Wild Hunt (The Island Book 2)

by C. M. Estopare

  Ren stopped. Turned her gaze toward Kato.

  Something in Chi Chi’s pocket glowed, white light in the shape of a halo coming to life on her right hip. Chi Chi fished it out as Ren clamped her lips shut. Another problem for another time, she supposed. The arguments died as Chi Chi revealed a glowing glass globe. Holding it in the palm of her hand, the group circled around her as a head and torso appeared in the center of the globe.

  “Namaste,” a watery echo reverberated off of the glinting white glass, reverberating through Ren’s bones.

  30

  A shadowy silhouette swirled into being, the silhouette dark and distinctly feminine.

  “Who…?” Ren glanced at Chi Chi.

  Slate chuckled darkly.

  “The Nymph.” Chi Chi forced through gritted teeth.

  Ren’s eyes flew to the globe and back.

  “A looking glass,” Chi Chi hissed, rolling her eyes.

  Nothing weird about that.

  “There is a dastardly force at work beneath the intertwining threads that make up our island, and our world,” the Nymph’s words were a song dancing down Ren’s vertebrae, causing her spine to tingle, “Chi Chi has told me of your efforts to rid our world of this self-titled goddess, Moira,”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa—wait. What now?

  The group turned their confused gazes on Chi Chi, all except Slate.

  “Right…at this moment. If you would turn your gaze toward the city…”

  A short snaking line of covered wagons ventured toward them from afar, curving from the city. Though only silhouettes right now, in a matter of minutes the caravan would be upon them.

  “Is that for us?” Ren asked, hands touching her face. In the distance, she saw two lumbering beasts that looked kind of like buffaloes. But not quite.

  “Sitras sends you blessings. Buffotaur and a caravan, but not men. You must guide yourselves.” With a click, the silhouette vanished. The light from the globe flickering out of existence as the caravan beyond ventured closer and came to circle around the group.

  Buffotaur? Massive creatures, more muscle than fat, snorted and pawed at the ground. Closer now, they certainly did resemble buffalo. These beasts were larger with massive bull’s horns sprouting out from either side of their heads. On their foreheads, sharp rocks seemed to jolt out from between tangled patches of black fur.

  Two covered wagons were attached to the massive creatures. The driver of the caravan hopped off and motioned for them to climb aboard. Maka was the one to take the reigns of the animals, his eagerness to return to the Vost obvious as his stern face cracked into a smile while he waved the driver off.

  “When life gives you lemons…I guess.” They’d be leaving the Water Scion. Ren would be leaving Mia. That girl was pretty much invincible, and the fact that Ren had found her fighting in the Pits gave her more hope than despair. Maybe she had what it took to survive out here. Ren sure as hell didn’t. If she hadn’t acquired this fire power, she would have been gone a long time ago. If Moira hadn’t called on her for help, Ren would have left when he grandfather had offered her a chance.

  But now, she was stuck.

  Climbing into the back of the first wagon, Ren sat with her legs dangling off the back as the thing lurched into movement. Her stomach followed the jolting movement, her head jerking forward, her grip threatening to slip.

  It hit her all at once that this would be useless without the Water Scion—Desta. Yeah, the Godcallers would open the door and she possessed Nakato’s magic, but without the Water Scion’s magic for that final rung in the lock…Ren shook her head. There had to be a way—a loophole. She had Nakato’s magic, so was it really a far cry if another scion could take one a second power? Maybe Kato could call water if he really tried. Maybe they could trick the door into thinking that they had all of the scions. Maybe…maybe…

  Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for this. On the horizon, smoke scattered the stars. Knowing her luck, she was already too late. Her heart fell, the passing greenery around her faded.

  Failure. It was like grit on her tongue. A familiar taste.

  In the darkness of the wagon, she found Kato staring out into the twilight.

  Maybe if she told him the truth, he could help her.

  31

  There was no way in hell she was going to tell him. Not without losing a good friend. Ren wasn’t sure how he’d react—would he regret helping her get this far? Would he finally see her for what she was, a mistake? Or, would he shrug and berate her for simply not telling him?

  Ren was pretty sure his reaction wouldn’t be the latter. He hated Nakato way more than she did. And since she had been holding onto this secret for so long, he’s going to have questions. Chief of them, why? Don’t you trust me? Why did hold back?

  Because I don’t trust myself.

  She rehearsed her answer throughout the journey back. Went over and over in her head what would happen at the Heart and how she would prove to him that she, beyond a doubt, trusted him completely.

  The stupid Heart won’t open and the whole group will turn to me and…

  With her arms crossed, Ren turned away from the wind that tousled and played with her hair.

  That’s not right. They’ll probably lose their shit before they let me get a word in edgewise.

  The caravan rested in a field of green, the roar of the Great River was a gentle murmur of white steam and salty spray. One day from now, they’d be back in the Upper City and back at the staircase leading to the Lower City. One day from now, they’d be at the Heart and realize—once again—that she had failed them. That she had failed the island and Moira had definitely made a mistake choosing an Outsider to help her. Maybe she’d become a Nephilim immediately upon failing the goddess. Or, maybe Moira would make her suffer. Make her return to the Vost and beg for Desta’s help while her fingernails grew into bone-white talons and a massive bird skull sprouted on her head.

  “Ren?”

  Ren flinched. Had it been a dream that he had almost called her shamaness?

  “I’m here.” She smiled, not turning around. “Kind of, you know,” tongue tied, Ren shrugged, unable to make the right words come out. Here she was again, on the precipice of failure, teetering right on the edge. All she needed was a little push, and then…

  Kato stood near, too close. His shoulder brushed up against hers, his body heat radiating from the quick touch of skin. “Have you seen it?” If he hadn’t been close, his words would have been stolen by the wind.

  Ren had to stoop and cock her head, eyes confused slits. “Seen what?”

  He grabbed her shoulder and gently guided her line of vision toward the right. Up ahead, a tiny steepled silhouette grew out of the emerald plains. When she concentrated harder, she could see the smoke rising from the tops of towering kapok trees and thick canopies making up the Wilds. If she squinted and allowed herself to see it, she could make out a tower in the distance. One of those damned drills sat teetering on the edge of the Great River. From here, it was a pinpoint on a vast spread of land overarching the river. No matter how small, it was still there. Threatening. Taunting. Telling her that, no matter how hard she tried to get the damned Heart to open, she had already failed.

  “Shit.”

  “They don’t understand.” He said, dropping his head and shaking it. “That is death. If we don’t get back now…” he left the rest to her imagination.

  Flashes of Kato’s village—Nyx—took over. The destruction a drilling tower on the Northern Shore caused ransacked her mind. Putrid fields of sulfur, plants that no longer grew, water wells contaminated to the point of killing whoever drank from it. Sickness. A village infested with waterborne plague.

  A drill contaminating the Great River would kill off the entire island. And, according to Moira, eventually the entire world. It was insane to even think that this island was somehow, in some way, connected with the rest of the world. Wouldn’t governments know and fight to protect it? Wouldn’t Ren have heard about this p
lace years ago if it was so damned important?

  Somehow, Moira had to be wrong.

  Kato’s eyes forced gooseflesh to pimple on her skin. He had been watching her, gauging her reaction. When their eyes met, a sorrowful smile curled his lips.

  “I’m sorry it had to be you.”

  Ren balled her hands into fists. “You know what my grandmother would say about sorry?” she barked a laugh. “ ‘Sorry didn’t do it.’ ” She brought her hands to her hips and turned away from the tower. She could pretend the world was still beautiful, the island still perfect. The sun dipped behind dark clouds of silver as she brought her face to it. “I did this. I accepted becoming shamaness. Stupid ol’ me thought that, ‘Hey! Maybe this is where I belong!’ because I sure as hell didn’t belong anywhere else.” She was trembling now, eyes glazing over. “Failing fucking sucks, Kato. No—” she flinched away from his touch, “seriously. Listen. I’m pretty sure your fucking goddess made a mistake because I’m not right for this. Everything I’ve done—besides setting shit on fire, yay me—has turned around to bite me right in the ass. The Mesh. The Island. Moira. Did you know,” she swiveled on her heel, pointer finger in the air.

  He kissed her. Scooped the back of her head up into the palm of his hand, threaded his fingers through her curls, tipped face up to meet his; and kissed her.

  Fireworks. Sparks. Fire.

  Fire exploded in her chest, blazing through her veins. Replacing blood, replacing her fear and loathing. In this moment, there were no towers, no islands to save and no goddesses to blame for it all. In this moment, she had a choice to pull back and mull over what she had to do next to save the island. But, her choice was to kiss him. To drown in his embrace and savor his lips, drinking them in like a woman fighting for air. Fighting to get to the surface of a rolling lake.

  When he pulled away, she dropped onto her feet. She woke up.

  White flowers bloomed in the field, surrounding them. White petals opening their faces to the silver sky. Kato stepped away, careful not to crush the little white faces. He gave her a look, one of knowing and refusal. One that pleaded for the truth, though he couldn’t bring himself to voice what Ren was sure he had to know by now.

  You did this, the unspoken phrase darkened his face.

  Ren turned on her heel and charged through the field of white daffodils.

  32

  This close to the tower, Ren could smell the stench. Inside the Upper City, the sulfuric stink of crude oil made Ren gag. Unlike the Mesh, the Vost didn’t adapt well to the stench and lowered air quality. People dry heaved in the streets, others lay wreathing on the side of the road, passed out. As the group made their way toward the pulsing blue cathedral at the center of the city, city guards eyed them with sparkling spears clutched tightly in their hands.

  The closer they came to the Paragon’s cathedral, the thicker the surrounding crowd became until the surge of sweaty bodies became as toxic and stomach turning as the noxious odor coming from the tower beyond. Closing in on the cathedral was an ocean of chanting, murmuring, people. Hands clasped. Heads dipped. A constant song of shouts sprinkled down from the cathedral’s windows, a high-pitched female voice assaulting their ears over and over in island speak.

  Ren’s eyes fell to the guards as Maka dove through the crowd, creating a pathway for them. Cradled in guards tense arms were black rifles. Guns. Ren’s eyes almost popped out her head. She tried to tap Kato’s shoulder to show him—to warn him—but he backed away from her touch, following Maka closely.

  Why in the fuck do they have guns?!

  How in the hell did her grandfather build a tower over the edge of the Great River so quickly? Why was any of this shit happening? Ren thought nothing could surprise her, that she had seen everything. But, slowly, she was beginning to learn that even her grandfather had a hint of magic about him.

  It’s like everything this damned island touches makes it…magical.

  Entering the cathedral, massive doors swept to a close behind them. Blue light pulsed over their heads and bodies, a murky pitched black overpowering the light the moment it pulsed out of existence. Lead by a different guard now, Ren noticed that this man avoided the stairs that had brought her down into the underbelly of the cathedral, and instead brought the group straight up a scarlet carpeted hallway. Crystalline doors loomed ahead, the doors at least seven feet tall. Half-way down the obsidian hallway, the guard stopped. Curled his hand at Ren, and beckoned her forward. The rest of the group was halted. Told to wait in island speak, Ren assumed as she watched Chi Chi’s face pale, her lips settling into a deadly line.

  Tread softly, Chi Chi mouthed.

  Ren shrugged at the sentiment. Whatever that meant.

  Leading Ren up to the towering crystalline doors, they wheezed open. Inside, a dome-like chamber revealed itself. Entering the chamber, the doors slammed to a close behind Ren. The click of a bolt sliding home made her jump.

  “You left us.”

  A pathway of scarlet carpet led to a raised dais with a silken veneer whispering to the floor. Behind the silken curtain, a silhouette sat with her hands clasped. On either side of the curtain stood guards, intimidating black rifles cradled in their hands.

  “The sky called for you and you ignored its summons. The goddess bid you—I bid you—open the Heart!” the silhouette sat taller. “And, you left us.”

  It should have been red flag number one that her friends were forced to sit back and wait. It should have been red flag you-better-turn-the-fuck-around when she saw fucking rifles. But, no, Ren liked to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

  Dammit.

  “We couldn’t open the fucking Heart.” Ren splayed her hands, forced words through her gritted teeth. “We needed—”

  A flicker of movement swept the veneer up an inch. It fluttered back down with the Paragon’s sharp inhale. “And so, you admit it.”

  Ren’s eyes shot open. “Admit what?” the guards took a step forward. Trained their muzzles on Ren and Ren backed off, hands up.

  “In our time of need, you ran. Now that we have been battered by storms and strangers from beyond the Veil, you return. Is that a coincidence?” she asked, her chair creaking as she stood. “We have been informed of what you are, Renata. And in exchange for the safety of my people, they have given us an ultimatum.” The guards crept forward, muzzles trained, trigger fingers itching. “I am not sorry for what will transpire.” She finished her phrase in island speak. The doors behind Ren clicked as the guards on either side of the Paragon’s veneer charged at her. Ren stood her ground, flame aching to explode from her hands.

  “You do not belong here.” The Paragon’s voice bounced off of the cathedral’s obsidian walls, slamming into Ren’s ears like a mallet. “That much should be clear to you, Outsider.”

  Flame. It ripped through Ren’s forearms, charging along the ground in a roaring wall of tangling fire. The guards screamed, hands pushing through the flame before the men fought to pull themselves away. Urged forward by their momentum, when the wall went up it was too late to turn back and skin boiled. Burned. Cooked.

  Behind her, the crystalline doors whooshed open. Ren spun and drew a circle of fire, the flame rolling off her back as beads of sweat cut between her shoulder blades. She’d get to the Heart if she had to fight her way there. Fuck the Paragon. Fuck her grandfather. Fuck the island—she’d do what she needed to do.

  The shadow of the flames engulfed her as a blinding white light filled the room and speared through the ceiling in a shrieking white pillar of concentrated light. The Paragon’s command, whispered behind the silken veneer, killed her flame and her fight. The flames crystallized and crumbled. A constricting numbness made her knees buckle and her fingers fall limp. As the wall fell away to crystallized dust, Ren met Paragon Vanda’s eyes over the tops of the heads of her guards.

  She wasn’t smiling.

  A hand clutched her shoulder and spun her around savagely. Cuffs smacked onto Ren’s wrists and suddenly she was
n’t able to feel her magic anymore. The fire in her chest died, replaced with a murky chill that threatened to close her throat and splinter her ribs. The pillar of light blinked out of existence as the Paragon’s voice boomed across the chamber. Island speak. Of course.

  An explosion of pain radiated across Ren’s right temple. Sparkling light danced in her vision, followed by an all-encompassing black.

  33

  With her arms stretched across a slimy, cold, floor; Ren tried swallowing. Tried opening her mouth to scream, but her throat constricted. Killing any curses or pleas she’d give to absolutely nothing. She closed her eyes as a pale blue light pulsed along the walls, barely brightening her cage. Barely doing anything but causing an awful fucking headache to crawl along her temples. When the light dissipated, she pried her eyes open and slunk along the ground like a cockroach. Her cell was the size of a broom closet—a small one. As light pulsed through the room again, she dropped her cheek against the cell’s bars and winced at the sharpened talons of rust biting into her cheek.

  It was nice though. Nice to feel something.

  She wanted to tell them sorry. She wanted to blame them. Wanted to know how Chi Chi couldn’t have foreseen this—didn’t she have some sort of sight gift? She wanted to know if Ekanna fought before she was taken down into the bowels of the cathedral—if that was where her friends were even taken. Ren wanted to know if Maka had seen this coming—he was a city guard, right? Had he led them to this fate purposefully? Or was he walking just as blind as they were? Walking blindly into a trap.