A Lair of Bones

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A Lair of Bones Page 12

by Helen Scheuerer


  ‘Breathe,’ he told her. ‘I want to live through this, remember?’

  Oddly, it was those words that brought a wave of calm washing over her. He was right – this was exactly what the damn Jaktaren wanted from her; she was playing directly into his hands. With a swift nod at the human, she straightened. As she did, the atmosphere changed. A cool gust of wind swept across the stands and the marshalling area, creating a shiver through the canopy of the forest.

  Queen Delja had arrived, her great wings open to their full expanse as she landed gracefully on a small platform by the Council of Seven Elders. She surveyed them all, as though time stood still until she said otherwise. Her eyes scanned the competitors and their humans, before turning back to the heaving crowd. Her crowned head was held high, her back straight, even beneath the weight of her wings, now tucked neatly behind. There was no trace of the vulnerable cyren from the prison whose words had been thick with sadness. Here stood the queen of Saddoriel and beyond.

  ‘Welcome, all.’ Somehow enchanted, Queen Delja’s melodic voice projected to the far reaches of the stands, where each cyren hung onto her every word. ‘Some of you have come a long way to watch our competitors today. This trial is simple. A number of beasts from all over the realms have been released into the forest before us. The competitors must capture a beast for the victor’s feast tonight. The more meat a competitor contributes to the feast, the better their chance at success. Each competitor must decide how and what they wish to hunt. The last four to complete the hunt, or return, or those who fail to bring back a sizeable bounty, will be eliminated. As will those whose humans are maimed or do not survive.’

  Roh couldn’t swallow the thick lump in her throat. Lives were at stake here, not just reputations. There was no doubt that the hunt itself wouldn’t be the only challenge within the forest.

  ‘When the hourglass turns, the competitors may enter. When the sand stops, the trial is over. Cyrens of Saddoriel, honoured guests, let us hope it is a trial worthy of your travels.’

  The crowd erupted in excited chatter, the sound near deafening, their energy pulsing across the stands and the forest. Roh could no longer hear the music playing in the background now – the intensity of the impending trial was too great. Shouldering the bulky pack at her feet and tugging Odi’s sleeve, Roh followed the other competitors, backing away from the edge of the forest so they could see the hourglass above.

  Her mind was racing. No doubt the more valuable game is at the heart of the forest, while the easier catches are on the outskirts. If she caught something early and guaranteed her safe return to the queen, she risked being eliminated by better bounties. If she passed up a smaller creature in the hopes of capturing a larger one, she would be in the forest longer. And who knows what lurks in the shadows in there … But Roh was here to win. She would have to use all the tricks up her sleeve, but she was here. She already knew she was willing to do whatever it took.

  Around her, the other competitors were being wished well by friends and family. A petite cyren in a Mid Sector army uniform threw herself at Yrsa Ward, and to Roh’s surprise, the Jaktaren’s expression softened as she embraced the cyren, burying her face in the crook of her neck before pulling back to kiss her firmly on the mouth.

  So, she’s not with Finn Haertel, then, Roh mused, tearing her eyes away from the couple’s farewell as she and the others were ushered into their positions.

  As they were led to their starting points, it became abundantly clear who the favourites were. Applause erupted as Estin Ruhne was shown her position. The crowd screamed, some even throwing sea blooms onto the arena floor. Estin bowed her head in gratitude, giving her fans a small wave before turning to face the trees, resting her spear against her shoulder.

  The noise died down as Neith’s name was called and she was shown to her spot beside Estin. Roh had to stop herself from grimacing; she was next and would receive no such reception, either. It was oddly quiet as she and Odi followed Elder Colter to their entrance. Roh held her head high. They would be cheering for her before long, she vowed. But her vows were forgotten as the arena erupted once more. She didn’t have to turn back to know whom they were cheering for.

  A little further along, Finn Haertel took his position alongside his human. The cheers continued as Yrsa Ward joined Roh at her point of entry. Roh couldn’t help sizing her up. Yrsa was shorter than most cyrens, stockier, and as with most of their kind, it was difficult to tell how old she was. Her raven hair was cut straight at her shoulders and her white-lashed lilac eyes met Roh’s as she checked the cord of her sling and the satchel of stones her human carried.

  Roh tightened the straps of her pack, envying the sheer confidence it took to only bring a sling into a trial like this.

  The excited murmurs of the crowd fell silent all at once and the competitors’ heads snapped upwards, all eyes alert. Roh followed their gazes. This is it. I am about to enter the first trial of the Queen’s Tournament. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Above the canopy, the hourglass turned.

  Chapter Nine

  When the first grain of sand hit the bottom of the hourglass, the crowd erupted. Roh surged forward, rushing past the outer trees of the forest’s edge, only glancing briefly behind to make sure Odi was at her heels. The trees became dense immediately, the branches tugging at her clothes and scratching at her exposed skin. Either side of her, she heard the other competitors thrashing through the undergrowth, all too aware of their proximity. How long until the sabotage began? How long until the hunters became the hunted? She needed to put as much distance between them as possible.

  But Roh had to slow her pace as the forest swallowed them, and she and Odi began weaving through the thin trunks and rows of enchanted kelp that reached well above their heads. Eerily, the plants fluttered as they did when they were underwater, as though they had been bewitched to believe they still were. If there had been time, Roh would have stopped to explore the exquisite place, but the glowing hourglass hovering overhead was a stark reminder that there was not a minute to spare. Odi crept along beside her, ducking under low-hanging branches and scanning their surroundings, his jaw clenched and his amber eyes alert.

  ‘You have your token?’ Roh checked again, her own skin prickling as the magic of the forest settled around them.

  The human patted his chest, where beneath the laces of his shirt, the shell token rested against his sternum.

  ‘Good. Keep it safe,’ she told him, her eyes on Yrsa, whom she could still see through the trees to their left. Roh and Odi remained within sling range, but Yrsa didn’t so much as glance in their direction, and soon she turned, she and her human disappearing behind a towering column of red coral. Around them, the other competitors were doing the same – peeling away from the group to find their own paths through the strange, uneven forest. While Roh had no love for her fellow competitors, her intuition screamed that they were safer in numbers, that there was something inherently eerie about this forest. The quiet groan of the trees and the rustling of leaves made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She fought the irrational impulse to break into a run and reached within for her inner compass. It had never failed to guide her through the winding passageways of Saddoriel, and this forest would be no different. She could trust in that at least.

  She stopped short. The cyren instinct that usually served her so well was quiet within. There was no pull or hint in any direction. She dug deeper inside herself, searching wildly.

  Odi stopped, brow furrowed in concern. ‘What is it?’

  Roh rubbed the bridge of her nose, staring through the trees ahead. ‘I … I don’t know which way.’

  ‘There is no one way,’ he said bluntly. ‘It’s a forest.’

  The stupid human knew nothing of cyrens.

  The hum of the crowd had long ago faded, as had the music, but the forest had its own rhythm. A nearby bush rustled, leaves falling from its branches. It was enough to wrench Roh from her concern
s and force her onward. It wasn’t until they were well away from the bush that she realised she should have checked to see if it had been an animal.

  Fool, she chastised herself; she wasn’t thinking clearly. She and Odi stayed close, their shoulders brushing as they inched deeper into the forest, leaf litter sliding beneath their boots, the terrain becoming rugged and uneven. Glancing up at the hourglass, which glowed through the canopy for all to see, Roh tried to tame the sense of urgency that thrummed desperately within her. There were two parts to the strategy she had come up with, but in order to put either in place, she and Odi needed to be at the heart of the forest, where all manner of beast, cyren and human would prowl, so she pushed them on, quickening their pace.

  When they stumbled upon the first glade, Roh couldn’t contain her gasp. Across the damp forest floor sprouted dense hubs of glowing coral. The plants reached her hip and pulsed in an array of bright colours. She had never seen flora like it. Her skin prickled and she resisted the impulse to touch it, just. She smacked Odi’s hand away as he attempted to do exactly that. ‘Who knows what dangers these hold,’ she said.

  It was clear Odi had barely registered her words, he was so mesmerised. ‘What is this place?’ he breathed.

  Checking that her human’s token was indeed safely fastened around his neck, Roh scanned the coral warily. ‘I thought it was a regular water forest, one of many used to circulate air throughout our lair, but …’ She sniffed the air, and when the cool, briny scent hit her nostrils, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. ‘We’re close to the sea,’ she said, more to herself than to Odi. ‘Which means the warlock magic used to create this forest is also drawing power from the currents. That’s why there is flora from both the land and seabed.’

  ‘I thought you said there were no more water warlocks?’

  ‘There aren’t.’

  ‘Then how can you use their magic?’

  She sidestepped the hubs of coral and beckoned to Odi to follow. ‘Some of their magic remains behind … I don’t know how exactly. Cyrens can still use their healing potions, and the original enchantments of the lair still stand.’ She nodded to his talisman. ‘Then there’s token magic, but it’s nothing like it was before.’

  Across the glade were shoulder-height trees, the thin branches spread out like a lace fan, intricate and beautiful, glowing a light rose-pink hue.

  I wonder how long this has all been here, Roh thought, feeling dazed. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at the colours, trying to find a clue as to where the portal to the sea was hidden. Any sense of urgency within her was quelled, as though a soothing balm had been applied. The hairs on her arms stood up.

  ‘We’re falling for its trap,’ she murmured, feeling the glow of the trees on her skin.

  ‘What?’ Odi asked, equally disoriented.

  ‘This obstacle belongs to the council,’ she said, wrenching herself from the trance. Purpose suddenly surging through her, Roh pulled the pack higher onto her back. ‘Follow me,’ she said, taking comfort in the sturdy boots at her feet and leading them on from the glowing trees. When they were once again amongst the dense boles of the trees, Roh looked up to the canopy. Through the leaves she could see the hourglass, its sand spilling slowly into its lower half.

  ‘Can you tell how much longer?’ she asked Odi, as the dream-like feeling ebbed away.

  The human squinted at the hourglass. ‘At the rate the sand’s falling … Two hours? Maybe three?’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘I can’t know for sure, but no more than that, I’d say.’

  ‘Gods,’ Roh muttered.

  ‘I’m not sure they’ll be much help here,’ Odi said darkly. ‘We haven’t seen a single animal. We’re not even close to catching one. We’re dead, Roh.’

  Gritting her teeth, Roh grabbed his arm, letting her talons slide out slightly to press against his skin. ‘Pull yourself together,’ she hissed. ‘You and I are in this now, like it or not.’

  ‘Not. I don’t like it at all.’

  Roh felt her nostrils flare and her talons unsheathed a touch more. ‘You don’t have to like it. You just have to survive it.’ She released his arm, and ignoring his stunned expression, started off again. They moved quickly through the forest, with Roh making fast decisions despite the ache of her missing inner compass. She followed the scent of salt in the air – turning whenever it became stronger. There was no music here, but the forest seemed to sing its own song, the limbs of the trees swaying to a rhythm inaudible to Roh and Odi.

  She paused, swinging the pack around to her front. ‘We start here.’

  Odi turned back to her, frowning. ‘Start what?’

  ‘I’m a bone cleaner,’ she said, ‘not a hunter.’

  ‘Well, that’s awfully reassuring.’ Odi crossed his arms over his chest, resting his half-gloved fingers in the crooks of his elbows.

  ‘What I mean is that my hunting skills, and yours, I might add, won’t be enough. So we need something else, too, a contingency plan.’ She retrieved a satchel from the pack, and from within it carefully removed a bracelet. It was a dainty thing: a silver chain with charms dangling from its links. ‘Remember this?’ she asked, holding it up for Odi.

  He took it from her. ‘Yes,’ he said through clenched teeth. It was one of several items she’d instructed him, against his wishes, to steal from the other humans the day before. Roh had shown him several sleight-of-hand manoeuvres she’d learned over the years and had been pleased to find Odi a natural. In the dining hall, in the pulley system, she’d encouraged him to relieve his fellow humans of their stupidly shiny sentimental trinkets. Odi’s objections had mattered little to Roh.

  Now, she tugged on a pair of thick leather gloves, before carefully searching another pocket in the pack. Very delicately, she took out a rag and a small vial containing a diluted extract of the coral larkspur from Odi’s gala wine. Wetting the rag with several drops of the liquid, Roh took the bracelet from Odi and rubbed the rag all over it, careful not to let the soiled material anywhere near her skin. One wrong move would be all it took. She placed the jewellery deliberately on the ground in plain sight; it glinted in the thin beams of light shining down.

  ‘That’s not for an animal,’ Odi murmured.

  ‘No, it’s not.’ She’d known for some time that she’d have to do things like this, that she would do things like this, if called for. For as long as she could remember, this tournament – this victory – had been everything.

  A rustle sounded. Tiny feet scurried across the leaf litter and the companions froze, listening. It sounded again, and Roh shook her head at Odi’s excited expression. ‘Whatever it is, it’s too small,’ she said, tugging his arm.

  ‘Better small than nothing,’ Odi said, his eyes betraying that he doubted her decisions and sense of direction.

  With a scowl to rival Harlyn’s, Roh didn’t reply. He was wrong. If they caught a creature that was too small, it would be the same as catching nothing, and she had no intention of leaving the tournament early. She pushed on, following the briny air and the cold and damp. The Lower Sector of Saddoriel had been a lifelong lesson in what the deep and dark felt like. She would get them to the heart of the forest.

  As they walked, something ahead caught her eye and she squinted. Something was lying on the ground. Roh approached with trepidation, her boots sinking into what had become mud beneath her. It was a quiver of arrows – the very same that had been strapped to Finn’s back earlier. Half the arrows were scattered in the dirt, dry leaves caught in the fletching. A smile broke across Roh’s face. So, the arrogant bastard isn’t faring as well as he thought he would. This filled her with glee. She reached down to pick up the quiver —

  A strange whistling noise sounded. A jagged dagger-sized piece of coral came shooting through the air towards her like an arrow. Her cheek stung as she was wrenched roughly from its path. She staggered into Odi’s arms, heart pounding as she touched her fingers to her cheek. They came away bl
oody.

  ‘What in the …?’ she panted, straightening and looking from the blood on her fingertips to Odi. ‘How did you know?’

  He pointed to the ground, where a trip wire was revealed. ‘I saw it a second too late.’

  Roh’s armpits were damp with sweat as she examined the almost-deadly piece of coral that now swung uselessly on a cord before them and the discarded quiver of arrows.

  ‘That Haertel bastard,’ she spat as the blood trickled down her face. She tore a strip of fabric from her shirt and dabbed at it, amazed at the violent red against the white linen. For a moment, she pictured how her face might have looked had Odi not pulled her out of the way … In the place of a thin cut, there would have been a bloody pulp. She cursed Finn, but it was really herself she was furious at. She’d let her guard slip, and amidst her own desire to win, she’d forgotten whom she was dealing with. And now she owed her life, or at least her face, to the human beside her. That stopped now. She couldn’t bring herself to thank Odi. Instead, she swung the pack from her shoulder once more and crouched, digging deep to find what she’d requested from Orson and Harlyn.

  ‘He won’t be far from here,’ she said, weighing the bulky pouch in her palm. Her friends had done an excellent job. It was exactly what she had asked of them; the pieces within were sharp enough to poke through the fabric, jabbing at her skin. They had swept the workshop floor at her request, but had also sifted through their findings, selecting only the sharpest, strongest splinters of bone. Roh had then painted them with a sticky substance that hardened when dry, ensuring that the pieces could pierce the sturdiest of boots, even those of the Jaktaren.

  ‘What are you doing? You don’t mean to go after him?’

  Roh got to her feet and tore another strip from her shirt, smeared it with more blood from her cheek and dropped it on the ground. ‘Of course. You saw what he did.’

  ‘Roh, we’ve got a beast to catch, remember?’

  She smiled at that. ‘We do indeed. Follow me.’ She dug her boots into the muddy ground, dragging them to create deep, noticeable tracks, and pushed her way through a nearby veil of kelp, ensuring that it remained slightly parted. There was no way Finn Haertel could resist returning to see the damage he’d inflicted. She was determined to use that against him.

 

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