Bluewing by Kate Avery Ellison Read Free Book Online Page B

twisting his wrist gently to the left and lowering his ear to the lock. “They’re right, you know. We can’t keep living this way. We need a better location. The Farthers are starving the town, and we are hanging on by our fingernails out here. If we can work together to drive them away, we should.”
    I faced him and took a deep breath. “I want the farm back, Jonn.”
    His eyelashes flickered, and I knew he did, too. He straightened and set down the tool.
    “We’ll get it,” he promised me.
    I didn’t share his hope.
     
    ~
     
    I crouched at the edge of the wall of forest that separated the Frost from civilization. With shaking fingers, I moved a snow-covered branch and peered through the hole in the foliage that I’d made. Across a yard blanketed with snow, I saw it.
    My family’s farm.
    Footprints crisscrossed the yard, trampling a muddy path from the front door to the barn. The paddock held three horses with shaggy coats and droopy heads. Faintly, I heard the sound of laughter drift on the wind.
    Something hot and furious brewed in my stomach.
    “What is this place?” Arla whispered from where she knelt beside me. “I thought we were supposed to be checking traps.”
    “It’s my family’s farm,” I said. “My home.”
    “Oh.” She breathed the word reverently, because the idea of home ignited a worshipful feeling in all of us these days. “I remember it now. I came here before the gate.”
    “Stay here.” I shoved back the branches and stepped through the perimeter of trees into the yard. My heart pounded a sick rhythm against my ribs, making me dizzy, but I didn’t stop until I’d reached the whitewashed walls of the farmhouse. I inched along the side until I reached a window. Moving so slowly that my muscles screamed in protest, I lifted my head and peered through the glass.
    The curtains were only half-drawn, so I could see into the main room. The furniture was all in disarray—my ma’s chair was shoved against the wall, and the other chairs drawn close to the fire. Pairs of muddy boots lay around the hearth, and someone’s socks were strewn across the floor.
    My throat squeezed.
    As I watched, a man stepped into view. He rubbed a hand through his tangled hair and scratched beneath one arm. He wore an unbuttoned gray coat with brass buttons.
    Farther soldiers were living in my family’s farmhouse.
    I shivered with rage. My pulse throbbed in my ears, and my hands were clenched so tightly into fists that my fingernails dug into my palms through my gloves. I dropped back into a crouch and crept back along the wall.
    “What is it?” Arla asked when I reached her again. “Is something wrong?”
    I shook my head, unable to articulate the storm building inside me. “Let’s just keep going. We have to check the traps.”
    We pushed through the web of branches obscuring the path, moving gingerly around jutting rocks and fallen limbs. Flashes of blue filled my vision as we passed banks of snow blossoms growing wild. Their scent perfumed the air and tickled my nose. Beside me, Arla sneezed.
    I paused. The birds had fallen silent. Was it our passage that frightened them, or something else? The skin on the back of my neck crawled.
    Arla craned her neck to see around us. “Did you hear—?”
    A gunshot rang out, and Arla cried aloud. “Lia!”
    Soldiers .
    I swung around, scanning the trees, but I saw nothing except the wet black of branches and the blinding white of snow. No flutters of gray. No glint of weapons.
    “Lia,” Arla said again.
    “Run,” I gritted out.
    I grabbed her arm and pushed her forward, following behind her, scrambling into the cover of the trees and up a snow-crusted bank. It had to be a patrol like I’d seen before, the one looking for Gabe. We must have stumbled across one of their circuits by mistake. We had to double back, disguise our tracks, take the long way to Echlos. We couldn’t lead them to the others.
    “This way,” I hissed. “We’ll head west and