Hunter's Night

by Melinda Kucsera

  Cold seeped through Robin’s clothes as she fumbled through her gear for a weapon or something to throw—anything would do. Her bow case would be great right now. It was wooden and as long as a quarterstaff. Where was it? Her numb fingers turned up baby paraphernalia but no bassinet, baby or bow case. Damn it. Where were they?

  “Where’s my baby?”

  The question hung between them while Robin’s thoughts spun in a tight, terrified circle. She shut down that line of thought before panic turned her into a gibbering wreck and tossed three dirty diapers and a rattle in quick succession. The Huntress dodged the cloth poo-bombs but caught the rattle and did a suggestive hip wiggle before pocketing it. She smirked at Robin, and her eyes glinted in the half-dark.

  Robin swallowed, and fear burned all the way down to the worried fist clenched in her belly. “Where’s my daughter?”

  A heavyweight slammed into Robin, knocking her down onto her belly as a new combatant barreled into the tent, collapsing it. A second and a third creature followed him, and several hooves stepped on her back before Robin could roll out of the way. Only the tough leather of her brigandine kept those hooves from biting into her flesh.

  Pain lit Robin up, but it was a dull roar compared to the fear for her daughter squeezing her chest. Please don’t trample her. She’s just a baby. Robin tried to throw her arms over her head to shield it, but she was all tangled up in the canvas. Something hard collided with her head, and the world winnowed away as an ululating war cry rang out.

  “Strella? Did you finally get up?” Robin tried to ask, but everything faded to black before she could get the words out. Forget me. Save my baby. Robin sent that wordless plea into the darkness to anyone who was listening. Then, she finally passed out.

  Chapter 2

  Hyntra struggled to escape the canvas imprisoning her. How dare this man-made thing get in her way. She was the Huntress. All things bowed to her or died by her hand. Anger sharpened her claws to fine points, and she slashed them through the collapsed tent, ripping five long, satisfying gashes in it then five more crossways, creating a hole.

  Now, that was better. Hyntra crawled through that ragged hole into the moonlight, sparkling on the falling snow. Snowflakes caught on her lashes and melted on her face as Hyntra stood and gave her sleek mane a toss.

  As she stood there victorious in the snow, she rested her hands on her hips and retracted her claws. They sank back into the leathery pads of her fingers with a soft click and a deliciously cold tickle. Oh, it was good to be the Huntress, especially in winter when she had the run of the forest and no enchanted trees to interfere with her desires. They all hibernated in the so-called ‘winter sleep’ like every other green thing until spring, and their vaunted ‘three rules’ fell by the wayside because they slept too deeply to enforce them.

  Well, she wasn’t hibernating. Far from it. Hyntra chuckled. She just couldn’t help it. Life was so good and about to get even better. She laid a hand on the folded square of cloth in her skirt pocket. Power pulsed in the words an ancient hand had inked on that scrap of cloth, and she tingled all over with anticipation every time she touched it.

  But Hyntra wouldn’t be starting any fires or cutting down any trees just to be on the safe side. She didn’t want to wake the forest prematurely. Spring would do that soon enough. But she might harm someone under its boughs if someone came after her, and she hoped someone did. Then she’d have a reason to break one of the enchanted forest’s three rules.

  Hyntra skimmed a hand down her rock-hard abs and the short hairs covering those taut muscles then shook herself out of her reverie. She waved the creature stalking toward her to hurry up. She didn’t have all night.

  He was a faun and as such, part goat where she was part deer, not gazelle. She was not and had never been related to a cow. The faun, Heshen by name, had good, strong legs and fine-looking hooves perfect for scrambling over uneven ground. His white fur blended perfectly into the snowy night. Only his luminescent green eyes stood out, but all the members of the Wild Hunt had them.

  “Did you get it?” Hyntra asked because this wasn’t their usual hunt. No, they preferred the kind of prey that could run away, fight back, or at the very least enjoy being seduced, like young, strapping boys, and lithe girls, aged fifteen to thirty. They’d hunt them again soon and replenish their ranks, but for now, Hyntra had to deal with this baby business and the complex spell that required them because the outcome far outweighed her distaste for this kind of hunt. It would be over soon, anyway, so she could deal with it in the meantime.

  Heshen grasped the staff sticking out of the snowbank and pulled. It held aloft a lumir crystal in a silver cage that glowed a soft green. Its light glinted off the rings of Hyntra’s creative attempt at chainmail, not that she needed the added protection since her hide was tough, by design, to pierce.

  Snow crunched to her left as another member of the Wild Hunt, this one sporting a full rack of antlers, removed another staff topped by that same luminous crystal. It glowed the same pale green as the others.

  “Well? Did we get it or not?” Hyntra made a give me gesture.

  “You’ll have to be the judge of that.” Heshen shrugged. “All human kids look the same to me.”

  Hyntra glared at him until he glanced away. She should redecorate this clearing with his guts for his impertinence, but a better idea occurred to her, and a wicked smile curved her lips. “Then you should bag the next one since you’re so good at telling babies apart.”

  Realizing his error, Heshen froze. Objections formed in his green eyes but never made it to his lips. He pointed at something behind her.

  Hyntra felt it too then, a powerful presence, and turned to regard the enchanted forest in the valley below. A shiver raced up her spine, but there was no sign of Her, the Queen of All Trees, just her power probing the night. That giant, ambulatory tree sought something or someone this night. It had better not be the person she intended to hunt next.

  “Huntress?” Heshen finally said.

  “I know. I felt it too. The Witch Tree's out and about tonight.”

  “Does she know?”

  That was a good question. Hyntra did something she didn't normally do. She took a moment to consider what she knew of the so-called Queen of All Trees. Could that giant tree know what she planned to do this night? The Queen of All Trees was far cannier than her army of enchanted mega-foliage but…

  Hyntra bladed her hand and slashed it through the air effectively ending the discussion and all further speculation. She didn’t have enough facts to rule one way or the other, so she went with her gut. “No, she doesn't know, and she won't find out until the deed is done. We’ll move fast on the next one and be on our way before she could possibly figure it out.”

  There was no way the Queen could know what was inscribed on the cloth in her pocket. Hyntra was strangely certain of that. Besides, the well-preserved fabric had been scribbled on an animal’s hide, not any member of the Queen of All Trees’ forest. There was just no way that tree could know what it said.

  Satisfied by that explanation, Hyntra gave her pocket, and the cloth inside it, an affectionate pat. It would help her put one over on the Queen of All Trees. That bitch would never get the upper hand ever again, and that thought returned the smile to her face.

  “Are you sure?” Heshen glanced about as he asked that, infuriating Hyntra.

  She was the de facto leader of the Wild Hunt, and her word was law. He needed a lesson about that after he completed his assigned task. “Yes,” Hyntra said through clenched teeth. “Now get on your way. You have a child to take,” and she had business to take care of.

  Hyntra waved the two slender creatures that were waiting a discreet distance away to approach her. They were armed like the rest of the Wild Hunt and leading a string of moose. Both had backward curving horns like goats on either side of their too-symmetrical faces. A third one followed them carrying a bassinet.

  “Yes, bring the child to me.” Hyntra exte
nded her hands to receive it. Heshen had not moved though. She glared at him, and he held out his hands in entreaty.

  “How do I find the brat we seek?”

  Hyntra rolled her eyes heavenward. “Must I do everything?”

  It was a rhetorical question, so Heshen wisely kept silent. He dropped his gaze to the snow under her silver hooves as if that sign of deference could mollify her or make up for his ineptitude.

  “Huntress,” one of the female fauns said with proper deference as she extended a large basket to her. Inside it, a swaddled infant stopped moving the instant her dark eyes fastened on Hyntra, and that broke the tension.

  “Huntress? How do I—” Heshen asked again when she cut him off.

  “With this.” Hyntra thrust her hand into her pocket and withdrew a white stone.

  That rock was one of the rarer types of lumir crystals nowadays but not so in ages past when low-level mages made a living by enchanting stones. Too bad those days were long gone. What she wouldn’t give for a sack of bespelled crystals and a mage to make more. Maybe she’d pick one up tonight.

  In addition to its silver glow, the stone functioned like a compass for wishes. Hyntra held the wish stone out and focused all her will on what she needed for the spell to work—the son of a mage—anyone would do. She just needed the nearest mage-gifted child under the age of two. It didn’t matter if his father was super powerful or just a one-trick wonder. All that mattered was this child had the capacity to one day work magic.

  “Show me the way, wish-finder,” she intoned. Hyntra pictured a blanket-swaddled, pale wriggling little thing with bright green eyes and drool rolling down his dimpled cheek and hoped that would be enough. She’d never had any contact with young kids. But that's what the spell called for, so she sent that wish into the stone.

  At first, nothing happened. The crystal lay cool against her palm looking enough like a milky quartz crystal to make her wonder if she’d grabbed the wrong stone. Regular lumir crystals also came in white and gave off that same silver light, but that was all they did. Maybe she did pick up the wrong stone. Wish-finders were a special kind of white lumir crystal and nearly identical to their less gifted brethren.

  Just as Hyntra fumed at her carelessness, the rock warmed. Thank Fate. She had grabbed the right one after all. The wish stone oscillated against her palm, and its glow intensified until it was too bright even for her to look upon. Hyntra covered her eyes with her free hand moments before everything whited out. Somewhere on the other side of that light was the child she’d just wished for.

  “Heshen, go into the light. It’ll take you to the child we seek.” Or close enough that he should be able to find that brat on his own, but Hyntra didn't bother to enlighten him about that. “Go now. We’ll meet you at the haven. You know where that is, right?”

  “Of course, I've passed it many times. Do you really think it'll let us in?” Heshen asked.

  Was he stalling? Why didn’t he just walk into that light so it could stop blinding everyone? Hyntra shifted her hand a fraction of an inch then raised it again to shield her eyes as white rays of light stabbed them. That light must be blinding him too. Why didn’t he just go? “Just fetch that child. Leave the rest to me.”

  “But what if it won’t let us pass?”

  Ugh, more stalling. What was next? Excuses? No way. He had his orders. “The haven won't have a choice. You’ll see. It'll have to let us in for the good of the children.” Hyntra glanced at baby number one but couldn’t see her with all that light shining in her face. She just needed three more kids, then she could begin the ritual.

  With her tearing eyes squeezed shut against the light, Hyntra couldn’t tell if Heshen had followed her order. Nor did she hear his hooves crunching on the snow. Why did no one listen to her? She had a frigging list of things she needed to acquire and a dwindling timetable to keep. After all, their former leader couldn’t resurrect himself. Nope, that was the job of the spell in her pocket, and it required a very specific baby—the son of a mage, which the wish finder had just located.

  Hyntra caught someone male by the lapels of his leather vest and shoved him into the light. Hopefully, she’d sent Heshen. In case he needed help, she shoved the next body her hands encountered into the light before it winked out.

  The wish stone dropped into the snow, still glowing softly even though its power was spent for the time being. Hyntra rubbed her eyes to clear them of the black afterimages and their purple halos. She bent and scooped up the wish stone. She might need it again later to fetch the last child on her list. That should give it some time to recharge. Would it be enough?

  Hyntra nibbled on her lip as she considered that. She had one other bespelled stone, but it wasn’t as powerful as a wish stone nor as versatile. Well, she might have to use it to get to her next destination. It would take longer than if she could just use the wish stone, but that couldn’t be helped. The babies the spell called for had to be collected before anyone realized what was going on, so her people could get in and out with the babies without delay.

  If only this spell had come into her hands a few days or even a week earlier. Hyntra shoved her hand into her pocket and squeezed it. What fun she could have had with the parents, but alas, that was not to be. Hyntra shrugged off that flash of disappointment. There’d be other fights and other fools to play with.

  “Huntress?” a female faun cleared her throat. The faun was a little on the gangly side, and she had a death-grip on a basket. Something inside that basket mewled. Oh right, the baby they’d just procured.

  “Let me see her.” Hyntra held out her arms to collect the bassinet and inspect its unhappy occupant, but the faun held tightly to it. Her eyes were hard and dark and gave away nothing.

  “Fine, be that way if you must.” Hyntra shook her head.

  Without their proper leader, the Wild Hunt was fragmenting into splinter groups along species lines, and she wasn't helping that by sending all the fauns on the dangerous missions instead of her own kind. But Hyntra sloughed off that concern. Soon, she’d be free of all those petty jealousies to do as she wished. In three days’ time, they’d be someone else’s problem, and the thought made her smile as she reached into the bassinet and lifted the baby out.

  “Be careful. You must support her head and neck like this.” The faun shifted Hyntra’s grip, so the baby's head and neck rested on her arm.

  “Thank you,” Hyntra scowled as she tried to recall this particular faun’s name. Nothing came to mind. Oh well. She turned her attention back to the baby she’d gone to so much trouble to take and wasn’t impressed by it. “So, you’re the witch’s daughter?”

  The baby blinked stupidly at her, but she was only a few months old. Maybe that was normal?

  “Not speaking yet?” Hyntra didn't even try to hide her disappointment.

  Human children were so weak and needy. She’d thought the gifted ones would come into the world better equipped to handle its manifold dangers, of which she was one, but that wasn't the case with this child unless she’d made a mistake. Hyntra juggled the kid until she had a hand free, but the wish-finder stayed dark. Damn, she’d have to verify this child’s identity another way.

  “Here, hold this.” Hyntra handed the baby back to the faun.

  Into the basket, the fussing child went. The wind died as she plucked at the cloth covering the child from head to toe. Only her wind-burned face was visible.

  “She’ll freeze if you unwrap her,” the faun said.

  “True, but I need to know if she’s the one.”

  “And if she is? The chill would be too much for her. Don’t risk it. Wait until we’re somewhere warm to check.” The faun girl lowered her eyes to soften her demand, but that was unnecessary since she had a point.

  “You’re right. If this is the right baby, why chance it? We have barely enough time as it is to get everything in place,” Hyntra conceded.

  A pair of sleepy brown eyes blinked at Hyntra. The poor babe probably couldn’t deci
de what to make of her. “Aww, the little thing must not have ever seen such a perfect blend of human and deer,” Hyntra said to She-Anne, who just nodded as was proper. “And you know what, Witchling? I’m that unique. That’s right, Little One. Gaze in awe at perfection because you’ll only see it again if you’re very lucky.”

  Hyntra struck an imperious pose just for the fun of it, and the baby’s eyes widened as the little drooling thing took in her awesomeness. Perhaps the infant was impressed, after all, smart baby. But was she the one the spell required?

  Hyntra relaxed her stance as she studied what she could see of the baby. Her mum had bundled the kid up too well and in too many layers to see much other than her round little face. But the baby’ eyes bothered Hyntra. Only the non-magical had dull brown eyes. If this child was the daughter of an earth witch, her eyes should be some shade of green.

  “What is it, Huntress? What do you sense?” asked the faun whose name she still hadn’t asked.

  “Hmm? Oh, I don’t like that I can’t feel the gift in her. That usually means it’s absent. I don’t want to haul a mundane child along or have to care for it.”

  “But it’s only for a few days.” The faun shifted the bassinet as she scanned the trampled snow and the downed tent for more reasons to take the baby along. The basket must be growing heavy in her grip. That baby wasn't light. “Her mother comes from a long line of witches, right?”

  “If we followed the right girl, yes.” But Hyntra had doubts about that. She stalked back over to the jumble of canvas that had been a tent until she’d dropped in for a visit.

  The baby’s eyes followed her, and Hyntra bet the child was staring at the lump that was her unconscious mother—a girl of about twenty who answered to the name, Robin. At first, Hyntra sensed nothing except the girl—for that’s what she was despite her tough persona—just a lost little girl who was in way over her head.