Eamon gave one of his growl-laughs and disappeared outside.
I sat in the bath until the water went cold and the painkillers kicked in. By the time I’d dressed and gone downstairs, the sun had made its way to the far side of the canyon. Light slanted in through the west-facing windows, and I paused to appreciate the fiery glow it cast. A few more hours of daylight remained, but the red rocks that rose up around us meant sunset came much earlier here in the canyon. Already, half the canyon had been swallowed by ever-growing shadows.
Something about the gathering darkness sent a chill down my spine. It was probably my wet hair and the chill that crept in now that the scorching sun was nearly gone. The desert was cold at night. Still, I turned away from the window and made my way to the kitchen, opting for water rather than the dregs of coffee still sitting in the pot from this morning. The house was utterly quiet and even though I knew the men were safe enough in a group; it left me unsettled after everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
Moving slowly, I re-bandaged my wound and rubbed some salve into my hip. When that was done, I stood on the porch and stared out at the distance, lost in thought and trying to ignore the ache in my side.
So far, the past twenty-four hours had been the most eventful of my entire life—at least that I could recall. Between Xander—my forever chosen, apparently—and escaping death by Shadow monsters, I wasn’t lonely anymore. That should have been good news. For five years, I’d tried to prove to Peter—and myself—that his company was enough. That the isolation hadn’t rooted inside me. That was a lie I’d become all too aware of especially since I’d met Kate. In less than a day, Xander and Eamon had shown me there was more out there than just blending in and staying hidden. No matter what happened next, everything had already changed. Except that I still wasn’t convinced this was a change for the better.
While I stared into the distance, two shapes appeared. Nothing more than silhouettes from this far out. Two horses each with a rider and by their side, a giant wolf nearly the size of Nightingale. So Peter had gone with them on their little cleanup mission. No wonder the house was so quiet.
I waited for them, wondering if I should approach Peter now about his plans for us or wait and ambush him at dinner. I was tired of the secrets—and pretending I hadn’t heard them last night. But when they got close enough, I noticed the way Peter’s arm was folded in tight against his body.
And Eamon…
Blood coated his fur underneath his chin, matting his coat.
My breath caught. A scream built but I swallowed it.
A second later, I was down the steps and racing for them, bruises be damned. It wasn’t until I got close that I realized how fast they were traveling. Nightingale and Archer were both moving at a dead run and Eamon was trailing behind.
Trailing.
I’d heard enough already to know Eamon should have smoked them with ease.
Panic bubbled up, and I shoved it down, running as fast as my body would go right now. My hip throbbed but I ignored it.
I met them at the barn and reached for Archer’s bridle, already moving over to help Peter down. Xander slid to his feet and was beside me before Peter’s boots met the dirt. When he straightened, he wobbled, and I slid in to steady him.
“What happened?” I demanded.
“Ambush,” Peter managed as Xander moved to Peter’s other side and slid an arm around Peter’s waist for support.
“Are you okay?” I asked Eamon who now stood before me, panting heavily.
“I’m fine. Not all the blood is mine,” he assured me. Then he looked up at Peter. “But the cloaking spell is weakened with Peter so injured. We don’t have much time.”
“I know.” Peter nodded thanks at Xander and then pulled free of us both. He wobbled slightly and then steadied himself again, waving me off. “Get Archer into the barn and feed and water him. Same with Nightingale. Keep them saddled and pack what feed you can for them. I’ll be right back.”
“What? Why?” I asked, my voice rising in panic.
“We’re leaving and we’re using the horses to get out,” Peter said.
“Now?” I asked.
“Now,” Peter said before taking off at a limp-run for the house.
“I’m going to watch the perimeter,” Eamon said and lumbered back the way they’d come. I stared after him, frozen.
An arm brushed mine, and I blinked, snapping out of it as Xander reached for Nightingale’s reins.
“I’ve got it,” I assured him, yanking the reins out of his reach. He didn’t argue with me as I hurried into the barn to do what Peter had asked.
Inside the barn, Xander and I worked to prepare the horses. He didn’t speak, though, and stuck to Archer, letting me handle Nightingale.
I was glad for his competence with the animals—and for the silence. I had a zillion questions but there wasn’t time. Besides, I didn’t need to be told what the threat was here. Because there was only one thing that could make all three of the men panic like this. Shadows. We were vulnerable.
Our time was running out.
None of my questions mattered until we were safe again.
“She’s not hurt,” Xander assured me, and I looked up from where I’d been scanning Nightingale for injuries. Again.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
He nodded. I stopped inspecting her, but in my head, I probed her for details. What the hell happened out there?
Nightingale responded with a flurry of images that sent me reeling. Two dead Shadows decomposing on the ground where we’d left them last night. Xander digging a hole to bury them. Four Shadows attacking from behind. Xander wielding his electric bolts like bayonets. Eamon ripping throats. And Peter…
Peter had nearly been blindsided and killed by a fifth Shadow.
Panic bubbled in my throat as I realized one of the Shadows had escaped. And now it was out there somewhere, probably calling in reinforcements, waiting us out while he looked for the perfect time to attack. In that moment, I knew exactly what Peter meant when he said we were leaving.
This was it. We were departing Earth—and I was never coming back.
Chapter Nine
My cell phone had one bar of reception and even that wasn’t going to last if we were escaping on horseback. Logically, my priorities should have been a bit more about danger and death and less about phone service, but nothing about my life was logical. Today, especially.
“Shit,” I said as the connection dropped for the third time.
I ended the call and tried again.
“What?” Xander asked as he led Archer from the barn and walked toward me.
The call beeped and then disconnected on its own. Frustration welled up, hot and quick, bordering on desperation.
Not bothering to reply, I shoved past him into the barn and began scouring the small tack room for paper and pen.
Nothing.
My eyes landed on an empty feed bucket and a permanent marker. I grabbed both and ran back to Nightingale’s stall. My handwriting was nearly illegible at first and I forced myself to slow down.
Kate, I had to leave. I’m sorry for doing it this way. You were a better friend than I deserved. Thank you. ~Alina
When I was done—mostly because I’d run out of room on the bucket—I capped the marker and hung the bucket on Nightingale’s stall door.
It would have to be enough.
“Alina, let’s go!” Peter’s voice boomed from the yard.
I dropped the marker in the empty bucket and hurried out. Peter rushed up from the direction of the house, a backpack slung over his good shoulder. His injured arm was now wrapped in a sling he’d bought a few years back when I’d fallen off Nightingale. The smiley faces I’d drawn in permanent red marker were faded but still there. For some weird reason, the sight of them comforted me a little. Peter was going to be okay… Right?
“Shouldn’t I pack something?” I asked, breathless from worry more than physical exertion.
“No time,” he said and ushered us to the horses.
I offered Peter a hand as he slid a foot into Archer’s stirrup. There was no point arguing with him about a few pairs of underwear. Not when Peter was already injured and paler than I’d ever seen him. I just hoped Kate would forgive me for doing this. And that the good people of Bardawulf had underwear to spare.
This time, Xander didn’t wait for an invitation before he lifted himself into the saddle atop Nightingale’s back. When he offered his hand to me, I grabbed it and let him hoist me up behind him. Then I gave myself only a split second to hesitate before I wound my arms around Xander’s middle and held tight.
It might have gone down as the single best feeling in the world: holding on tight to, literally, the guy of my dreams. Except that we were fleeing death with no guarantee any of us would live until tomorrow.
I decided not to overthink it and just held on.
Peter looked over at us, gave Xander a grim nod, and took off across the canyon. We followed closely, and I didn’t let myself look back at the life I was leaving behind.
We ran east and when the trees loomed to our left—the same trees that had gotten me into trouble last night—we veered far right. Southeast now. I had no idea where we were going, but Peter seemed certain.
“Where’s…?” I stopped.
Eamon appeared beside us, his powerful leg muscles rippling as he worked to keep up with us. His mouth hung slightly open and his chest heaved, the patches of dried blood moving up and down as he breathed. He looked terrifying—but even after less than a day together, I knew underneath his scary exterior, he was worried.
So was Peter.
I knew it by the rigid set of his shoulders where he rode just ahead of us.
I tightened my hold on Xander’s middle. Peter’s worry was normal for me, but Eamon’s tension—not to mention the fact that he was covered in Shadow blood—stressed me out.
My glow strained against my ribs, but I shoved it back. The sun had fallen behind the mountains at our backs and the darkness was gathering fast. If I lit up now, every Shadow in the area would see us from a mile off. Peter’s cloaking magic might have hidden me from sight even if I had lit up, but if it was fading, I couldn’t trust it.
Then we passed into the trees.
Whatever was left of Peter’s cloaking before, it didn’t matter. We were beyond it now. We were vulnerable.
Up ahead, Eamon and Peter slowed their pace in order to navigate the crowded landscape. Xander pulled back on Nightingale’s reins—lightly this time and I was grateful—and Nightingale slowed to match them. The slower pace was frustrating and only made my heart beat faster. A Shadow could easily catch us now.
“It’s going to be okay,” Xander said, the wind whipping his words back to me.
My palms were flat against his chest where I held on. It felt like a desperate gesture, but I couldn’t make myself ease up. I needed the contact. “How do you know?”
“There’s a portal not far from here,” Xander said. “We’re almost there. And once we’re through it, we’re safe.”
“There’s also a Shadow still out here somewhere,” I shot back, scanning the trees and the ever-darkening spaces between them.
“That makes one of them against four of us,” Xander pointed out.
I bit my lip to resist the obvious argument: that there could very well be many more than just one. I had a feeling he’d already thought of that and hadn’t mentioned it specifically to keep from scaring me.
I didn’t bother to tell him I was smart enough to see through his attempt—and to be completely terrified.
The only thing that kept the edges of my panic at bay was Xander’s easy calm. His breathing never quickened while his entire body remained utterly relaxed the entire time we picked our way through the darkening woods. I couldn’t understand it, but then he’d seen a lot more battle than I had. Maybe today had been nothing compared to the other fights he’d waged.
Or maybe he knew something I didn’t.
The journey was excruciatingly slow. No one spoke, and with my thoughts whirring along at a thousand miles an hour, I tried to process everything I was leaving behind.
Mostly, I thought about Kate and wondered what she would think when she realized I’d left with no good-bye. I wondered if she would still go to homecoming. I knew something like that was trivial at this point, but these were the things my mind drifted to. Probably out of shock. I thought about our house and about this planet we were leaving that was the only home I knew.
I tried to decide if I would miss it and a few images flashed in my mind. Kate, the view of the cliffs at sunset, the warmth of the sun on my back as Nightingale and I ran through the valley first thing in the morning. Coffee.
Night fell, enveloping us in complete darkness. Up ahead, Peter and Eamon were barely even a silhouette of movement. No one had suggested using our glow to light the way, and I knew they wouldn’t either.
I wanted to ask where—and more importantly, what—this portal actually was. But breaking the silence felt like breaking some cardinal rule. I kept my mouth shut and my arms tightly wound around Xander’s chest.
It could have been hours or minutes, I had no idea. Eventually, we arrived at a small clearing. In the center a single elm tree rose up, different from the others in this forest. Older. Larger. Its trunk twisted strangely in an upward pattern before gnarled branches fell down around us.
We all stopped in front of it and Peter dismounted awkwardly. He and Eamon approached the tree slowly.
I leaned in closer to Xander’s ear. “Why are we stopping?” I whispered.
“We’ve arrived,” Xander said softly.
I blinked, studying the tree in confusion. “This is the portal?”
Eamon rubbed a paw lightly down the tree trunk and the leaves shook despite the lack of a breeze. My breath caught. Eamon didn’t seem fazed though. He simply stood tall and proud before the tree as if waiting for something.
“Her name is Zelkova,” Xander explained.
“But she’s a tree,” I blurted.
The leaves shook again, this time dusting over the top of my head, and I bit back a shriek as the twigs scratched at my head. Nightingale stamped her foot and stepped backward as I did my best to duck out of reach.
Xander chuckled quietly. “She doesn’t like to be insulted.”
“I just call it like it is,” I muttered, eyeing the branches that had gone still above me.
Peter turned back to us. “She is much more than a tree,” he said.
Clearly.
Xander motioned for me to dismount. More than happy to be further from Zelkova’s sneaky reach, I slid to the ground and then stepped back for Xander to do the same.
“I see that,” I said, choosing my words carefully as I looked over at Peter and then the tree. “I just didn’t expect this to be our portal.”
Peter shook his head. “I didn’t think it was possible or I would have mentioned it.”
“It wasn’t, up until the Calling Ceremony,” Xander said.
“Amazing,” Peter murmured.
“So you don’t use ships at all?” I asked.
Xander answered, “When Tharos invaded, he took control of our fleet, including all of our combat vessels. We held on to a couple of cruisers, but they can’t travel fast enough if we’re pursued.”
“Xander’s right,” Peter said. “Tree-warping allows much faster travel so a journey thousands of light-years away takes only minutes. The more experienced the tree, the faster and easier the journey.” Peter’s voice had taken on a professorial tone as he answered a question I hadn’t even asked. When Peter was stressed, he liked to teach.
“Ready?” Eamon asked.
We all nodded. Although, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be ready for.
Eamon spoke quietly to Zelkova using words I didn’t understand. His voice was low, and the cadence was rhythmic, different from the language he’d used when we’d me
t. As Eamon spoke, Zelkova’s branches started to sway. It would have seemed normal if any of the other trees were moving too.
In the wind her branches created, I could hear a whisper of voices. It wasn’t English or any other language I recognized and the rhythm matched Eamon’s. It sped faster until the whisper was the wind itself, a rushing, like a waterfall that roared in my ears.
I leaned closer, mesmerized by the exchange, and strained to hear what Eamon was saying. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t understand. I just wanted to soak in the feeling. The anticipation. Something amazing was coming, I just didn’t know what.
A hand slipped into mine. I looked up, startled, and found Xander watching me. “Come on,” he said. “We need to get closer.”
Whatever was happening, it was now.
I remembered Nightingale and looked left then right in a wild dash to grab her too. “Don’t forget the…” I trailed off when I realized Xander already had a firm hold on her reins.
Next to him, Peter had stepped forward with Archer’s reins in his good hand. Eamon stood on the other side of him.
Together, we formed a circle in front of Zelkova’s trunk.
Above us, Zelkova’s branches swayed faster and faster as if caught in a tempest.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Just wait,” Xander said, his hand tightening around mine.
The strange storm grew suddenly wilder.
The breeze increased until it became a strong, violent wind that whipped my hair into my face and stung my eyes. I held tighter to Xander, and with my other hand, tried to keep my hair out of my face to see what would happen next.
Anticipation built—heavy in the air around us until it pressed itself right into my bones. My muscles ached under the pressure of it. The horses danced sideways, shaking their heads and snorting loudly. I snuck a glance at Peter and saw him wincing, pulling his injured arm in tighter against his ribs.
I looked over at Eamon who stood calmly even though his fur blew back and forth, like someone was holding an industrial blow dryer over him. He watched Zelkova as he continued to recite the strange words, but the sound was lost to me now over the gale.
The Girl Who Called The Stars Page 8
