Resigned, Odi followed her, asking no questions as she dropped another piece of blood-spotted fabric, the white and red of it a stark contrast against the leaf litter. Finn wouldn’t miss it. A few steps on, she paused, tipping some of the bone splinters from the pouch into her hand. She was careful to keep her palm as flat as possible, so the jagged pieces didn’t pierce her skin. Crouching, she pushed aside some of the leaf litter, scattering the bone fragments across the dirt, ensuring that their sharpest edges faced upwards. Then, she scooped up the loose leaves and sprinkled them on top, covering the gleam of ivory.
Odi bent down beside her, frowning at what she had done.
‘What is it?’ she snapped, preparing for the onslaught of objections. Odi, she was learning, was a generally quiet human, but when he had something to say, he said it loudly and it was usually to do with morals. He seemed to have a lot of those.
‘You missed a spot,’ he said, grabbing a handful of leaves and covering up a patch.
‘Oh.’ Roh brushed the dirt from her hands and got to her feet. She peered at the hourglass; she could only guess at the time they had left, and it wasn’t much.
‘What now?’ Odi asked, standing beside her, wiping his hands on his pants.
‘Now, we hunt,’ Roh said.
She followed the salt in the air. The trees were denser here, and Roh and Odi were forced to weave through them sideways. Roh’s legs burned as the terrain steepened and she led them up a rise. The ground was damp enough that it sank upon weight and scattered leaf litter was a telltale sign that something had been there before.
‘Look for tracks,’ she softly told Odi. They were careful not to disturb too much of the foliage around them and they treaded carefully, keeping quiet. As they went, Roh continued to place human belongings in plain sight, after she had dropped tiny doses of diluted larkspur all over them. Odi said nothing of these traps, despite the fact that they all targeted his kind, not hers. Perhaps he understood it was where the weak link lay.
Roh’s shoulders were tight with tension as they pressed on through the undergrowth, her eyes scanning the forest floor for any sign of cyren or beast. She was staring so hard she almost missed them – markings in the earth: a pair of three scratches, claw marks, if she wasn’t mistaken. So, there are beasts in here, after all.
‘Looks like a bird,’ Odi whispered, crouching by the tracks. ‘It’s bigger than a sparrow, that’s for sure.’
‘Good.’ Roh moved to the next set of claw marks, and the next —
Odi grabbed Roh’s arm as a klyree darted across the undergrowth before them in a flash of brown-and-white fur. It sprang from its hind legs, scattering leaves everywhere as it made another dash —
A sickening crunch sounded as a stone shot from behind the trees, cracking the creature’s skull. Its limp body skidded to a halt in the dirt and Yrsa Ward emerged from the trees, sling in hand. She didn’t give Roh and Odi a second glance as she stalked across the forest, picking up the dead klyree by its horns and slinging it over her shoulder. Her human, who had been waiting for her in the shadows, ducked out of sight, as did Yrsa. One moment they’d been there, the next Roh and Odi were alone again. The only evidence that it had happened at all was the smear of blood in the leaves.
‘She’s content with a small beast,’ Odi pointed out.
‘Well, we’re not,’ Roh said as she tried to shake the experience and relocate the bird tracks. ‘A bigger beast guarantees our place in the tournament.’ The sound of running water distracted her. ‘Can you hear that?’ she whispered.
Odi stilled and listened, nodding. ‘There must be a stream nearby.’
‘That could work. There might be fish,’ Roh muttered, trying to follow the noise. But the babble of water drew closer and closer, faster than Roh was moving. She signalled to Odi to stop and he did as she bid, eyes wide. Something strange was afoot here. Roh surveyed the forest, the sound so close now it was nearly upon them.
‘Roh,’ Odi murmured, a single finger pointing to something emerging from the trees.
Roh spotted a slender silvery-blue leg extending, a hoof pawing the ground, droplets of water spraying outwards. Roh’s hand went to her mouth as she stared at the backahast – a water horse hailing from the cyren territory of Lochloria. The creature was majestic, its muscular form made up of water that seemed to flow with its movements. Roh had only ever seen a backahast once before, when she was just a nestling. The backahast were no threat to cyrens. Both creatures shared a deep respect for water and ancient magic, but … When the backahast neighed, it was not looking at Roh. Its hoof stomped the ground again, body tense as it tossed its head, once more sending water flying.
‘Roh?’
At the sound of the quaver in Odi’s voice, the backahast charged.
‘Odi!’ Roh yelled, but he was no match for the powerful creature.
At a gallop, the backahast reached him in seconds, wrapping its form around him, encasing him, filling his lungs with water. Odi’s shouts were drowned out, his limbs a blurry flurry of struggle within the whirlpool the backahast had created.
Roh rushed to him, diving into the cold chaos of water. Her hands found Odi and shoved him from the backahast’s snare, taking his place. Odi’s coughing and spluttering was distant as the roar of water consumed Roh. The water glided along her skin and down her throat, but the creature could do her no harm. She could breathe in the deepest part of the sea, and the hold of a backahast was no different, so it released her.
With a final flick of its tail and a frustrated whinny, the water horse retreated into the forest.
Odi was on all fours, coughing up water into the dirt. His hair was plastered to his head and his clothes, like Roh’s, were completely soaked through.
Roh thumped him on the back as he spluttered. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I nearly drowned,’ he croaked.
‘True,’ Roh allowed, wringing out her hair. ‘But you didn’t.’
Mid-scoff, Odi choked some more. ‘What was that?’ he managed.
‘A backahast. Another challenge placed in here by the council.’ She hauled Odi to his feet. ‘We have to keep moving,’ she said. ‘This way.’ She led them through the trees once more, ignoring the wet squelch of her boots and the slap of her drenched clothing. Silently, she tried to calculate how much time they might have left. They needed to get to the heart of the forest, and fast.
Eventually, they arrived at a clearing and Roh breathed a sigh of relief. Here, there was not just one set of tracks, but many – it seemed to be a crossroads, an animal thoroughfare.
‘This is perfect.’ She dropped the pack.
‘Perfect for what?’
‘You’ll see. Here,’ she said, using a talon to draw a circle in the dirt before passing the pack back to him. ‘Dig a hole here.’
She had designed the contraption last night, sketched it in charcoal on the back of the trial instructions. It was just like designing anything, really, though regrettably, she hadn’t had the time to make a working model. She left a shivering Odi to his task and set about starting on hers. She gathered a bundle of sticks from the forest floor and laid a number of them flat on the ground, assessing their lengths and fanning them out in a circular shape. Using the ball of twine she’d packed, she bound them together, creating a sturdy wheel.
‘What is that?’ Odi looked up, his hands muddy.
‘You’re not going fast enough,’ was Roh’s reply. She placed her wheel carefully on the ground and rushed over to him, unsheathing her talons and digging them deep into the damp earth. She lost herself in the rhythm, pummelling the dirt, her head down, perspiration stinging her eyes and the cut on her cheek.
‘This is deep enough,’ she told Odi, when the lip of the trench met her armpit. ‘Now …’ She set about fitting the wheel she’d made over the hole perfectly. Feeling grounded by the practicality of her task, Roh removed her boot and used it to hammer a stick into the ground before the trench and wheel. She used another to rest
the wheel open on an angle before the hole, the new stick bridging the gap between the wheel and the pole she’d hammered in place.
Roh’s fingers shook as she tied a piece of twine to another stick. She crafted the rest of the trap as swiftly as she could, all too aware of Odi’s stare bearing down on the back of her head. She used smaller sticks to create a false floor across the trench and placed half an apple she’d brought carefully on top.
‘Roh?’ Odi was fidgeting yet again.
‘What now?’
He grimaced. ‘I need to …’
‘Need to what? For Thera’s sake, spit it out.’
‘I need to see to my needs,’ he said awkwardly.
Roh huffed in irritation. ‘Do you see a bathing chamber anywhere? Make do by the foliage over there. Be quick about it. You’re lucky you’re a man.’
His cheeks tipped with pink, Odi stumbled into the forest, fumbling with the ties of his pants and disappearing from her view. Shaking her head, Roh turned away, trying to ignore the quiet splashing she could now hear.
A scream pierced the air, wild and blood-curdling. The hairs on Roh’s arm stood up.
‘Odi!’ Roh ran to him, heart hammering, but her human was safe. He was peering through a split in the kelp.
‘Gods,’ he gasped.
‘What is it?’ Roh pushed him aside so she could see herself. And wished she hadn’t. Deep in the ground, someone had laid a trap, not entirely unlike Roh’s, and a human man had fallen victim to it. The man, writhing in agony, was impaled on several stakes, which had been positioned upright in the trench. Blood flowed from his wounds, and pieces of flesh dangled from the tops of the stakes where they’d gone through him. He was the human belonging to the kitchen hand, Ferron.
‘We have to help him,’ Odi said.
Roh turned to him, incredulous. ‘Are you mad?’
‘No! Look at him, he needs —’
‘A swift death is what he needs, and even that I’m not willing to give. Do you know what other traps could be lying around him? I will not risk us —’
The sudden caw of a bird cut Roh off and she froze, the dying human forgotten.
‘Roh, we can’t —’
A rush of wind swept past them, practically knocking Roh and Odi to the ground. A giant bird on long legs raced past. Roh gaped. She had never seen anything like it. From the blurred glimpse, she’d seen a long neck and muscular body on tall legs. A sizeable beast.
The ground vibrated beneath her boots and seconds later, she saw why. An enormous boar came charging down the path after the bird. Heart in her throat, Roh shoved Odi and herself back against the trees, moving just in time as the beast smashed through the foliage.
‘Come on.’ Roh yanked at Odi’s arm. ‘We’re finally in luck.’
But Odi’s face was pale. ‘We can’t just leave the man there! He’s still moving.’
‘He won’t be much longer,’ Roh said coldly, without releasing him. ‘I will not give up my place in this tournament trying to save a dying human.’
‘Roh —’
‘This is not a debate.’ She gripped his arm tighter, dragging him after her. Roh could tell from his weak struggles that his attempts were half-hearted. He knew it was no use, he just didn’t want to be the one to say it. She’d take that burden without question, if it meant she had a chance in this trial. Silently, she followed the broken foliage. If they could capture the boar, things would look very different for them. The boar’s tracks were easy enough to follow – they went deep into the mud, and anything in its path was demolished.
Odi pointed out a line drawn in the dirt. ‘Someone hoping to find their way out?’ he asked.
Roh shrugged and took a stick from the ground, but Odi offered his hand and slowly she gave him the stick. He went to the line and drew another forking off from it, leading elsewhere. And another, disappearing into the kelp.
Roh gave him a grim smile. ‘You’re starting to understand, are you?’
‘I wish I wasn’t,’ he muttered, handing back the stick as they continued after the boar’s tracks, which led them to the trap they’d set up. It was undisturbed.
‘I should go back to the —’
‘We do not separate,’ Roh told him firmly.
Something nearby rustled and Roh pressed a single finger to her lips. He nodded slowly. They watched as the wild boar emerged from the foliage, sniffing determinedly. Roh’s heart began to rise from the roiling pit in her stomach, hope filling her. The beast edged towards her trap, grunting and snorting into the ground, smelling its way to the apple bait. He was nearly there … Just a few more steps —
An arrow shot through the boar’s eye with a bloody splat. Roh clapped a hand over her mouth hard to stop herself from crying out. Finn Haertel limped out from a hiding spot further down the path, gripping his crossbow, his right foot tied with bandages stained red. Seething, Roh watched the highborn approach the boar, his human close behind, holding his keeper’s boot, pincushions to the shards of ivory sticking out. Together, cyren and man strung the beast up between them on a spear. Finn swore loudly as he staggered under its weight on his injured foot.
He found the bone splinters at least. There was small satisfaction in that.
But as Roh watched Finn and her prize disappear off into the labyrinth, panic set in. She and Odi had nothing, nothing to show for their efforts except the cut on her cheek. Their time was waning fast. She closed her eyes and took a moment.
Something buzzed by her ear and she froze. Her eyes flew open to see a nucrite, a tiny winged insect, fluttering near Odi’s shoulder. He went to bat it away carelessly and she shot towards him, clamping one hand over his mouth and using the other to pin his arms at his sides. He was tense in her hold, his breath hot on her palm, but she didn’t release him. She watched the nucrite, her mind racing with how she could create a flame to distract it, for where there was one, there was usually a swarm. Her heart hammered against Odi’s back, but she refused to move, for fear of disturbing the dry leaf litter at her feet. All it would take was one small sound and a swarm would be upon them.
A moment passed. Then two … And the nucrite fluttered away.
A cry of relief nearly escaped Roh as she released her arms to her sides.
Odi turned to her, brow furrowed. ‘It was just a moth,’ he said.
Roh laughed darkly. ‘Until it called all its friends to eat the flesh from your bones.’
Odi’s face paled at that.
‘Another gift from the council, no doubt,’ she mused. ‘It’s gone now —’
A scurry amongst the undergrowth cut her off.
‘Don’t move,’ she ordered Odi.
A bird, similar to the one that had darted past them earlier, appeared. It was smaller, perhaps the previous creature’s offspring, but still sizeable enough.
Roh swallowed. This was their chance. It had to be. She watched intently as the bird scuttled towards her trap, spotting the apple sitting on the false floor beneath the wheel. It stalked towards it, suspicious, its movements skittish and unpredictable. Its long neck extended, reaching for the bait, pecking at the apple flesh but not quite on the false floor … It was so close …
One claw stepped forward and a screech sounded. The wheel came crashing down on the bird’s head and Roh and Odi leaped towards it. Their prize was half stuck beneath the wheel, its legs and much of its torso hanging outside the trap as it flapped wildly and screeched loudly.
‘It’s going to escape,’ Odi shouted, trying to push the rest of the bird’s body into the trench.
‘Hold the wheel down, just wait,’ Roh told him, putting a foot on top of the wheel as the bird thrashed within. Its head came through the spokes and attacked her boots with furious pecking.
‘What now?’ Odi said, his hair damp with sweat.
‘Wait.’
‘But, Roh —’
‘Wait.’
For once, Odi did as she told him and the only sound was the panicked flapping of the bird
’s wings and its desperate cries. Gradually, its movement slowed and its squawks became less frantic and then quiet. Finally, it slumped in the dirt, lying lifeless in the trap.
Slowly, Odi removed the wheel atop the trench, his mouth agape. ‘What happened to it? How …?’
Roh picked up the apple. ‘I spiked it with some of your wine from the gala. The poor beast has had a very heavy dose of coral larkspur.’ She tossed the apple aside and pulled the limp animal from the trap. It was heavier than she expected, which was a good thing, given their goal. Odi took it from her and slung it over his shoulder. Roh adjusted the rucksack on her back as a flicker of movement above caught her eye.
The hourglass. Down to its final grains.
‘Odi,’ she croaked. ‘Run!’ She didn’t wait a second longer, staggering into a panicked sprint.
Odi raced beside her, the unconscious bird bouncing awkwardly on his shoulder.
They ran, weaving through the trees, darting across clearings and ducking through hubs of coral and kelp. Somewhere in the distance, something chimed. Panting raggedly, Roh looked up just in time to see the final grain of sand fall in the hourglass.
The forest flattened.
Chapter Ten
The entire forest had vanished, leaving Roh, Odi and the other competitors exposed and vulnerable in the open. Everything the forest had contained – coral, kelp, backahast, nucrites, and the rises and falls in terrain – was all gone. There was nothing but flat space. Roh found herself stepping closer to Odi, scanning the sudden change in scenery wildly. What now?
The hovering hourglass floated to the ground, landing with a soft thud. Was that a water-warlock enchantment, too? Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a strangled gasp. For behind where the forest had stood was a filmy veil, a shifting, transparent wall, and turquoise waters shimmered against it as it held back the sea. A portal. She heard Odi’s intake of breath beside her as he also saw it. She’d been right, the sea had been near, and upon seeing it, she could smell the salt all the more strongly and hear the rhythm of the current. It called to her in the way the music of the lair did, as it did to all cyrens. How long had it been since she had felt the kiss of the tide against her skin? As a nestling, she had heard ancient stories, going back thousands of years, of when all cyrens had had wings, when they had roamed the seas and lands above with little care. What had happened that tethered all cyrens to their lairs?
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