“I’m okay now. I can maintain.” Robin squared her shoulders and raised her head so she could look Strella in the eyes. “Let's get Cat ready to travel and get out of here.” She glanced at their ruined tent and shivered. There was no way they could stay here, not even for an hour.
“Agreed. I'll feel better once we've put some miles between us and this place.”
Strella accepted the bandage Robin held out to her and pressed it against the wound in Cat’s side. Either the cold had slowed the bleeding, or that cut was shallower than it looked. Robin hoped it was the latter. She had no idea where their chunk of red lumir crystal had ended up, and it was the only thing out here capable of producing heat. That was reason enough to seek better shelter.
“I meant what I said before. This isn’t their usual M.O.,” Robin said as she pushed the grief down until it was a hard lump in her throat.
“And what is their M.O.? I’ve never really paid much attention to any of the rumors about them. Until tonight, I thought they were just an old wives’ tale.”
“Well, they’re not.”
Strella shot her a look. “Tell me what you know about them, and we’ll go from there.”
“All I have are rumors, and they paint a different picture of the Wild Hunt.” And it was terrifying thinking of her fragile daughter in their clutches. I must save her, somehow. Robin squeezed the bandages in her hands.
“Maybe it wasn’t them,” Strella said, warming to the subject. “I heard they—”
“It was them. I saw their leader. There’s no way someone counterfeited her,” Robin interrupted.
“But I've never heard of them taking anyone younger than fifteen,” Strella said, unwilling to let go of her theory even if it was more than a little crazy.
“It was them, and I need to figure out why they took my daughter. Because you’re right about one thing—this is out of character for them. They must have had a compelling reason to take her.”
Robin shoved the rising tide of grief down before it could overwhelm her. She could indulge in it later. Now was for action, not weeping. Strella gave Robin a respectful nod when she didn’t dissolve into tears again, and that strengthened her resolve. Strella was still a stranger in many regards, and they’d likely part ways soon. But for now, Strella would help shoulder this burden, and that might make all the difference.
Strella grimaced as her attention slipped back to their patient. “Damn it. This is going to need stitches. Get me a needle, and for God’s sake, find a way to sterilize it!”
“I'm on it. Put pressure on that wound in the meantime.”
As Robin hurried over to their ruined tent, she scanned the snowdrifts, hoping and praying for some sign of which direction her daughter’s kidnappers had gone, but there still wasn't any. The wind had scoured away all trace of them except one. A white thread had caught on one of the uprooted tent poles.
Robin crouched down carefully, keeping her back ramrod straight to keep from jarring the bruise between her shoulder blades. The thread was white like the Huntress’ cloak, and it fluttered like an invitation. As Robin untangled it, the thread glowed a soft silver. How strange. No part of the Huntress’ regalia had glowed.
But this thread must be a clue of some kind else why would it be here? Robin wound the thread around her wrist, and its ends merged together, forming a circle with no end or beginning before she could even think to knot it. Robin ran her gloved finger along that hair-thin, luminous cord. Maybe it would lead her to her daughter’s captors.
After all, the smallest details were sometimes the most important. “Let this thread be one of those,” she prayed and hoped someone up there was listening.
“Hey, hurry up with that needle,” Strella shouted, startling Robin out of her reverie.
“Give me a minute to find it.”
Robin turned her attention to the snowy canvas and started digging around under it. There must be something in their gear that could help Cat, and she would find it.
Chapter 4
Hyntra held a hand up to shield her eyes from the snow, but those pesky flakes kept falling into them no matter what she did. The ride thus far had been fraught with annoyances thanks to the weather. It would make it hard for that girl, Robin, to follow her, and that was a problem because that twit owed her a better fight.
But Hyntra had no guarantee Robin would follow her, just hope because she was spoiling for a fight. But hope wasn’t a plan, so Hyntra reined in and clapped her hands. The sound rolled like thunder through the forest. Maybe it would wake that irritating girl up and get her moving toward a proper confrontation. If not, this next bit certainly would.
“Hear me, creatures of change. I have a task for you.”
Yips mixed with howls and quite a few growls and Hyntra bit her lip to keep from laughing as eight pairs of luminescent green eyes populated the shadows under the enchanted trees. Those eyes belonged to a pack of fools who’d made a pact with the Wild Hunt’s true leader and broke it. Now, their lives belonged to the Wild Hunt to spend as they saw fit.
Those broken oaths collared them and forced them to do her bidding since she was currently the leader of the Wild Hunt. Oh, it was good to be the Huntress. Hyntra tossed her dark mane over her shoulder. “On that mountain, there’s a girl. Hunt her. She’s your prey.”
If Robin had any skills at all, magical or otherwise, these creatures would draw it out of her. They’d harry her and hound her, honing her into a weapon aimed right at the Wild Hunt, or the girl would die by their jaws thus saving Hyntra the time and annoyance of another subpar matchup. But if they succeeded, oh what a fight that would be if the girl thrived. Hyntra shivered in anticipation.
A gray wolf padded out of the shadows into the green nimbus of light the finder stone cast. It was the alpha. A green collar made of luminous green words bound him, and his pack, to her. He was twice as large as a regular wolf and possessed the cunning of a man. The lower half of his face rippled and flowed as it reshaped itself to produce human speech. Hyntra watched the process in fascination.
“You want us to kill her?” asked the skin-changer.
Hyntra shrugged. “I don’t care what you do to her. I don’t want to face her unless she can give me a fight to remember. I refuse to fight a weakling. Is that clear?”
The wolf cocked his head to one side in thought. “But you want her to chase you?”
“Of course.”
It was the deer in her. It feared the hunt and the chase because it was prey. But Hyntra was also partly human and partly magical, and those two parts were hunters. Sometimes, the hunter wanted to be hunted. It made the kill so much more satisfying when the prey thought it was the hunter.
Hyntra sighed and fanned herself. A flush crept over her skin under her fur at just the thought of someone hunting her. It had been so long since anyone had dared. Not even the Rangers would cross her. They’d sent embassies and offered truces, all of which she’d scoffed at, but she hadn’t been the leader then. Hyntra turned her mind away from that before it could anger her. She needed a cool head right now.
“Do you understand your orders?”
“You want us to hunt this girl, but you want her to hunt you. But you also don’t want to face her unless she’s a match for you. Have I got that right?” asked the wolf.
There was something dark and dangerous in his eyes. If he ever broke free from the collar binding him to the Wild Hunt, he would kill her. His eyes promised that. Hyntra felt her claws tickle the pads of her fingers.
She put those thoughts away before she got too hot and bothered to carry out her plan. The spell-marked cloth in her pocket picked that moment to vibrate like an aspen in the wind, reminding Hyntra that she had her own tasks to carry out. This furry distraction needed to end now. “Not quite. I want you to kill her but play with her first. If she survives, then she’ll deserve a rematch. If she can find me. Is that clear?”
The wolf bowed his head to hide the murder in his eyes, and Hyntra wanted to cr
ow with joy. If only she knew how, she’d set that wolf free right now just for a chance to thrash something. But she had no idea how to do that. The former leader of the Wild Hunt had left no instructions about that or anything, which was why they’d stagnated in the time since. But that was all about to change if she kept to the plan.
Hyntra blinked and the Skinwalkers were eight more shadows slipping through the late-night gloom. She smiled at that image as she nudged her mount into a trot.
If Robin prevailed over them, then she’d make a much better opponent when they met again. If Robin died, then she wasn’t worth a rematch, and Hyntra would have her answer about the girl’s baby.
She smiled at the simplicity of her plan as the sleeping forest flashed past. Onward they rode to the mage she meant to take led by the thin green beam emanating from the green crystal nestled between her breasts.
Chapter 5
A clap of thunder startled Robin out of her reverie, but it was the wail echoing through the mountains that broke her heart. She stifled a sob and focused on the length of rope in her gloved hand, but her daughter’s name slipped out before she could stop it, “Rosalie.”
Robin blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling. “Not now,” she told herself. “You can cry later. You need to finish this thing.” Because it was Cat’s only way off the mountain. The swordswoman hadn’t regained consciousness yet.
‘Thing’ was an appropriate description for the contraption lying on the snow in front of Robin. It had started out as a stretcher fashioned from four tent poles—two to a side—with a person-sized swath of canvas in between. But the thought of carrying it had convinced Robin to alter it, so it was sled-like and could slide over the powdery snow. Robin had dug through the snow around the thankfully non-enchanted trees clinging to the precipice where they’d camped in search of dead branches to line the bottom and act as rails, in theory, anyway.
Robin regarded her crude take on a sled, she wasn’t certain if she’d improved on her original idea or ruined it altogether. That was one of the reasons Robin had chosen to build it by a stand of trees instead of by the tent. She hadn’t wanted any witnesses in case her idea hadn’t worked.
Snow crunched behind Robin, and she turned to find Strella standing there, rubbing her upper arms to warm herself. Strella stopped and stared at her.
“Did you think I’d leave you and Cat in a lurch like this?” Robin tied off the rope in her hands. It was as done as it could get with the materials on hand.
“Why would you even think something like that?” Strella stared at Robin as if she'd gone mad. Maybe she had. Strella scrubbed her gloved hands over her face. “Don’t answer that. You’re grieving, and that grief has addled your mind.”
“No, it hasn’t. You looked at me with surprise like you thought I’d already gone after them.”
“Well, you did disappear from view a while ago.” Strella lowered her hands and stuffed them into her coat pockets.
“I had to go where the branches are.” Robin waved to the spindly trees listing from the constant bombardment of the wind. “Even if I had the energy, I’m not like that. I don’t leave behind the people who help me. I help them in return.”
Robin toed the thing half buried in the snow. It looked more like a reinforced stretcher than a sled, but it’d kept her busy while Strella had gotten Cat ready to travel.
“What is that thing? It looks like our tent mated with a tree.”
“It kind of did, but it had help.” Robin couldn’t help but grin at the silly bend their conversation had taken. She wished her path and Strella’s didn’t have to part ways. Maybe it wouldn’t. Robin clung to that hope as Strella squatted down and examined Cat’s conveyance.
“Where did you get the branches from? The enchanted forest has this rule about cutting it down. I’ve heard it can get quite violent if you even think about trying.” Strella pushed on the canvas-covered center and tried to hide her surprise when the makeshift sled didn’t fall apart.
“But you can still bend them. They only get upset if you break them. That’s why I used deadfall. I just tied them together into a canoe-shaped contraption we can drag over the snow.”
“Canoe-shaped? Girl, you and I must have different definitions of ‘canoes’ because this thing isn’t canoe-shaped. It’s too square.”
“It has to be wide enough to fit Cat.”
“What exactly is it?”
“It’s a sled. Well, it’s a crude take on one anyway. It’s what the Rangers use to transport their wounded.”
“How do we move it?”
“I have some rope left. I figured we’d just tie it to that thing there and loop the rest like this.” Robin tied the rope to a branch on the undercarriage then wound it around her torso twice crossways, so the two crossings made an X in the center of her chest. “Then we pull.”
“Huh. You think we could fit some of our gear on there?” Strella’s gaze turned speculative as she ran it over the sled.
“I don’t see why not. This thing should slide over that powdery stuff easily enough, but we shouldn’t make it too heavy in case we have to carry it.” Robin tossed a handful of snow into the air, and the flakes sparkled like diamond dust in the light of the lumir crystal dangling from a button on her coat.
“Good point.” Strella clapped her hands together then rubbed them vigorously to warm them. It was time to go before the cold made them torpid. “I’ll get our gear. You drag that thing over to where I left Cat.”
Robin nodded absently. Her gaze was still caught by those dispersing flakes. If only she had a mage. Another wail echoed through the mountains. That mournful cry chilled her right down to the marrow and left her shaking. But she found nothing but snow.
The warrior within screamed at her to get up and go find her baby, but Robin just sat there, staring at the wind-blown snow that had hidden the Wild Hunt’s tracks. Hang on, Rosalie, Mommy’s coming. No mountain or monster can keep me from you. Robin shook out her fists and probed her aching head.
“Was that your baby I just heard?” Strella asked in a gentle tone.
Robin wiped her eyes before answering, but her voice still broke when she spoke. “I don't know.”
“Sorry, that was an insensitive thing to ask. You can't know for sure what made that wailing sound.”
Strella squeezed her shoulder as Robin fought the tears pricking her eyes. Hysterics wouldn’t save her daughter. Robin had to hold it together until she found help, preferably of the magical variety. The best way to track a paranormal predator was to sic someone with a similar gift on them. Where the hell could she find such a person out here in the hinterlands?
She’d worry about that later. Robin rose stiffly. The pain in her back had receded to a dull ache, but that too was fading as the cold sank massaging fingers into it. Who knew that cold air was so good for aches and pains?
Robin might be able to hike through what was left of the night. Hopefully, dawn wasn't too far off because they could use the light. It was impossible to tell with the sky so clouded. Part of her hoped the Wild Hunt didn't have that big of a lead, but it was possible since they’d attacked just after nightfall. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious.
“Let’s grab what we need and go.” Robin picked up her rucksack and bow case and set them on the sled.
“You’re still headed to Mount Eredren, right?” Strella regarded her with a raised brow that vanished under her wool hat, but that wasn't the question the warrior woman had really wanted to ask.
Robin nodded. “It’s the closest settlement.” It was also her only option because she had no frigging clue where else to go. Robin had already searched the area around their campsite and found not a single hoof print or disturbed branch. She just prayed the delay wouldn’t cost her too dearly.
“Then what will you do?”
“I’ll ask them for help. They must have tangled with the Wild Hunt before. They might know how to find them.”
And if that failed, R
obin shut that line of thought down as she took an experimental step forward and the rope pulled taut. The sled slid forward and followed her like an obedient dog. Strella didn’t ask the question foremost on Robin’s mind, ‘how will you find your daughter?’ Robin just kept putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring that question because she had no answer yet.
“Robin?” Strella gave her a worried look as the wind played with her striped scarf.
“It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will find her.”
“I know you will.”
“Thanks. Can we go now? What else do you need other than Cat?”
“Just a few things, I need only a moment to grab them.”
Strella picked up the second rope that lay in the snow and tied it to the end of the sled then looped it around her chest for the walk back to camp. It wasn’t far, maybe two hundred paces over a deep snowbank. “So, how do we find Mount Eredren in the dark with no sun to guide us?” Strella asked as they hiked.
“With this.” Robin fished her compass out of her pocket.
Her coat was as red as her brigandine, not light colored like Strella’s, making her very conspicuous against the snow. But it was too late to switch that since this was the only coat Robin owned. She held the compass close to the lumir crystal hanging off her coat button, so its silver light illuminated the needle. Then, she turned until it pointed southward at a bright spike off in the distance.
“Hmm, that must be Mount Eredren. I heard there’s so much lumir there; its peak glows.” Strella paused as they reached Cat’s side. The stricken swordswoman had been rolled up in several blankets and a thick, luxurious fur throw covered that. “Get her feet. I’ll lift her head and torso.”
“I’ve heard that too.” Robin did as requested, and they lifted Cat onto the sled. “We should put the rest of the canvas on top of her to keep her dry.”
“Hmm? Oh, right, that’s a good idea,” Strella said as she stared into the darkness. “If that's Mount Eredren, then what are those lights racing toward it?” Strella pointed at the pinpoints of white light that were vanishing into the darkness below.
Hunter's Night Page 4
