Wild Hunt (The Island Book 2)

by C. M. Estopare

  Ren dove into the tent, arms outstretched, legs turning to jelly beneath her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on for dear life as she willed the tears not to come. Not to zigzag through the dirt caking her face and drip down her chin onto his strapping chest. She willed them not to, but they came.

  “I thought you were—” they said in unison.

  Ren laughed. “You go first.”

  “You were gone.” He said, the soft firelight in his eyes dancing. “I thought the earthquake had…”

  “We found the Heart.” Her smile dangled and fell as she pulled away and sat opposite him.

  “And?” Kato leaned forward, awe displayed blatantly on his handsome face. “What happened after?”

  “Well, of course, we couldn’t open it.” She shook her head. “We need everyone—the Shapers, Scions, and Godcallers. Apparently…” her head tilted, “the Godcallers are like…keys or something.”

  Kato’s eyes widened. “And the Shapers?”

  “We’ve got all four,” Ren said. “But we’re still missing a Scion. Water—”

  “And Earth. We’re missing two.”

  Ren didn’t have the heart to tell him that Nakato, the Earth Scion and person who should be dead, wasted away in her mind like a parasite. “Yeah…”

  “You have a plan?”

  Ren grinned. “When do I not?”

  He pinned her with a bemused gaze.

  She let the silence pass. “We’re going…somewhere…on boats to get the Godcallers.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.” She gasped. “Tomorrow—holy fuck!” Her heart skipped a beat. “It’s like…I never get a damned break.” The island was dying. It made sense, but still. She was only one person. Luckily, she wasn’t alone.

  Kato reached across the rug and scooped up her hands. Dragging the pads of his thumbs over the tops of her hands, he smiled up at her. “It will be over soon.”

  For some reason, that sliced deep.

  What would she do once this was all over? Go…home?

  Did she even have a home to return to?

  For Ren, everything passed too quickly. It was almost as if the island itself was urging her toward her next destination, her next piece of this island-wide puzzle. When sunrise cast shimmering gems of light across the cavern’s murky pool of water, Ren and Kato ventured toward the edge of the little lake, followed by Maka, Ekanna, and a visibly agitated Chi Chi. Slate waited at the opening of the cave, hands on his hips as he watched them.

  21

  Two rafts strung together with bamboo and frond-strings bobbed at the mouth of the cave. Boarding them, Slate’s people guided the rafts up the Great River. Massive curtains of water threatened to sink them every time a raft drifted too close to the roaring waterfalls shrieking down on either side.

  Traveling up the slinking, watery, path, the mountains to the right of them began to sink low and angle themselves with the waters as wafting plains of emerald grass stretched out to the southern shore of the island. In the far distance, Ren spotted tall steeples and sloped roofs rising high over the plains as they fell deeper into their gradually lowering pit. White haze blanketed the city on the shore as the waterfalls lining the Great River morphed into still crystal waters offering to push them out to sea.

  The river curved drastically the closer they came to the sloping city beyond as a rickety dock came into view. Slowing the rafts and knocking them against the dock, Slate’s people began to tie the wooden structures to the thin dock jutting out from a sandy road of dirt.

  I do not believe I have ever been this far up river.

  Ren blinked the haze from her eyes as they followed Slate up the winding sandy path to a wooden cottage jutting out from a knotted knoll of grass.

  Where are we? Ren asked Nakato.

  Sitras, Nakato boomed, a spitting image of the Northern Shore. It reminds me of Nyx.

  Ren’s heart ached. She wondered how the Mesh and Lindiwe were doing. A week or two had passed by—she wasn’t even sure how much time had passed. After spending so much time underground, it was hard to pinpoint how long ago it must have been since she’d left them.

  But they left her first.

  How petty do you have to be…Nakato grumbled.

  Chi Chi grabbed Ren by the shoulders as Slate entered the cottage and slammed the screen door behind him. “This is a trap!” she sputtered out, digging her nails into Ren’s shoulders. “I swear it, Ren!”

  Kato shot her a confused look. “That is the one that cared for me?” He asked, brows furrowed.

  “Yep.”

  Chi Chi stepped away and mustered her sweetest smile. “I am Chi Chi, that is Ekanna…and some man from the Upper City. I…” her eyes darkened when Slate slipped out of the cottage, dragging along with him a stout man in suspenders, his hair curving around the shiny crown of his head like a halo. “See! I told you—”

  “This is my informant.” Slate deadpanned, shoving the man toward them. “He has been tracking the Sitras Godcallers for me.”

  The informant bowed, his yellow eyes magnified by the bifocals that reminded Ren of the bottom of a glass bottle.

  “Thank you?” Ren shrugged. “So, where are they?”

  The informant stood ramrod straight. “There are three I’ve pinpointed to four places.” He said, his voice nasally and high. “The Matchmakers Guild in Scarlet Plaza, the Pits in the Black District, the High Temple at the center of the city, and the Nymph in her Celestial Palace.” The man bowed, then scurried backward.

  Ren threw up her hands. “That’s it?” she forced a smile. “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner?” she threw a pointed gaze at Slate. “Sad part is, that none of us are from Sitras…”

  Slate’s gray eyes slid to Chi Chi, before fluttering back to Ren.

  “Or, maybe not…?”

  Chi Chi huffed, nostrils flaring. “You have no right.” She glared at Slate, the two having a silent staring battle. When she blinked, her tan shoulders slumped. “I know the Nymph—”

  “Quite personally, if I remember correctly.” Slate smirked.

  “That is incredibly rude!” Chi Chi exploded, stomping her foot. “Ugh! Moira forgive me, I know this city. I know it well. I can…help.” She admitted it begrudgingly, sighing heavily. “I can be a guide. But, Ren, realize that this man only knows where three of the Godcallers are. We need four.”

  Maybe Moira should have chosen her, hm, Renata?

  Ren blinked Nakato’s voice away. “She’s right.” Ren shrugged. “There’s no point in just getting three.”

  “Where’s the fourth?” Chi Chi hissed through gritted teeth, eyes glaring serrated daggers at Slate.

  Fingering the silver chain link at his throat, he pulled a trinket from beneath his shirt and held it up. The sun glanced off bone and glinted on crystal, highlighting the lines of an intricately fastened key.

  “Right, here.” Slate said.

  22

  Chi Chi lurched forward, right fist clenched, the other flattened against the side of her thigh. A vein throbbed on her temple as she took another misguided step. Before Ren could blink, Ekanna charged between the two and stopped, arms outstretched. With a curt shake of her heart-shaped head, Chi Chi visibly relaxed while a loud sigh escaped from Slate’s flared nostrils.

  Kato’s gaze scanned the scene. “I think we’re missing…something.”

  Beside Ren, Maka chuckled. His rough voice switched to island speak, and at his words, Kato’s eyebrows rose an inch.

  “What did he say?” Ren demanded, lips pursed.

  “It isn’t something you’d want to know,” Kato said, a slight frown on his face. When Ren pinned him with an exasperated look, he shrugged, palms up, “What? That’s what he said!”

  Ren was getting pretty damned tired of this shit.

  “Look,” she stepped forward, snapping for the group’s attention, “we’re here to get the Godcallers, alright? Any past—whatever—you two have,” she said, indicating Chi Chi and Sla
te with a roll of her eyes and gesticulating fingers, “keep it to yourselves. Got it?”

  Chi Chi spun on her heel, giving Ren her back. Slate remained silent, stuffing his Godcaller back beneath the collar of his tunic.

  So much for being a leader.

  What can I say? Nakato snorted, You have started quite late in the game, Renata.

  Ren’s lips went taut. Thanks for the vote of confidence dead, disembodied, voice.

  Nakato chuckled at that.

  “Okay, so…some guild, a nymph, the Pits and a temple. Chi Chi, do you…” Ren held out her hands, shaking her head.

  Chi Chi spun around, her face fixed into one of silent contempt. “I will show you the way.” She deadpanned, “But once the group splits—no matter what—Ekanna and I stay together.” She snapped her gaze to Ren’s. “Do you understand?”

  Ren nodded. “Roger. Just take us there.”

  Leading them through white haze and across a vast plain of dancing emerald grasses, the city of Sitras loomed over a crashing ocean of jade that rushed out to meet the foggy Veil separating the island from the outside world. Unlike the stone castle walls of the Vost’s city, Sitras took their inspiration from the plank-town of Nyx. Ribbed walls of bamboo enclosed a city sitting on a sloping knoll of pearl-white sand. Burning with massive fire pits sequestered in the depressions of massive flat roofs, the homes and businesses of the ocean city were as connected as a forest of vine-linked kapok trees.

  Entering the city amid firelight and ocean sprays, a gleaming pyramid-like structure immediately caught Ren’s eye. The thing was made entirely out of glass, its sharp precipice point rising to the sky, piercing the clouds.

  “That is the high temple.” Chi Chi pointed out as they stood in awe with their backs to the city gates. “It is at the center of the square.” She turned a half circle and pointed through a throng of pastel painted people, “Through there is the Scarlet Plaza. The Matchmakers Guild is a burgundy building made entirely out of red stones—”

  “You mean brick?” Ren blurted.

  “Past the Scarlet Plaza, if you delve into the slums—”

  “The Black District.” Slate nodded. “I know where it is.”

  Chi Chi narrowed her eyes. “The Celestial Palace is mine. The Nymph and I, well,” she blinked. “She was a good friend.”

  Ekanna appeared beside her, arms crossed.

  The group stood still for a moment, the wash of the city’s noontime crowd curving around and through them.

  Give them something to do, stupid girl! They’re awaiting your instructions!

  Ren blinked. Oh, now they’ll listen to me.

  “Alright…Chi Chi, Ekanna, Celestial…whatever?”

  Chi Chi nodded.

  “Maka, Scarlet Plaza. Kato, that temple-pyramid-thing.”

  The two exchanged nods.

  “I guess that leaves us with the Pits.”

  Slate’s face looked bleaker, something Ren didn’t think was even possible.

  “Alright, team…break?” she clapped her hands awkwardly. The group didn’t budge.

  Kato came to her side. “You to the Pits, with him?” he asked, gaze sliding to Slate. “The place sounds…”

  “Like I might die?” Ren shrugged. “I bet it isn’t as scary as it sounds. It could be a pit of anything. Puppies, unicorns…”

  Kato’s mouth became a hard line. “Be careful.” He said, taking her hand. Closing her fingers into a fist, he brought it to his chest. “Promise me.”

  It felt like every eye on the island was on her. Air tickled over her skin as she snatched her hand away from him, heartbeat fluttering. “I promise.”

  “Where will we meet once everything is complete?” Chi Chi asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “That house—erm—”

  “The cottage.” Slate said. Turning to his informant, he muttered at the man who immediately turned on his heel and vacated the square with wide, saucer-like, eyes.

  Nodding her head once, Chi Chi turned on her heel and took Ekanna’s hand in hers. As the crowd swallowed them up, Kato and Maka took their leave. Sighing, Ren followed Slate.

  With her heart thumping in her ears, she kept her face down. Eyes on the heels of Slate’s boots. As the landscape gradually changed from one of sparkling splendor to one of shanty houses and grimy holes ripping through stone walls, the ground dipped sharply. A dirt path littered with crumpled paper and rotting fruit dropped into a serrated staircase that shot straight into the ground.

  The Pits.

  Ren didn’t know what to expect.

  Slate didn’t slow down for her. With his hands in the pockets of his breeches, he made his way downward. Sweaty bodies pressed all around Ren as she attempted to follow, the harsh thump of drumbeats vibrating up the staircase and into her bones as she followed, the stairs disappearing into complete and utter darkness.

  On the final stair, dancing firelight lit up a cavern of black stone and ornate carvings. Slate waited for her there, back against the wall as he stared out into what seemed to be nothing. Ren slipped down, eyes scanning frantically. With her hand on the wall, she stopped and was immediately shoulder checked, a woman’s iron breastplate slamming into her shoulder. Ren stole a look at the woman who pressed past her. The woman chanced a glare back.

  Ren’s chest tightened at the look. A familiar one.

  23

  Their eyes were gridlocked. Mia’s crystal-green eyes bled through Ren’s, her face twisting into a brow squishing sneer that melded with her dinged iron armor.

  You’re supposed to run, right? With your arms out, screaming…

  Ren lurched toward her, each step uncertain. Unclear. Mia recoiled just as a hulking mass of muscle separated the two, the man jogging toward the massive stone pit that collapsed into a ring melded with metal and stone. Stone bleachers surrounded the ring, along with towering stone statues, hands clasped in prayer, stone faces chipped with malice.

  Ren jumped forward, but a hand on her shoulder held her in place. The wall of muscle slid past Mia, disappearing into the crowd beyond. Turning on her heel, Mia sashayed toward the crowd beyond, disappearing in a flash of iron armor and layered locks.

  Ren shrugged Slate’s hand off of her shoulder.

  “Listen,” he said, stalking around to face her. “Concentrate on the Godcaller. Don’t let these people—”

  “I know her.”

  “You knew her.” He corrected, his eyes narrowing into slits. “There is only one way to die here, and if you aren’t careful, it may be by her hand. What are you here for?”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  Slate facepalmed, then ran his fingers through his platinum hair. “Just…follow.” He shook his head and turned.

  Ren followed.

  I rather like being…semi-alive.

  Luckily, Ren could barely hear the disembodied-dead-woman’s voice grumbling in her head as the raucous cries of the fire-lit crowd stormed in her ears and thundered through her bones. Above the bleachers, a massive drum beat over and over, the beat matching the shrieks and hollers of the crowd as, down below, two men beat each other senseless.

  “What’s the purpose of this place?” Ren hissed at Slate as he slunk through the brawling, sweaty, crowd.

  Tossing a smug look over his shoulder, Ren almost swore she saw the guy smirk. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Ren hated dramatic people. Granted she could be pretty dramatic, but still.

  Ren rolled her shoulders and snorted. Slate stilled at a gap in the crowd and stared down into the pit, slouching over. Standing on tiptoe, Ren struggled to bring her gaze over the tilted head of a man in the row before her. When she finally popped her gaze over his stubby head, Ren inhaled sharply, her eyes widening to marbles. She ducked down quickly, but not before a snapping spatter of blood slapped the faces of the audience members before her. A line of blood painted her forehead and, with her stomach rolling, she smeared it away with her forearm.

  Godcaller. I�
�m here for the Godcaller. I’m here to save the Island. I’m here for—don’t puke.

  Beside her, Slate chuckled softly.

  Maybe Chi Chi was right.

  The crowd roared, the bleachers shaking as feet stomped and the pounding drums thundered with intensity. The eyes of the crowd rose above the bleachers opposite Ren’s. Following the eyes of the crowd, she pinpointed a man in black raising his arms. Silken robe cuffs shimmered in the scarlet firelight as the man cut a line through the air, silencing the screams and shouts.

  Picking something from the wide cloth belt holding his robes together, he dangled it before the crowd in awe. It sparkled in the dancing light, threatening to blind Ren as she stared at it.

  The man thundered in island speak, gesticulating wildly, like a tree caught in a buffeting gale. The Godcaller waggled in his fingers as he spoke, his voice booming over every head.

  “What is he—”

  Slate took her wrist and dove through the space between the line of people below them. Rushing to the outer rim of the ring, Ren noticed others silently flooding around the ring. The man above finished his speech with a scream, a flourish of drums and stomping feet.

  “What’s going on?” Ren hissed, stealing her wrist back. “Slate.”

  With one seething look, he changed. His hair lengthened and darkened. His features became more feminine, his skin darkening as color raced beneath. Ren blinked once, arching back as Slate’s face no longer stared back at her. Now, she was staring at her own.

  “You better have a fucking great explanation for this.”

  “To get the Godcaller, you must fight.” And he pointed toward the ring. Others jumped in, Ren didn’t bother counting how many.

  “And you’re mimicking me, why?” she fought the urge to throttle him, to throw up and run away.

  “Just in case,” his deep voice rose a couple octaves, the last word suddenly bubbly and feminine.

  Ren scrunched up her face—did she really sound that…annoying?

  Grabbing her shoulders, he shoved her forward. To avoid breaking her nose—or worse—Ren righted herself as she landed feet first into the arena below. Dust billowed up around her, the dirty haze puffing up into clouds of steam as others followed. Ren counted five.