Aven’s gaze, deep and dark in the dim light, swept up and down me. My pulse fluttered. “You’re alright?”
I nodded and, when he turned, pressed my palm to my dress, as if that would wipe away the lingering warmth.
Moray was already ahead of us, a shadow and gray striped ghost gliding through the rocks, landing on an outcrop that’d created a dry, covered shelter. “It looks like rain,” it announced.
I tilted my head up to the sky; the stars beginning to creep out were faint, obscured by murky clouds rolling closer. I hurried after Aven. It would be a rough night.
The sky opened up before the moon had fully risen, leaving us with shadows and the glimmer of falling rain to watch as we ate. Aven described to me the path we would take: through the rocky lands and another forest before we’d reached the edge of the Dragon Court’s territory. The danger from here would increase, he claimed, as the Whispering Court was far less welcoming than the Court of the Sun.
I kept quiet throughout the small meal, my mind replaying their comments. I knew Moray meant to get under my skin, and I knew Aven didn’t think of me as a burden—or I believed he didn’t. He hadn’t acted like it since those first few days in the empty village. But it gnawed in my chest and the back of my mind.
I was human. Compared to them, I was fragile, mortal, defenseless. They had to go out of their way to protect me from their world because I couldn’t do it myself. Aven was forever warning me and saving me, watching out for dangers I couldn’t face.
I’d even failed at hunting. I could passably find something to eat at home, but here Aven and Moray had done it every time. I rolled Tobin’s bow through my hands after Moray had settled into a crook of darkness for the night and Aven had turned to tending our fire, ensuring it would burn through the night despite the rain. I stared out at the rain flashing past, turning the rocks into a thousand tiny mirrors.
I couldn’t do things the way they could. I couldn’t help them the way I should. I was here to save my brother, and yet I couldn’t protect myself long enough to reach them. I needed to rely on Aven.
Pathetic.
I didn’t sleep. For the first time Aven was asleep before me. Unlike in the forest nothing prowled outside the reach of our fire, held back by it but watching for a chance to attack. As far as I could see was silent and lifeless.
The rain had stopped, the clouds drifting away to reveal the moon high in the sky, when I took Tobin’s bow and crawled out of our shelter.
Beyond the crackling of the flames there was silence. A heavy, peaceful silence, like a blanket across the world. No bugs swarmed, no night predators stalked their prey. Nothing at all but the sky and the moon and the rocks and the endless white noise in the air.
I crept out a few paces further from where Aven and Moray slept. Nothing. I slung the quiver across my back, keeping every movement silent. I wasn’t sure I would find anything, but I had to look. I needed to see if I could do this—as if maybe if I caught something I could prove I wasn’t useless to this mission. Moray would stop bugging me, and Aven would stop stepping in to protect me at every slight sign of possible danger.
I didn’t mind that he wanted to protect me. He’d said he would until his debt was paid, whatever happened. But I needed to know that if he chose to stop, or if he couldn’t, I wouldn’t die because of it. That I could protect myself.
Besides, if I was going to save Tobin I needed to know what I was doing, with Aven or without. I needed to know the land, the animals. What came out when, what to avoid, what was safe. I needed to survive.
I closed my eyes, imagining if Tobin were in my shoes. If the roles were reversed. He would be so much better at this than me.
Don’t think about that. That didn’t matter. The roles weren’t reversed; he was there and I was here, and that was that. That was what I had to work with and what I would work with. What I would win with.
From somewhere far off came a sound like a low, mournful howl, and the cold of the night crept up my spine. I was used to summer clinging to the night air, but here the warmth vanished with the sun and my distance from the fire.
The rocks rolled under my feet, uneven and unsteady, and I kept each step cautious and careful, searching for a safe spot before putting my weight on it. Just in case. I could imagine falling down these hills, tearing my skin open on the rocks, breaking bones, and unable to get back up.
There were no animals in sight. Not a bird passing through the sky above. Nothing at all. I continued my search. Looking for a pawprint or a rocky den. Nothing, and the rocks began to give way to mud and weeds. I glanced behind me, searching for the spot that marked our camp, to ensure I knew the way back when I was done. I could see the distant flickering light of the fire.
Above me a shadow passed, and I looked up to watch a bird soar overhead and vanish among the rock cliffs in the distance. Perhaps returning home to its nest with a meal for its young. What kind of birds called this world home? Clearly, ones unlike any I could imagine. In the dark I couldn’t hope to see anything but the sleek silhouette of it.
Another step further from Aven and protection. More silence. On and on, until at last a flicker of movement caught my eye. I turned toward it, holding my breath. A tiny shape crawled from the rocks, sniffling along the ground. Gray and brown fur lit up in the weak light. I drew an arrow, every movement as quiet as I could, but not enough. By the time I had nocked the arrow, the little creature’s ears swiveled toward me, and it bolted into the shadows. I sighed and lowered the bow, watching for more. At least now I knew there was something to hunt.
Another bird flew above and I watched its sleek, graceful glide. Too large to hunt and too far away. Maybe there was nothing worth hunting that showed itself at night.
I turned to go back but paused. The breath left me in a rush, my eyes glued to what stood before me, tugging at a weed growing between two rocks. My mind wanted to call it a stag at first—it shared the sleek, muscled build and towering horns of one. But its legs were sturdier, its cloven hooves sure and strong, built to navigate the rocky climbs. Its pelt was a soft stony gray color but glowed under the moonlight, like a silver statue. Even the leaves caught in its antlers, draping down like scarves, glistened. Despite how close I was, it paid me no mind, head bent to the ground.
My lessons with Tobin advised me to draw an arrow, to take advantage of it. It stood before me like a gift. But I couldn’t. All I could do was stare at it. It wasn’t game; it was beautiful and tranquil and trusting.
Wind whipped past me as something flew through the air inches from my face. My heart stopped. The ethereal stag dropped with a cry.
Not my arrow driven into its side.
More came, embedding themselves into its neck and legs, and I ducked. I hadn’t seen any sign of other tidespeople since coming across Moray; I hadn’t expected to before we were further into the Whispering Court, at least. The merrows swam into my mind, and I bolted toward the light of the fire, leaving the stag behind. If whoever these hunters were wanted it they could have it.
The world spun around me as something snagged at my ankle, pulling me off balance. The starry sky and the wet ground flew in a dizzying spiral across my vision, and my chin struck the rocks. The tang of blood flooded my mouth. I scrambled in the first second, trying to get to my feet, but one leg was caught in the air and twisted at an awkward angle, pulling at my joints.
A snare.
I spat out every curse I knew, and didn’t care how shocked Papa might be at hearing them, and flung my hands around, searching for my knife. I twisted my head to search for it and saw the gleam of metal on the ground past my feet. It had fallen from my boot, well out of reach.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should never have left on my own.
Cracking footsteps approached from behind, and I squeezed my eyes closed. What kind of tidespeople were these hunters? Would they realize I was a human who had mistakenly wandered into their hunting ground and let me go? I had little hope of it.
&n
bsp; I forced a slow breath, clearing my head. If I could get out of the snare I might be able to find a way out of this, but that was unlikely. Tobin had taught me nothing more than the basics of how one worked. I fought off the instinct to pull at it, lying still and catching my breath. At the very least I could keep it from getting any tighter.
I watched the first booted feet come into view and with a shaking breath pushed myself up on my elbows to see better. Several men stopped around me, staring down with expressions of confusion and surprise. They were shorter and stockier than Aven, their skin a bluish shade turned midnight-dark by the shadows, and most sported long, tangled dark hair and beards decorated with feathers and beads. They wore patches of leather and furs, and each carried a bow or spear. Behind them more surrounded the stag, bending over it to tear their arrows free.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to choke out. “I didn’t mean to fall into your snare. I was leaving.”
One of the men crouched beside me, grabbing my chin in one rough, calloused hand. I resisted the urge to pull away. His breath sent the smell of old meat rolling over me as he grinned, revealing fangs far larger and more solid than Moray’s. “What is a human like you doing here?” His voice grated along my ears.
I swallowed the terror clogging my throat. “I was hunting, but you can have it. If you’ll let me down I’ll go.”
He reached over, lifting Tobin’s bow from where I’d dropped it, and I stopped myself from demanding him to put it down. He studied the smooth arc before asking, “Is this yours?” I could only nod. “Where did you get it?”
“The Court of Bells,” I lied. I had no idea if that would even make sense, but Moray had been vicious about the idea of going there. Maybe it was a dangerous place.
But he laughed and flicked the tip of my nose with one finger. My skin crawled. “No bows in the Court of Bells, human.” He gave the bow another glance, tilting his head, and then passed it off to one of the others. “We’ll enjoy it, wherever it comes from.” And with that he straightened up, turning away. The others shuffled after him.
I tugged my trapped leg again, twisting to watch them. “Give it back! It’s not yours!” They ignored me. “No! Let me down, I’ll—” I wasn’t sure what I’d been planning to finish that sentence with, but I never got the chance: the snare loosened, and my leg fell to the ground, my bruises stinging with the impact. I scrambled to my feet, but the instant they were steady, two more men grabbed my arms and twisted them behind me.
I thrashed against them, pulling, but their fingers were set like stone. They pushed me ahead, the way they’d come, and my feet fumbled over the uneven ground. “Let me go! I haven’t done anything to you! Let me go!”
Their leader laughed at my protests. “You’re a funny human, you are.”
I raised my voice, letting it pierce through the air. “Let me go! Aven!” Moray had been right, I was useless to them. I needed them or I’d die here.
The leader paused and the others followed suit. “Who are you calling for, girl? Who’s come with you?”
I forced myself to meet his dark eyes, putting all the venom I could into my voice. “A selkie and a sprite. And they’ll kill all of you if they find me gone.”
“Will they, now?” He cocked his head, thinking, and then continued. “Let them come.”
And they pulled me forward again. I kicked and bucked against their hold and dug my feet into the ground, but they struck the back of my head to knock me forward. I screamed my throat raw, but they kept going, ignoring me as if the fight I gave was as difficult as that of the dead stag they carried beside me. More than once I fell to my knees, hitting my legs against the rocks or sliding into the mud. They pulled me up and continued.
We were heading deep into the rocky hills when the wind heightened. I closed my eyes, listening to it like it was a song. Hoping against hope that it was more than just the storm returning. The men didn’t notice it.
“My selkie will kill all of you,” I repeated, raising my voice again. They ignored me. “He’ll know I’m gone any minute now, if he doesn’t already, and he will know where you’re taking me.” Please, Aven. Please.
The wind rushed past, roaring in my ears. There was a half-uttered scream that cut off too fast, and the entire pack stopped. For a long moment, there was silence, and I twisted my head to look at my captors. Two held me, two hauled the stag, their leader walked at the front, and six others walked scattered between and behind.
Five.
I counted again. Five unoccupied hunters where there should have been six.
The five readied their weapons, realizing this seconds before I did.
There was a horrible tearing and gagging sound in my ear, and something too warm for comfort sprayed across the back of my neck and shoulder. Nausea churned my stomach again as the grip on my right arm vanished.
The other man holding me yanked me around sharp enough I almost fell to the ground, my back pressed against his chest. The cold blade of a knife skimmed my throat, and my heart stopped. I couldn’t stop a sound between a gasp and a sob from escaping. Before us stood Aven, teeth bared and the bloody spear of one of the dead men aimed at the tidesperson who held me now.
His voice was low and dangerous. “Let her go, return to your village, and forget tonight, or every man here dies.”
The leader watched him, ready for a fight the second Aven made another move. “We caught her. She’s ours, by the law of the land.”
“She’s human: she’s no one’s to catch.”
“Perhaps not in your Court, but you find yourselves in ours.”
I kept my gaze on Aven, struggling to breathe. His eyes flicked to me, melting into silent reassurance. “Hania,” he said, analyzing the men around us, every inch of his surroundings. Calculating, planning. “Did you step into their hunting ground?”
It took several tries to answer him, my voice meek. “I didn’t know it was a hunting ground.”
“Her ignorance does not excuse the law,” the leader growled.
“As a human from across the barrier, here under my protection, it does,” Aven snarled. “No more of your men’s blood needs to be shed. I want nothing else from you. Let her go and it’s over.”
“Indeed, no more of our blood.” He nodded, a flick of his chin toward his men.
There was the flash and clang of metal and stone and a rush of movement I couldn’t follow. I thought I shouted Aven’s name, but I couldn’t be sure; the man holding me shoved me aside, and I hit the ground hard, jarring my senses. I rolled through the mud before I caught myself and clawed my way upright. My vision was tilted but I saw Aven’s lithe form surrounded by the others. Red and silver and blue danced.
I caught my breath and watched. Every one of Aven’s movements were like liquid, lightning-fast and practiced; the spear was his weapon of choice, no doubt why he’d taken it. But that didn’t mean he could survive outnumbered like this. I raked my brain, searching for something, anything, to help him. I’d lost my knife and my bow; I was down to fighting with my hands if I needed to, and I knew how well that would work.
I could run. Go back and find Moray and hope Aven could hold his own until we returned.
The wind grew again, howling around us, and the moonlight dimmed. A storm. If he could break the neck of the sellye with a hard change in the wind maybe it could help him here, too.
But I knew even if he could manage it, he couldn’t do it to all of them. He needed help.
I grabbed the first thing my eyes landed on, a large, jagged rock near my feet, and lifted it. It was heavy and slick in my palm, but better than being empty-handed, and I clutched it as I watched the flurry of weapons and bodies before me. They were ignoring me in favor of Aven. It was my chance.
I threw the rock at the nearest hunter’s head, putting every shaking ounce of strength in my arm into it.
The crack it made when it struck was sickening, and his head flew a terrible, wrong angle as he staggered toward the ground. But he was still o
n his feet, if dazed, and dark eyes were turning on me.
And then I was running again.
All I needed was to get a few of them away from Aven. Distract them. Then he could take care of the rest.
My feet slid on the rocks. The raindrops that began to fall felt like needles. Behind me, Aven shouted something that was whipped away by the wind.
Fingers clamped down on my arms. Something rolled under my feet and the ground was rising at me again.
I braced for the fall, but they hauled my arms back. Stars popped in my vision, then there was nothing.
The first thing that came to me was the ache in my head. Not the dull pounding of a regular headache, but a stabbing pain like a blade being driven into my temple from the inside. It echoed through me, down to my abused knees, in waves that pulled a groan before I could even gather the strength to lift my head. When I forced my eyes open, my vision was blurred and blinking to clear it was a difficult task.
My memory was too scrambled to put together why I was waking with a piercing headache in a dim room. Where were Aven and Moray? What had happened to our shelter under the outcrop?
I’d gone hunting.
The bow—Tobin’s bow.
And then the night flooded back to me in a burning rush. The hunters. Their leader, with his cold laugh and rough hands. Aven putting a spear through the throat of the man restraining me. Running. Then…nothing.
I moved one arm, testing it. Nothing felt or looked broken. Thank the gods. I touched my fingertips to my throbbing temple, sucking in a sharp breath at the spike of pain that went through me. They came away bloody. I couldn’t remember anything beyond a spiraling chaos of movement before I’d fallen. The blood was clotted around the wound but wet; I hadn’t been unconscious long.
That was a good thing, wasn’t it? It meant wherever I was, it couldn’t be too far from where Aven had caught up to me. Less than a night’s travel from our camp.
What to do next?
Tide Page 17
