Mac Gillen’s fist slammed into the side of her face and she flew backward, colliding with the stone wall of the cave. She lay there stunned for a few moments, swallowing blood from her bitten tongue, half expecting Gillen to come and finish her. But he didn’t. Finally, she lifted herself upright, propping herself against the wall to keep from falling over.

Gillen still lived, though he probably wouldn’t for long. The sergeant lay sprawled on his back on the floor of the cave, breathing wetly, an expression of sick bewilderment on his face, blood bubbling on his lips. He’d managed to yank out Raisa’s dagger, and it lay next to him, caked with blood and dirt.

She recalled what Cuffs Alister had said a lifetime ago: Next time you go to stab someone, do it quick. Don’t study on it so long.

He’d be proud, she thought. She hadn’t hesitated with the blade, and she’d struck true. Was this progress—that a street killer would be proud of her?

And then she knelt on the floor of the cave and heaved out her midday meal. After, she cleaned out her mouth with a fistful of snow.

That’s all right, she thought. Killing should never come easy, not even for a warrior princess.

Gillen finally lay quiet, his eyes wide and fixed.

Retrieving her dagger, Raisa wiped it clean in the snow at the cave’s entrance. She restored it to its sheath and tucked it into her breeches. She forced herself to search Gillen, hoping for clues or proofs of who’d hired him, but found nothing of consequence. A purse with a few coppers and crowns, and a hip flask—that was it.

It was unlikely he’d be carrying that kind of evidence anyway. What did she expect, a death warrant from the queen her mother? A scribbled note from Gavan Bayar? These were the kinds of orders that were whispered in the dark corners of the world.

Her head pounded and her right eye would no longer open properly. She pressed a fistful of snow against the side of her face, hoping it would reduce the swelling. All the while she tried to ignore the small voice that whispered, What’s the use? You may as well surrender. You are totally alone now, and these hills are filled with your enemies. What was it Byrne had said? Well fed, well mounted, and well armed. And you have a dagger against them.

Recalling Gillen’s concern about being interrupted, she knew she had to go, and quickly. Their trail would be easy enough to follow. Gillen’s comrades might arrive at any moment.