by E. A. Copen
DEMO—the Department for Ethical Magical Operations—was the one remnant of the old Coalition government that had held on. They regulated magic across the twelve kingdoms, and investigated magical crimes. At least, that’s what they claimed. There had been rumors ever since the fall of the Coalition, though, that DEMO was involved in some shady business. People pointed the finger at DEMO for assassinations of public figures, accused them of orchestrating economic collapses, and making all kinds of mysterious things disappear or reappear without explanation. Kingdoms rose and fell in power based on their interactions with DEMO, and guilds were at their mercy if they wanted to continue operating.
Whenever they got involved, trouble followed.
“What does DEMO want with Ash?” I asked.
“No idea.” Dex shook his head. “But what he was offering was enough that, when I saw how close you and Ash were, I figured you must know something.”
I lifted a doubtful eyebrow. “So you thought it would be smart to sneak into my room while I was asleep?”
“I couldn’t very well go through your things while you were awake now, could I?”
I sighed and lowered the knife. Dex wouldn’t be any trouble, not now that I had him cornered. “Only an idiot would admit to searching through my stuff.”
“Really? I find honesty is the best policy. People threaten me less.”
I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away from the window, dragging him toward the door. “What were you hoping to find, anyway?”
“Not really sure. The DEMO agent didn’t specify. But I figured if anyone knew anything, it’d be you. I mean, I could’ve broken into his room, I guess, but he has guards posted. Armed guards. Did I mention I don’t like the idea of being stabbed?”
I let him go near the door. “Did it ever occur to you that if you wanted to get to know him, you should just talk to him?”
He shrugged and reached up to adjust his stupid cowboy hat. “No offense, but he didn’t exactly strike me as a guy who’d willingly spill his guts. Besides, what was I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Dex. Glad to meet you. DEMO is paying me to get information about you. What’s your favorite color?”
I sighed again and slid past him to open the door. One of Ash’s people was waiting outside, obviously standing guard. He hadn’t told me he was putting a guard at my door, and the realization that he had just made me angrier. I slammed the door shut on the bleary-eyed guard before ever shoving Dex out.
Then I turned and put my back to the door, giving Dex a questioning look. “If there’s a guard outside, then how did you get inside?”
He rolled his eyes. “Please. You’re only two stories up. I could scale that wall in my sleep. Not that I would. Not that I should’ve. I mean, I’m clearly in the wrong here, but you can’t really blame me for Ash’s crap security. Although, I guess it’s not his job to secure the hotel, is it? Or maybe it is? You know what? I’m going to stop talking now because the look you’re giving me says it’d be good for my health.”
I marched past him to the window, which was secured and locked. Had I checked the locks before I went to bed? Probably not. I’d been so distracted dealing with Ash and worrying about the hunt that it hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Just the same, I opened the window and peered down a sheer stone wall where all the vines had been cleared away. If Dex had scaled that wall, climbed in through the window, and searched my room all without making a sound, he had some serious skill. I wasn’t a light sleeper.
“So, I heard you spooked Jesker yesterday. The dwarf blacksmith? What did you say to Jesker that left him so spooked?” Dex asked, shifting closer.
I shrugged. “Nothing, really. And it’s none of your business, either.”
“See, this is why nobody just asks people stuff. You could be polite, you know.”
I grabbed Dex and pushed him to the window. “You can go out like you came in. And if I see you before we get on the road, I’m going to knock out your front teeth. Understand?”
He leaned over the windowsill, looking down with a cringe. “If you insist.” He gripped the sides of the window and thrust his body through it with a spin.
I immediately leaned out the window, expecting to find him cradling a broken arm or something on the concrete below. Instead, he landed with all the grace of a professional acrobat, rose, saluted me, and ran off.
“What a character.” I shook my head and made sure I locked the window behind him.
Downstairs, I grabbed a quick slice of buttered toast and rushed out to meet the rest of the hunting party. Everyone was already there, tightening saddle straps or taking inventory. Horses stamped impatient hooves against the pavement. Three wagons full of provisions and their driving teams stood in a line, waiting for the signal to go.
Ash rode up on the back of a beautiful white stallion, pulling along a smoky gray mare with black legs and a black muzzle. He smiled, dismounted, and walked the mare up to me, handing me the reins. “I noticed you didn’t ride in on a horse last night. Ember, meet Scorch.”
“She’s beautiful.” I patted the horse on the shoulder.
Scorch shook her head.
I frowned. “But Ash, I can’t accept it. I know how much a horse costs.”
“It’s less a gift and more an investment,” Ash replied. “Otherwise, you’d have to ride with the wagons, and I’d much rather have you at the front with me where your skills can do some good.” He smiled, nodded, and returned to his horse.
“Well, I suppose I should know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth,” I said to Scorch. “You know, I never really understood that saying.”
Scorch shook her head as if to say, “Me neither.”
Eyes burned on the back of my neck. I turned and found the necromancer woman from the day before staring me down. She held her vampires on leashes made of chain and sturdy, studded leather. She narrowed her eyes at me and then stormed in my direction.
Scorch shifted, uneasy with the vampires’ approach. I moved to place myself between the horse and the vampires. “Hi, I’m Ember Dixon.”
She halted three paces away, making no move to greet me. “I know who you are, Poacher.”
“I’m on this hunt just like everyone else.”
“But you’re not, are you? Like everyone else?” She gestured to Scorch. “First the hug at the tavern, then the room, and now a horse? He’s quite taken with you, isn’t he?”
“It’s not like that. We know each other from before. Besides, it’s not like I asked for any of this. I just want to help.”
She took two steps forward, dragging her vampires along with her. I had to put a hand on Scorch to steady her.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Poacher,” said the necromancer. “Ash doesn’t belong to you. His job is to lead this hunt and my job is to ensure that he’s effective at his. If you so much as bat your pretty little eyelashes at him and distract him…” She smirked and leaned back. “Well, let’s just say a lot of bad things can happen to an unprepared poacher out here. Wander off at night and they might never find the body.”
I smiled and laughed because what else could I do? “Are you jealous or something? Because, Honey, you don’t need to threaten me.”
She snorted. “Jealous? Of you? Please. I have more power in my finger than you do in your entire body.”
“Look, Ash is a big boy, and he can do what he wants with whomever he wants. Not that I’m that person. Like I said. I’m just here to hunt.”
She wrapped the vampire chains once around her fists. “That had better be true. Just know that I don’t trust you. I’m watching you, Poacher. Don’t screw up.” She turned and walked away, pulling her vampires behind her.
“I see you’ve met Anastazia,” Ash said from behind me.
“Yeah, she’s a real charmer.” I adjusted Scorch’s saddle and started packing my gear into saddle bags.
“Zia means well,” Ash said with a shrug.
I stopped packing and turned to Ash.
“Why even have an Institute necromancer and her vampires along? How are they going to help take down an elder dragon?”
“Zia is more than just some institute necromancer to me, Ember. She was there when I woke up and she hasn’t left my side ever since. She’s part of the Institute, yes, but I also consider her a friend and protector. I wouldn’t have found you without her help. As for how she and her vampires will help… Well, they can go places that would be too dangerous for us. Vampires make excellent scouts.”
“Until that mind-control circlet falls off or breaks,” I mumbled. “Then Zia loses control, and the vampires slaughter us all.”
Ash smirked. “Have a little faith in other people, Ember. Zia is a professional, one of the best. She knows what she’s doing. Let her do her job, and you do yours. We’ll all get along better that way.”
“As long as she and her vampire dogs stay the hell away from me.” I hooked a foot in the stirrup and pulled myself up onto Scorch’s back.
On horseback, I scanned the crowd of people behind me and spotted Ike on his chestnut mare alongside Foggy, his mohawked dwarf friend. On the far side of the courtyard, as far away as possible, Dex leaned lazily in the saddle of a spotted white Appaloosa. He grinned and winked at me when he saw me looking at him.
I made sure both my sword and knife were within reach.
Ash and his horse trotted up and down the main line, conversing with the wagon drivers and a few others before he rode quickly back to the front. “Hunters!” His voice rang clear and strong through the courtyard. “First, I want to thank everyone here. We have a long and arduous journey ahead of us. I know it’s difficult to ask you to leave your homes, your families, your guilds for such an extended hunt. I promise you the spoils will be well worth it. When you next set foot in the Kingdom of Atlanta, it will be with more than extra cash. When we slay this beast, you will be heroes. They’ll write songs about this hunt and tell the tale in every corner of every kingdom. You will return as legends.”
Zia thrust her fist into the air and shouted, “For fame and glory!”
The sound of dozens of swords being drawn and thrust into the air at the same time rang through the courtyard as everyone echoed her words.
I kept my blades where they belonged, tucked neatly inside their sheathes. The pep talks were all for show. I didn’t need the theatrics to get me pumped up. Besides, all the excitement would wear off by mid-day when we picked through dense forest in single file, the heat and humidity bearing down on us.
“We ride for Black Mountain!” Ash turned his horse and spurred it forward, leading the charge out of the courtyard.
Zia followed, but not before shooting a smirk in my direction.
Whips snapped. Wagon drivers whistled and wooden wagon wheels groaned with effort. Hooves thundered out of the courtyard and into the streets of Atlanta, carrying hunters and their supplies, necromancers, mages, and would-be heroes.
I rode with them, wondering how many we’d lose on the way there. Hunger, thirst, difficult terrain, raids by bandits, monsters, sickness… Many things could dwindle a hunting party that size down to just a few good men by the time we reached our destination. No wonder Ash had enlisted so many.
A vision of the creature from my nightmare flashed through my mind. It had felt so real. I swore I could feel the thing’s breath on my face as it charged.
I shook my head and closed my fist around Scorch’s reins as we crested a small hill overlooking the city gates. For five miles beyond the city, there was nothing. All the trees had been cleared so that the city watch could keep the place free of monsters. Beyond that waited a no-man's-land of mountains, monsters, and magic. Hungry rifts grew unchecked, waiting to swallow any of us foolish enough to wander too close. Trolls, dragons, ogres, and even the undead hid in those trees, standing between us and our prey.
Focus on what’s real, Ember. There are plenty of nightmares waiting for you out there. No need to invent your own. I nudged Scorch to move faster and joined Ash at the front of the procession.
Ahead, the city gates opened with a groan that shook the ground.
Ash glanced over and smiled. “Ready?”
I smiled back. “Last one through’s a rotten troll egg,” I said and urged Scorch even faster.
Chapter Eight
The first day’s ride was always the easiest. People were still eager, full of excitement. The road and rough terrain hadn’t yet worn them down, partially because we didn’t hit any rough terrain for several hours.
After passing through the initial clearing around Atlanta, we moved into a forest. The trees were sparse at first, but became thicker the further in we went. Eventually, the trees were so plentiful and their trunks so thick, the only way to pass was in single file. Branches full of whispering leaves blocked the sunlight from striking the forest floor. In the canopy above, birds sang, and other small mammals moved from branch to branch, watching us with curious eyes.
I peered up at the intertwined branches and wondered at the age of the oldest trees. The area had been home to trees and forests long before the Cataclysm—the appearance of the first rifts. Littered among the trees, however, were the ruins of suburban life, buried for generations. When the rifts opened, and the walls went up, people abandoned the unprotected suburbs in droves. Nature reclaimed the land, driven in part by the strange magic that invaded the world. After the Cataclysm plants grew faster, larger, and stranger.
Ivy and kudzu dripped off the frame of a three-story plantation-style home off to our right. Doves had made a nest in the uppermost window. Little white flowers bloomed in a coil around an old mailbox, the address too rusted to read. Broken chain-link fences became latticework for creeping vines, abandoned playgrounds gardens for exotic weeds. Banks and schools, libraries and shops, trailers and mansions… Nature didn’t care. Given time, vines and moss tore it all down. Plants were patient creatures.
I looked at the world around me and wondered if our ancestors believed they’d tamed the land they lived on. Could they have imagined how easily nature would reclaim it?
The gobble of a pair of wild turkeys drew my attention to the other side of the procession. I had never loved turkeys for their looks, but this pair was particularly ugly. They were larger than a normal turkey, with patchy feathers and sharp teeth. When they opened their wings to warn us away, it revealed sharp barbs on their wings.
We rode by them, paying them no mind. Nature hadn’t changed those turkeys as much as the magic had. I wasn’t educated enough to understand the why and how of magic’s effects on indigenous species. As long as it wasn’t bothering us, though, I was content to ignore it. We’d run into worse along the way.
By midday, the hunting party had stretched into a long, single file line with several gaps. There were clear divides between the group traveling with Ash, Ike’s people, and those with Dex. Those divides only widened as the day went on and stayed visible even when we stopped to make camp for the night. Dex’s people stayed with him, Ike’s with him, and Ash’s people around him.
Rather than choose a group to stick with, I set up my camp at the edge of the small clearing where I could see everyone coming and going. I had just finished rolling out my bed roll and arranging things inside my tent when I heard two men arguing. I climbed out of the tent and stood up, bracing my back with both hands.
Well, surprise, surprise, I thought as I watched Kenny—Dex’s man—try to stare down Foggy, Ike’s dwarf friend.
“Now, look here, ya brick-headed loon,” spat Foggy, pointing to the ground. “I put my lines down first. It’s clearly marked. You’ve got to leave a bloody path!”
“I was here first!” Kenny shouted. “You’re taking up more than your fair share of space.”
“My fair share?” Foggy puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. “I’m usin’ the same space as everyone else.”
“Yeah, but you’re half the size of everyone else, so you only get half the space.” Kenny bent over to yank one of Foggy’s ten
t stakes out of the ground.
Foggy retaliated by stepping on Kenny’s fingers, pinning his hand to the dirt. “Ya best rethink putting your dirty fingers on my gear if’n you want to see sunrise, dytheirn.”
Kenny gritted his teeth and snarled up at the dwarf, his free hand sliding toward the knife hidden in his boot.
I rushed to intervene, but they were still far away. If Kenny drew his knife, I’d never make it before he stabbed the dwarf. Ike and Dex also stopped what they were doing and moved toward the altercation. It was Ash who got there first, arriving with his hand already resting on the hilt of his sword.
Ash eyed Kenny and then Foggy. “What’s the problem here, gentlemen?”
“No problem,” said Foggy, withdrawing his boot. “Just a polite conversation with a human about the best way to put down tent lines. Wouldn’t want any of our people tripping over them in the dark.”
“Is that so?” Ash directed his question to Kenny.
Kenny grinned widely and wiped dirt from his hand onto his shirt. “Just a friendly conversation.”
Ash didn’t seem convinced. His eyes darted back and forth between the two before turning around to address Dex and Ike, who’d crept up closer. “I want to make something clear. I realize there’s some rivalry in the ranks that pre-dates my arrival, but in the interests of the entire group, you must put that aside. Out here, we are all relying on each other to survive. Division at any level can grow into something fatal.”
“Don’t preach to us like we’ve never been out here before.” Dex crossed his arms and leaned back.
“We know what’s at stake,” Ike agreed.
Ash took two quick steps forward, moving to stand toe to toe with Ike. “Do you?” He spoke in a voice near a whisper, but there was a certain darkness to the way he said it, as if he knew something the rest of us didn’t.
I shivered and moved out of the deep shadow, into a pool of evening light coming through the tree canopy.
