A Ride of Peril

by Bella Forrest

  “Hansa,” I said. “If you want, I can syphon some of the pain off.”

  She gave me a warm smile and shook her head.

  “Thank you, Serena, but I need this pain. It fuels me,” she replied.

  A moment passed before she spoke again.

  “How many, in total?” she asked.

  “Ninety-three,” I answered, my voice barely a whisper.

  “That leaves us with twelve unaccounted for. Twelve of my sisters who might still be alive somewhere.”

  She looked over her shoulder, frowning at the sight of the bright orange blaze that consumed the flesh of her dead sisters. There hadn’t been enough time for us to wrap them all in burial cloaks. There weren’t enough of those anyway. The Red Tribe had never anticipated its own sudden extinction.

  “My sisters were brave and strong,” Hansa said, her voice trembling. “Some were older than me and carried with them millennia of traditions and tales of succubi virtue. Most, however, I nursed myself from the day they were born. Sweet little bundles of joy and curiosity, with bright eyes and millions of questions about the world, about our nature, and about our freedom. I raised them all with the elders, trained them, fed them, and prepared them for everything that awaited them outside the boundaries of our camp. Eritopia is beautiful and wild, intense and unforgiving, cruel and fascinating. I remember each and every one of these girls, from their first steps to their first kills.”

  Bijarki took a few steps forward, holding a large bunch of wild pink and yellow flowers. He walked along the length of the pyre and threw the blossoms into the fire, one for each succubus lost. Sadness darkened his face, and I could see tears glazing his eyes. These were creatures of his own kind, after all. Despite their separate lifestyles and the frequent animosity, the succubi and incubi only had each other in this world. Loss was painful in any universe.

  “In many ways, I grew up with them, over and over again, rediscovering the wonders and terrors of Eritopia,” Hansa continued hoarsely. “I laughed with them, and I lost sleep whenever one of them didn’t come home. Seven of them were my own daughters…” She choked up.

  My heart twisted in my chest. I could only imagine what it must feel like for a mother to lose her children like that.

  “Six are here now, burning. One is missing. I am hopeful she is still alive, somewhere,” Hansa continued, swallowing back more tears. “We are all mothers at some point in our lives. We all carry life in our wombs. We all feel the unbreakable bond that comes with giving birth. But the Red Tribe was even stronger. The bond was greater, stronger than the blood ties. Today, I am parting not just with my blood daughters, but with all my daughters, all my sisters…my friends…my mothers.”

  Hansa stepped back, wiping the tears from her face with the backs of her hands.

  “Nevertheless, Druid, rest assured, for as long as I’m still standing, there is a Red Tribe. Anjani is still standing. Twelve more succubi might still be alive. Azazel may have killed most of us, but he hasn’t defeated us.”

  Her resolve was truly phenomenal. The emotional rollercoaster of the entire day had ended on a note of determination. Hansa was an exceptional creature. As she watched her entire family turn to ashes, she still had enough strength to stand tall and tell us that there was still hope—that this was not defeat.

  Hansa walked over to a large black stone several feet away from the pyre. She took out a knife and carved a few words into its smooth surface, words I did not understand. She noticed my confusion and smirked as she etched her message.

  “We invented a code language a long time ago. Only the Red Tribe knows it. We use it for safety and to communicate when no one else can be trusted. If there are any of my sisters out there, they will come back here to see if there are any survivors. They will find nothing but ashes and this message. It will guide them back to the mansion, back to safety.”

  “The Red Tribe is welcome in my home anytime,” Draven replied.

  “You’re more like your father than you think, Druid.” Hansa smiled at him, a familiar warmth glimmering in her eyes. “Ever the gentleman, even when he had to deal with wildlings such as myself. It’s what drew me to him in the first place. Unlike the rest of his elitist kind, Almus saw past the leathers and sharp blades and sought to communicate, to get to know us better. I cared for him deeply, more than you might think, in fact.”

  “You were close to my father, then?”

  She nodded. “I have met all kinds of creatures in Eritopia. Some I liked. Others I loathed. A few I simply tolerated. But your father was something else entirely. I must be honest, Druid, I loved your father…deeply.”

  Her candor surprised me, and judging by how Draven’s eyebrows arched up, it surprised him as well. We knew there had been something between Hansa and Almus, but she hadn’t told us anything about it. We’d only had Phoenix’s vision.

  “I didn’t know,” Draven replied.

  “You couldn’t have known. I asked him to keep it a secret, especially after the swamp witches gave us the books. We couldn’t risk people outside the Red Tribe knowing we’d ever met. Ultimately, things changed between us when he rescued Elissa.” Hansa’s voice dropped, enough for me to understand that her separation from Almus had not been her idea. “I don’t think your father ever truly reciprocated my feelings. Sure, there was affection…attraction…but the moment he met Elissa everything between me and him faded, except for our friendship and loyalty. Both we take to our graves.”

  The dynamic between Almus and Hansa became much clearer, as I understood what they had meant to each other beyond what Phoenix’s vision had shown us. Draven’s past ran deep into Eritopia, rooted in his father’s relationships with creatures who were now key players in his present and in our entire strategy against Azazel. Hansa’s loyalty was just one of the many treasures that Almus had left his son with, even if Draven hadn’t known anything about her up until a few nights ago.

  I maintained hope that we might stumble upon more of these lost friends of his father’s along the way. We needed all the help we could get, now more than ever.

  As night gathered above us in shades of ultramarine and dark purple, we collected as many weapons and other unburned items as our horses could carry and galloped back to the mansion.

  The woods hissed with discontent. A myriad of stars and a fat, pearly moon guided us down the beaten path of the jungle on our way home. The rumble of hooves was the only sound to come out of us until we reached the safety of the mansion’s protective shield.

  Aida

  A few days had passed since Serena, Draven, Hansa, and Bijarki had left for Mount Inon. Despite the passage of time, I was stuck in a most delicious loop, constantly replaying Field’s kiss in my mind. Whenever I wasn’t giddy and whistling happy tunes around the mansion and remembering every detail of our moment together, I was shut in the attic, honing my Oracle skills.

  Despite the dangers that awaited outside the mansion’s protective shield, and despite the predicament I’d found myself in as an Oracle, Field was my beacon of hope, the root of everything that was still good and sweet in my life. His promise to be with me even if I went blind and barren didn’t make the potential outcome any better, but it gave me enough strength to face the possibility with my chin up.

  Shortly after we’d kissed that day, Field had taken me inside for a cup of coffee in the banquet hall. We’d laughed and talked for a while.

  Then he’d excused himself and gone out for a bit. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to be outside. Hawks weren’t made for life indoors. They needed freedom, the air brushing against their wings, the sky open and all theirs.

  This morning had started out nicely, with colorful droplets of glee in my soul. The sun shone brightly outside. I could see it smiling down at me in warm rays peeking through the rich pink magnolia trees by the windows.

  Soon enough, however, that old part of myself that I disliked started rearing its ugly head, spoiling the memory of Field’s lips on mine and our bodie
s melting against each other. I’d hoped it wasn’t our last kiss. Doubt started seeping through the cracks of my happy bubble like dirty water, determined to soil the pristine image of Field’s soft gaze warming my face before his mouth captured mine.

  The little voice in my head, the one that had once judged my wolf hair and my curves, was back. In need of the attic’s silence I went upstairs. Maybe I could lose myself in a vision instead of paying attention to the doubtful part of me that, until that moment, had been relatively quiet since our arrival in Eritopia.

  I sat down beneath one of the large windows, letting the sunlight wash over my face in shades of white and gold. I closed my eyes and tried to channel the present. But I had trouble focusing. That little voice kept yammering about Field.

  Was he really into me? Were his feelings genuine? Or was I the rebound girl he needed to get over Maura? Maybe she’d been the real love of his life, but, due to lifestyle incompatibilities, they’d lost each other, and here I was, the fool ready to give him enough affection to help him deal with the loss.

  I shook the thought away and took a few deep breaths, once again focused on tapping into a vision.

  But the thought came back, pounding in my temples like a migraine, eager to ruin everything.

  What if he didn’t feel anything? What if I was just handy? Would he really be that selfish? Or did he not even realize he was doing it? Maybe he was fooling himself into thinking he liked me—some sort of subconscious defense mechanism to help him bounce back from his life with Maura.

  I mean, she was pretty and smart and a woman with years of wisdom and experience. I was still in my teenage years, still grateful for the spell that had helped me shed all that extra body hair. I’d been stuck between human and wolf for most of my life, and that was how Field had known me. How could he see past it, even with it gone now?

  I kept spiraling down that dark hole, deeper and deeper into my insecurities, while Field’s kiss stayed at the top of the hole, shrinking in the distance.

  “Are you okay?” Field’s voice startled me out my thoughts.

  I looked over to my right and found him at the far end of the attic, standing and watching me with concern etched on his face. His turquoise eyes found mine, and my heart tumbled and fluttered at the same time, torn between the memory of our kiss and the subsequent doubts of his intentions toward me. After all, he hadn’t been specific in how he felt about me. He’d just kissed me.

  The floor seemed to vanish from underneath me as he took a few steps forward.

  “Yeah. All is good,” I said, barely hearing myself.

  I decided to raise that barrier between us again, just until I could understand how he really felt about me. I straightened my back and gave him a polite smile. How could I get him to tell me what I needed to know? Asking was the only straightforward solution, but the closer he got to me, the faster I felt my courage slip away.

  “Why am I having a hard time believing that?” he asked, his head cocked.

  “I don’t know. I told you, I’m fine. Just working on my visions. Nothing to see here,” I mumbled and looked away, bringing my knees to my chest defensively.

  Field wasn’t one to quit so easily. He sat in front of me, crossing his legs while his gaze searched mine. There was a playful flicker in the tropical blue-green of his eyes. Clearly, he didn’t understand my struggle.

  Why should he, anyway? These are my demons, not his.

  “Seriously, Aida, what’s going on?”

  I tried to be brave, but doubt had chipped away at my self-confidence, leaving me naked and vulnerable and fearful in front of a man who had the power to crush my heart with a handful of words. The swing in my mood from one hour to the next had taken its toll on my resolve.

  “I’m fine, Field.”

  “I haven’t seen you at all today.”

  His voice was low and smooth, making nerve endings in my entire body tingle.

  “Well, you’ve been out a lot,” I replied, unyielding.

  “And you’ve closed yourself off in the attic. Have I done something wrong?”

  I sighed and shook my head. Why punish him for my insecurities? It wasn’t fair.

  “I’ve just… It’s hard to explain,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  He bent forward, leaving just a couple of inches between our faces. He kept watching me, his eyes looking for something in mine. His gaze shifted to my lips.

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “Try me.” He smiled gently.

  I stilled as he drew his face even closer, our lips nearly touching. I wanted to feel him again. I needed the courage he unknowingly gave me. I needed the hope he instilled in me. I needed him to kiss me and hold me again, enough to smother that stupid doubtful voice in my head that had ruined my morning.

  “They’re back!” Vita’s voice made both of us jump. She popped her head into the attic, enough to notice how close Field and I were to each other and to realize that she’d interrupted an intimate moment. “Sorry, just wanted to tell you that Serena and Draven are back.”

  “It’s okay,” I mumbled and stood up.

  It clearly wasn’t the right time for me and Field. It would have to wait until later, until I’d gathered the courage to ask him how he really felt about me. As I walked over to Vita, I heard Field’s footsteps behind me. I wasn’t even brave enough to face him.

  Damn my insecurities.

  Jovi

  We all gathered downstairs as the sun moved closer to noon above us. Field, Aida, and Vita descended from the attic, while Phoenix and the Daughter came from the banquet hall. Anjani was already standing outside by the porch steps. I joined her quietly as we watched Serena, Draven, Bijarki, and Hansa come in through the protective shield from the northern jungle path.

  Their expressions were dark and solemn, and a bunch of swords, shields, crossbows, and various other weapons clanged from the horses’ saddles—far too many items for a group of four people. Something was wrong.

  Draven was the first to get off his horse.

  “What happened?” I asked, not just for myself but for Anjani as well.

  Her frown said more than she ever would in words and, judging by the way she looked at her sister, she seemed to understand more than I did.

  “They’re dead,” Hansa replied in a low, husky voice.

  “What…what do you mean?” Anjani took a step forward.

  “The Sluaghs betrayed us,” Draven answered when Hansa wavered. “They brought Destroyers with them and raided the Red Tribe. None of the succubi there survived. They didn’t stand a chance.”

  “I am so sorry, Anjani,” Serena added as she got off her horse.

  It took a few moments for the information to sink in. I heard Vita and Aida gasp somewhere behind me, but my attention was focused on Anjani. I couldn’t see her face from that angle, but I could tell from the way her shoulders dropped that she was about to react to the news of her sisters’ deaths.

  “Twelve of our sisters might still be out there,” Hansa said, avoiding Anjani’s gaze. “The rest are dead.”

  A long moment passed before Anjani collapsed. She fell to her knees, bending forward in a heart-wrenching wail that pierced through the silence and echoed all around us. My stomach burned at the sight of her crying. I couldn’t stand it.

  I dropped next to her and pulled her into my arms. To my relief, she didn’t object. She just cried as I held her tight, her face nestled in my chest. Her sobs were a muffled wave of hot tears. I brushed my fingers through her rich black hair, and looked up at Hansa.

  She wore a look of silent approval. She seemed thankful to see me there comforting her sister. Hansa was a fierce warrior. I figured that their customs didn’t leave room for much compassion and grieving—at least not where she was concerned, as the tribe chief. Someone had to hold onto the reigns, despite the grief and devastation, and Anjani was too young and probably not seasoned enough to process everything the way Hansa did.

  Neverthel
ess, I saw tears welling up in Hansa’s eyes, and I knew it was harder for her than she’d ever let on. I could only imagine what losing dozens of sisters felt like. My heart broke for Anjani. I did my best to keep her close to me while she cried uncontrollably in my arms.

  “What do we do now?” Field asked.

  Draven took a deep breath and looked at the mansion. Behind him, Serena and Bijarki started unloading the saddles. Aida and Vita joined them, taking some of the weapons and placing them on the front porch. I could see the blades smeared with silver blood. The sight of it made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  “Hansa left a cryptic message for any survivors. They’ll know where to find us,” he said. “We burned the bodies, as we didn’t want any rogue Sluaghs taking over a Red Tribe body.”

  “The time will come when I will avenge our sisters’ deaths, Anjani.” Hansa took off her red cape and tossed it on the grass. “I will personally drive my sword through Krol’s shriveled little head, I promise you.”

  Anjani looked up between sobs and nodded. She hid her face in my chest and cried some more. I figured it was as close as she would get to being consoled by her big sister and, somehow, it made sense.

  “For now, however, we need to find the third book of the swamp witches,” Draven added. “Serena went through quite the trial at Mount Inon to retrieve the first book, and Hansa was kind enough to give us the second one. The third is hidden somewhere on this property.”

  Serena and Draven exchanged looks, and I could see something that wasn’t there before. They’d been through horrible things over the past few days. I could tell from the dark shadows under their eyes. But there wasn’t just understanding flowing between the two; there was also affection—the kind derived from deeper feelings, much like the ones that compelled me to hold Anjani so close to me in that moment.

  “Where do we look?” Aida asked, one foot resting on the porch step.