourage any returning readers to start from the beginning to reacquaint yourself with Alyssa and Raven's journey. I never intended to let this story sit for so long, and while I make no promises of frequent and furious updates, I will say that I hope to have this finished by the end of 2017.

Here's hoping.

-Khaleda

The Hudar witch had taken the Queen of Norr hostage, stealing away into the wilds to evade capture. Word spread quickly, carried by corvid and equine, spoken in each dialect, country drawl and city slang. Every able-bodied citizen was expected to report any suspicious persons and sightings of Alyssa Norxis or Raven the witch. The standing army split, with the men most skilled at traveling the wastelands headed for Hudar. And for more than a week, not a soul laid eyes on the two missing women.

Deep within the winding city streets, Melissah lurked; the transition from palace servant to common street thief a seamless affair. The young woman did not go hungry nor without shelter. Always wary of the guard, she had a newfound aversion to them, considering they were looking for her. That word had also spread quickly.

She watched a group of soldiers march down the street, all shiny bits and squeaking leather, spears held high, noses turned up. In the quiet nook between two buildings, she adjusted the pretty length of brown hair she'd grown while attending the Queen, hiding it beneath a dull grey headscarf. She glanced to a leather satchel resting on the ground beside her feet.

The queen's package. She hadn't opened it, despite burning curiosity. The king would stop at nothing to hunt Melissah down and pry the lumpy mystery from her hands. She vowed to deliver the package to Alyssa, no matter the cost. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she drifted into the streets and discreetly followed the soldiers.

O.O.O.O.O

All of Norr's commanding military officers gathered in the great hall of the palace, each hoping to think of a plan that would see the stolen queen returned.

"If we take the more northern passes, we're sure to hit snow deep enough to swallow us."

"But the Hudar are rumored to winter in the northern Targantis. What if we run into them?"

"There's no need to take the passes, because there is no way some vagabond woman who's spent the last fifteen years in the desert will know her way across the mountains."

"Obviously she knows something. No one's been able to catch her."

"What if she went south?"

"Don't be stupid—half our army's there. Not to mention she'd been seen. It's a bloody desert."

"The ravens from the south report no sightings of the Hudar. But she's just a vagabond woman that's spent the last fifteen years in the desert, after all."

"She could have slipped right past our sentries!"

"Right. All thirty-thousand of them happened to be looking the other way when she waltzed past. No one's that daft."

"No one rational, you mean."

"You think she's insane?"

"She has to be. What woman kidnaps the Queen of Norr with nothing but two horses and a stolen sword? What coherent person would possibly think that was an intelligent idea?"

"What if she's dead? Maybe her horse fell and she tumbled down a cliff. That would be a pity, wouldn't it?"

"And what of the queen? Did she push the witch, you think? Now she's trotting back on that arrogant white stallion?"

"Well, it's possible. Alyssa's clever and tenacious."

"What if Raven sought out aide in a foreign land? What if she's going to try and trade the queen for clemency further east?"

"Forget east, the west is a far closer enemy. The Spire mine route has gone undisturbed into the mountains. We're due to reach the base in a few days. There hasn't been any sightings of what's left of Daskis' hoard. Is that not passing strange? Where did the Hudar go?"

"I told you, it's rumored they winter in the north—"

"What if she's with the hoard? What if she's going to rally them together and storm Olisgard?"

"She? Is a seasoned general too frightened to speak what she is at council? Raven is a witch. A witch who stole our queen. She's not only intelligent and dangerous, but she's been underestimated her entire life. We need to get that priestess here—Khalimat. We need to know everything there is to know about this woman."

"I doubt that crone will leave her temple. You know how peculiar priestess are."

"You do raise a point. Raven was schooled by the best. She knows Khalimat, but does the priestess know the Hudar equally as well?"

"What if she knew Raven would defect? What if Khalimat sent Raven up here to create unrest in Norr?"

"Really? She'd send the key to securing Hudar to the king by way of subterfuge? She's a priestess, not a noble. What reason would Khalimat have? She doesn't want the crown. She's already beyond the reach of the sovereign as it stands."

"Exactly! She can do what she wishes—she only answers to the gods!"

"You're seeing conspiracies everywhere, you old goat. Get your head out of your ass!"

"This is preposterous—we need to send a team to the pass at Torc Waterfall to sit and wait. If she's headed north, it's the only way across the river. Otherwise she'd have to cross south at the mine route. Highly unlikely, in my opinion."

"Thankfully, no one's asked your opinion."

"Oh sod off, you little shite."

King Dominick Kenos closed his eyes. For a single, uninterrupted instant everything faded to a quiet, dark place. A glimmer of hope dwelled there, flickering like a candle on a drafty windowsill. When I open my eyes, I'll see Alyssa there. Her warm smile. That gorgeous golden hair. Those cunning eyes. My Queen.

When he did open his eyes, all that awaited was a dozen men bickering in the great hall. A tiresome sight he'd endured far too long. He glanced to the wolf skull helm and sword on the wall above the thrones. Until so recently he thought them a worthy trophy, a courageous symbol of his conquests. Now, as yet another day drew to a close with no further information, no hope of his wife's return, he knew that ragged Hudar garb was cursed.

"Are the men on the mine route well equipped in case of hostile engagement?"

"Of course they're well equipped—you think I'm stupid? You think this is my first campaign?"

"I'm just pointing out a weakness. We're spread too thin, almost a thousand miles west. At some point our luck will run out."

"And we'll deal with it. They're unorganized barbarians without Daskis' direction. Not to mention that it's rumored they winter in the north."

"Raven's going to miss the window before the passes freeze. She'll be lucky to make it south near the wastelands. Poor Alyssa isn't bred to deal with that sort of environment."

"May the gods watch over her."

"What if Raven hasn't even left Olisgard? What if she's been here the whole time, watching us run around like fools?"

"I still say she's dead."

"Enough!" Kenos slammed his fist on the table.

The room fell silent.

"What game the Hudar plays I cannot guess. I killed her leader, conquered her land, scattered her people. It's within reason she seeks to repay the favor somehow." Kenos paced the large table, hands clenched at his sides. "Will she rally what's left of the hoard? Will the gods be merciful and strike her down? Will we be fortunate enough to find her alive, drag her wretched soul to this very room so that I may add another skull to my cursed wall?" he roared. "Do not fill my halls with theories. I want truths. Facts. I can get gossip from the servants! Now get out of my sight!"

Wordlessly, the generals exited the great hall. "Not you," Kenos said as Captain Roberts made it to the doorway.

"Yes, your grace?"

Seating himself at the table, Kenos rubbed his temples. "What news of Melissah Rossario?"

The captain took a slow breath. "None. She's evaded capture. We haven't seen her once."

"This is just perfect. What a perfect kingdom I've come to rule. Look—look how wonderful everything is!" He slapped a goblet of wine across the table, spilling the vermillion liquid over the detailed map of the known world. "My father would roll over in his grave if he heard I'd let some barbarian woman steal my queen."

"Your grace," Captain Roberts said. "You've taken Norr beyond the realm of your father's capabilities. You and the queen have made this kingdom the most magnificent nation in this world. Do not short change yourself because you've run into some difficulties."

"Difficulties?" he blurted. "Having the Hudar run off with my queen isn't a difficulty—that's a bloody catastrophe! What will I say to Damien Norxis? Please excuse me, my lord. I'm terribly sorry, but your daughter has been captured by Hudar. How's the weather up in Northgate?"

"Nothing quite so blasé," Roberts said. "If he doesn't know already, which I find highly improbable, Lord Norxis will know that you didn't freely let anyone make off with your queen." Expression softening, he added, almost apologetically, "You love her."

Those three words were an avalanche of emotion, tightening his throat, strangling his heart. Kenos had never felt so helpless. So hindered—so foolish. How stupid of him to fall in love with a woman from a political union. It made him weak, predictable, an easy target for even the most unorganized and poorly supplied adversaries.

Turning away, he braced against the back of his chair and stared into oblivion. "Captain Roberts, it's moments like this that I wish you were wrong."

"I've a mind to think you're not the only one."

O.O.O.O.O

Freezing wind seared Alyssa's cheeks. She adjusted her headscarf and squinted into the blinding snow. Raven led the way across the mountain, her bay horse and worn black robes nearly invisible in the storm. They'd been on the run eleven long days, the last two spent following a goat path through the Targantis range, headed for the pass at Torc Waterfall.

Alyssa had gained a new respect for Mother Nature, having trudged through rain, sleet and snow on a seemingly endless climb. She hunched in the saddle, trying to stay close to what little body heat her stallion gave off. Her teeth chattered and the feeling had long since left her toes. It had been hours since they'd last rested, but she could barely sit up, let alone shout ahead to Raven. The Hudar was far better suited to this journey than she was.

Eventually the onslaught of snow tapered off and Alyssa blinked into the clear light of a narrow, terrifying canyon. Far in the distance, a cloud of moisture shrouded a roaring waterfall, half frozen. Their path clung to the side of a sheer rock face, and a thousand feet below, hidden beneath snow and ice, the glacial river cut through granite bedrock. Perilous didn't even begin to cover the situation.

Dizziness overcame her. She clutched her horse's mane. "I don't like this."

Raven turned in her saddle, dropping her hood to reveal a pale, wind-chapped face. "There's a cave up ahead, just before the waterfall. It leads to the valley beyond the mountain."

"We have to cross this monstrosity, then stumble through a cave? Is there no other way?"

"The other passes are long frozen over. It's this route or we turn back."

A warm bed sounded divine. As did a hot meal, clean clothes and a barrel of wine. After so long on the road, these desires surfaced with increasing frequency. But no amount of silken sheets would make up for Raven's absence, and heading back to Olisgard would guarantee that outcome.

Alyssa glanced to the icy river below and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Right, then. After you."

Raven cracked a rare smile. "I didn't know you feared heights."

"It's not the height. It's the very abrupt stop."

Raven's smaller mount had already proven the wiser choice of horses, and the gelding twined along the tiny path without hesitation. Alyssa's bulky stallion nervously followed, quivering like a foal.

"Awful lot of huffing back there," Raven called. "Is that beast all right?"

"Oh, we're fine. Just watching the life flash before our eyes, is all." But something caught her ear over Avarice's breathing. The clatter grew louder, until she recognized the cause: many shod hooves on stone. Looking over her shoulder, Alyssa spotted a single-file line of eight soldiers on horseback, racing along the canyon pass towards them. "Raven!"

The Hudar turned and caught sight of the men. "Stay right behind me, understood? Right behind me!" She heeled her horse and galloped for the waterfall, leaving them in the dust.

"Ja, ja!" Alyssa urged her stallion forward, trying to keep sight of the path between his ears while everything whirled past in a horrifying blur.

"Closer!" Raven shouted, three or four lengths ahead and gaining. The roar of the waterfall became overwhelming.

Each bumpy step sent a jolt straight through her aching bones, clacked her teeth and made her eyes water. Their frantic race along the fragile trail reverberated up the steep walls. Snow and rocks tumbled down on them. Alyssa ducked, scarcely avoiding a fist-sized stone that slammed into Avarice's shoulder. He balked and stumbled, nearly losing his footing. His sides heaved with the effort, and with each stride he lost speed.

"I know—I know you're tired. Come on, stay with them." She hunched low over the horse's neck, arms stretched forward, pumping with the momentum. Her heartbeat drowned out all other sound. Adrenaline flooded her veins, clouding her thoughts with an array of fears. Falling to her death. Capture. Raven falling to her death. Raven being captured. Which would be worse? She couldn't bear any of them.

"Alyssa!"

Up ahead, Raven's flailing robes vanished into the rock face. One moment there, the next—gone. What in the world?

Just as quickly, Raven appeared on the trail again, without her horse. She gestured at something, a wide crag in the canyon wall.

The cave. Alyssa tugged hard on the reins. Her mount dropped his haunches, slipping and sliding just soon enough to make the sharp turn into a narrow opening. Avarice skirted around the bay gelding, and Alyssa dismounted before he ground to a stop. She stumbled back to the path.

Her cloak and hair whipped in the updraft of moist, freezing air from the waterfall, a mere dozen yards away. She squinted through the mist, catching the glint of steel fast approaching along the canyon trail, now close enough to recognize. The lieutenant from the western gate at Olisgard, who'd bid them both a safe days ride, lead the line of galloping horses.

Panic cinched her throat. "Raven, what are you doing? Get back here—get on your horse!"

The Hudar planted her feet on the path, those dark tattered scarves flapping around her. "Don't move," she said.

Fear had already cemented Alyssa in place.

Raven lifted her left hand, as if offering something to the sky. An eerie black miasma danced around her fingers, made her robes billow and hair wisp against the wind. Her shoulders quivered with an invisible burden.

The soldiers were moments away, so close the lieutenant drew his sword in preparation. He shouted above the roar of the waterfall. "Witch!"

In one smooth motion, Raven tipped her hand, palm down, and swiped towards the ground.

The entire canyon wall fell in a terrible instant, taking the lieutenant and all the king's men with it. An avalanche of earth and snow rained into the canyon below, a cacophonous echo that boomed and crashed and cracked.

Settling snow revealed only a few paces of ground remaining in front of Raven's feet. The path had been obliterated, leaving behind a vertical rock face with no means of traveling. With the flick of her hand, the pass at Torc Waterfall existed no longer.

"You . . ." Alyssa was hesitant to step closer, and not just for fear the ground might crumble. "You really are a witch."

Raven turned, trembling, and stormed into the darkness of the cave.

"Wait, I didn't—" She cursed her poor wording and followed. "I meant—"

"There's no other way for your language to say it." In the dim light, Raven loosened her horse's girth and then dug through her saddlebags.

She felt awful. Raven had just killed eight men to keep them safe. The last thing she needed was criticism. Alyssa fiddled with her damp sleeve. With the adrenaline fading, her body reminded that she'd been cold far too long.

She looked back towards the waterfall. "Do all Hudar posses the skills to annihilate a mountain side?"

"No." Steel and flint sparked, and fire illuminated the narrow cave. Raven held a pine knot torch. "This light won't last long. We need to hurry." She grabbed her horse's reins and headed into the darkness.

Hurrying was the last thing she wanted to do. Sleep seemed the most prudent, but she marched after the woman, Avarice in tow. The brightness of the torch made the shadows even darker, and her view consisted of the silhouette of the backside of Raven's horse.

"How long is this cave?"

"If I recall correctly, a few hour's walk," Raven said.

"And how long will the torch last?"

"Half that, at best."

"Well. That's better than our usual odds, isn't it?"

Raven said nothing.

At least the cave was a touch warmer than the canyon. Maybe her clothes would dry out before they reached the other side. If they reached the other side. Alyssa stumbled over something and swore. This continued for some time—the click-clack of hooves on stone, her muttered obscenities and Raven's silence—until she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Is there something on your mind, Raven?"

"Of course," came her disembodied reply, echoing in the claustrophobia.

"Something specific to your abrupt mood change, likely related to the extraordinary act you carried out and my uncouth comment?"

"Not at all."

If only Raven could appreciate her scowl. "Is being disagreeable a trait of Za'hava or something exclusively Raven?"

"Couldn't say, as I'm neither Za'hava nor disagreeable."

"You know, from my perspective, you're literally speaking from a horse's ass. Let that sink in whilst you brood."

"Behold; another of my clandestine skills."

This tactic wasn't working. A more direct route of questioning was needed. "From what I've studied, Za'hava are the protectors of the Hudar. Brave warriors, unmatched on horseback and capable of surviving just about anywhere. How is that not an accurate description of you?"

"I've done nothing brave," Raven said.

"You're being facetious, yes?"

"I betrayed my kind for a meddling Norrian king, eager to add fame and glory to his accomplishments. I'm not Za'hava—I ruined my own people for nothing."

If only they weren't single file in this narrow passage, separated by a horse and warring perspectives. She wanted nothing more than to soothe away Raven's self-loathing.

"You were betrayed. From the moment you were stolen from Hudar and raised as a slave. Used and paraded around for the appeasement of sycophants. You survived the only way you could. Daskis' blood is on the king's hands, not yours."

The glow from the torch started to fade, with no sign of light at the end of the tunnel. Alyssa put her hand out in anticipation of running into the gelding.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Raven said.

"You've had me fooled this entire time, then. Well done."

"You betrayed your husband, king and country to follow me into the wilds. To be cold, wet, hungry and hunted by the largest army in the land. Why?"

A difficult question to answer, but one that deserved the honest truth. "I wanted to set you free but was terrified of losing you. Do you know what that's like?"

"I do," she said. "Like sira kavi."

The exchange without words. The language of the supposedly barbaric Hudar possessed a simple, poignant euphemism for the duality of love.

Alyssa's throat went dry. "You deserve to be loved, Raven. You deserve joy and warmth and self-worth. And if you have to burn a kingdom down to attain that, so be it. Because you deserve vengeance most of all."

The torch dimmed, now only a faintly glowing ember somewhere ahead that did nothing to light the way. Damn. Had they made it half way, at least? The sudden darkness left her seeing white spots. Would they get turned around and lost forever? How ironic would that be? Avarice stepped on the back of her boot.

She stumbled, cheek scraping the freezing cold rock wall. "Oww, you great oaf. Horses have better night vision than this." Wait. Colder meant closer to the surface. Her heart beat faster. "Raven? Are you still up there?"

"This way."

Alyssa followed her voice to the left. The echo of hooves lessened, and the white spots in her vision turned into snowflakes. She clambered up a steep slope, into pale moonlight, and blinked across a valley of white-capped evergreens. Sweet gods above and below, they'd officially crossed into the land of Hudar.

Raven lingered at the mouth of the cave, fiddling with her horse's saddle. Alyssa palmed the stoic woman's cheek and turned her head until Raven met her gaze. "Did you hear what I said, charming dark traveller?"

She pulled Alyssa into a fierce hug, face buried in the crook of her neck. "Thank you."

"You owe me no thanks," she murmured in Raven's ear. "Your heart will do."

"Is that all?"

"And maybe a pot of warm oats, if we've anything left."

"I'll make a fire."

"Speaking of." A tiny light flickered far across the valley, catching Alyssa's attention. She squinted. "Is that a camp fire?"

Raven turned, body language shifting to high alert. "I see it."

"Could that be your people?"

"I . . . I don't know," she said, but the hope in Raven's tone warmed Alyssa's chest like a glass of red wine.