The Great Pursuit

by Wendy Higgins

  Tiern followed, just as she knew he would. He shrugged the hooded coat over his shoulders, fastening it at his neck with a grumpy expression, then flung the quiver across his back. At the castle’s exit he mumbled, “Just a short ride, Vix. I mean, Princess Vixie.”

  She was about to tell him to call her “Vix,” when the doors opened and they were hit with a blast of cold air. She pulled her hat down tighter and Tiern lifted his hood. Then they set off down the stone steps with two guards following.

  The trees were nearly barren, clinging with lackluster energy to their last yellowed leaves. With a gust of wind, the large oak they were passing seemed to sigh and open its fingers, releasing a handful of leaves at them.

  Vixie quickly tired of the silence between them. When they reached the shelter of the stables, she began readying Aerity’s horse for Tiern. The guards checked all the stalls, then went back to the entrance to stand watch.

  “You’ll ride Doll,” she told him.

  “Are you certain? I don’t mind using one of the guest horses.”

  “It makes no difference.”

  She felt his eyes on her as she worked. He shifted from one foot to the other before asking, “May I help?”

  “I’m almost finished.” She smiled at him and patted Doll’s back. “There.”

  He moved closer, reaching up to mount, and his arm grazed Vixie’s. She reached out and took hold of his forearm, whispering, “Wait.”

  Tiern froze where he was, staring at the horse’s side. Vixie peeked at the guards, who could see only their faces over the tops of the stalls and were too far away to hear a whispered conversation.

  The nearness of Tiern and the semiprivate feel of the stall made Vixie brazen, as if this might be her only opportunity. So many things went through her mind that she could say or ask. But what she finally blurted out made her face go hot.

  “Have you ever been kissed?”

  His head swung back to check for the guards before turning to Vixie. She had to be as red as a beet.

  “Wh— I’m not sure this is a proper discussion. Shouldn’t you be readying your horse?”

  Stubbornness burgeoned, overriding her initial embarrassment. “Yes or no?”

  He lowered his arm from Doll and turned to face her. “Aye. I have. Twice. Now, let’s ride.” He tried to turn back, but she grabbed his arm again. A bout of jealousy burned her stomach, but her curiosity was stronger.

  “Did you . . . enjoy it very much?”

  Tiern let out a huff of low laughter. “Well, when you’re a young lad and a lass is willing to kiss you, what’s not to enjoy? Now, come on. Let’s go, Princess.”

  This time he didn’t let her stop him. He mounted Doll and peered down where she still stood, staring up at him.

  “Aren’t you curious whether or not I’ve been kissed?” she asked.

  “Nay.” He took the reins and would not look at her. “Not one bit.”

  A flare of anger heated her thoroughly, and she had to fight the urge to stamp her foot in a childish manner. Instead she marched out of his stall with her head up and entered the next stall, where Ruspin nudged her with his cool nose. She gave the horse a good scratch before saddling and mounting. She led Ruspin out of the stable, with Tiern just behind her.

  One of the guards held up a hand.

  “You can ride unguarded since the hunter is armed, but your father’s orders are to stay in sight of the castle and guards at all times. No entering the woods.”

  Vixie nodded her understanding, thrilled that they wouldn’t be closely followed.

  “We won’t be long,” Tiern told the guards. Vixie gave him a sideways glare before ushering Ruspin forward with a tap of her heels. She soaked in the clunk of hooves on cobblestones—one of her favorite sounds.

  When they were out of earshot of the guards, she stated, “I haven’t been, you know.”

  “Not my business,” Tiern replied.

  “It could be your business if you wanted. . . .” She bit her bottom lip. Vixie didn’t know what had gotten into her. It was like the more uninterested he was, the greater need she had to push for his notice. It was backward, really, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Tiern’s mouth was set in a hard line. “You’re being terribly forward, Princess. I doubt your parents would approve.”

  Vixie gave a mirthless laugh. “We both know what I am to my parents. A pretty jewel in their treasure chest. And not the biggest or most valuable gem, either. Not worthy of being privy to the important information. Not the future queen.”

  Tiern’s eyes widened as he took her in, and for half a moment she thought she saw sympathy there, or perhaps understanding. Just as quickly he was closed off again, turning his head to the path as they passed the west commons.

  “Are you angry at your brother for leaving?” Vixie blurted.

  Tiern shifted, his face showing a gamut of emotions. “Nay. Though I suppose I’m angry at the circumstances under which he had to leave.”

  “Because Lord Alvi took the beast?”

  Tiern slumped a bit, eyes glazing. “Aye. Along those lines.”

  There. Right there in those words lay the mystery. Vixie stared at him, trying to figure out what piece of the puzzle she was missing. Along those lines.

  “Why else did he go, then?”

  Tiern gave a stiff shrug. “My brother was always a bit of a loner. I don’t pretend to fully understand him.”

  She sensed more partial truths, and frustration bubbled.

  “Why is it that nobody trusts me? You, Aerity, the rest of my family. Nobody thinks I’m capable of bearing the weight of the truth. I’m bloody tired of being given the mushroom treatment—kept in the dark and fed shite! Why is it? It’s because I let the Rocato woman go, isn’t it?” Her chin trembled as shame surged through her. How many days and nights had she spent reimagining that moment on the island when she had the woman at arrow point, when she let someone sneak up behind her? She’d been completely unaware. If only she had sensed the other person. She could have ended it all then and there, and proven herself to her parents and everyone who looked upon her as the silly, frivolous second daughter.

  Tiern’s mouth popped open, and Vixie spurred her horse, moving ahead of him, hoping she wouldn’t cry.

  “Vixie, wait!” Tiern trotted up beside her. “Stop, Princess. Please.”

  She slowed, fidgeting with her gloves.

  “Listen,” he said softly. “Paxton’s secrets are not mine to tell. But if ever I needed counsel, I know you are trustworthy. And brave. And able to help.” He clasped the back of his neck and winced, as if he’d said too much. And in that moment Vixie knew for certain Tiern was still inside that closed-off body, and he still cared for her. So what had changed? She couldn’t help but remember what he’d said . . . about the kisses, and that sour feeling of jealousy returned.

  She peered up at him now, into his honest eyes.

  “Tiern, when you returned home after the hunt, what happened to make your feelings toward me change? Did you . . . that is, was that when you kissed one of the lasses?”

  “What?” He shook his head. “Nay. It has nothing to do with a lass. I’ve just had time to think and to see what’s happening in the lands. I realize now that a Lochlan princess should be with her own kind, even if it’s only for friendship.”

  Vixie stared. “Own kind? We are both Lochlan. I don’t care about the class differences. My mother was a commoner, as I’m certain you know. These things did not seem to hinder you from my company during the hunt. I can’t understand why they should now.”

  He looked to the side, his jaw locked. Vixie wished she could see what burdened him so. His face . . . he seemed almost to have aged, the way his brow was in a constant furrow of worry. She wanted to climb across the expanse between them and sit in his lap, erasing those lines with kisses.

  The thought shook her and she spouted a nervous laugh.

  “What?” Tiern asked, tilting his head in curiosity at her sudd
en outburst.

  “Nothing.” Her heart pounded.

  He stared at her curiously as a strange sound rang out overhead. Vixie and Tiern both turned toward the castle. There it was again—a guttural cawing. Voices yelled from afar.

  “What in the depths?” Tiern whispered. Vixie held her breath, listening. Tiern whipped his bow over his head and had an arrow nocked before she could blink.

  Again came the caw, like a grand bird in peril, closer now. And then above the stone turrets flew the most enormous bird Vixie had ever seen. She’d grown up with all manner of gulls, herons, and hawks, but nothing like this. Its wings spanned at least a dozen feet. When it swooped lower over the west commons, she saw with horror that its body was as large as her own, with talons that could shred a man.

  Its feral eyes were directed at the two of them, its face like a bat’s. Vixie wanted to shriek, but air was stuck in her lungs, frozen in terror.

  “Vixie, go!” Tiern shot an arrow, which narrowly arced just short of the bird as it took a sharp upward swoop. “To the castle, now! Tell your father!”

  Tiern shot again, puncturing a wing. The bird’s pitying howl shot through Vixie, and she charged forward down the cobblestoned path, dodging guards and soldiers who were coming in her direction, swords and bows drawn. When she got to the castle entrance, she leaped from her horse and gave him a hard smack on the rump to send him back to the stables. “Go, Ruspin!”

  A guard stood with the door wide, waving her frantically inside. “Your Highness!”

  She panted for breath and dared to take one last look at the group of men on horseback, Tiern among them, as the great bird swooped down to attack. Men were knocked from their horses by its strong wings. The beast struggled against an onslaught of arrows, but managed to grab one of the men by his arm. Vixie gasped as the soldier was lifted high into the air, flailing. It was then that the princess released the piercing shriek she’d been holding in, and she sprinted up the castle steps.

  Chapter

  15

  Wyneth stood in the king’s office, overtaken by chills from what they’d just learned. A monstrous sand serpent that could slither, run, and leap had been on a killing rampage in Zorfina. It was able to bury itself and move in the sand, and therefore had eluded their forces. Each day it killed more people, because King Addar refused to change the laws, just as King Charles had.

  And in the mountains of Toresta, King Gavriil had opened a refugee camp for Lashed—a haven against the onslaught of persecution, in hopes that this would earn Rozaria’s approval, at least until she could be stopped. They had no reports of beasts yet, but Lashed were killing people each day, just as they were in Lochlanach.

  “There’s a catch,” King Charles said softly as he read the parchment. “Once the Lashed go into the camp, they are not allowed to leave.”

  “They are made prisoners?” Queen Leighlane asked.

  Councilman Duke Gulfton clucked his tongue and chuckled without humor. “I suppose they’re saying it’s for their own good. That they are protecting them.”

  “Smart,” muttered Duke Streamson. “Very smart.”

  The two older dukes had been the only councilmen approved to attend official meetings with the royal family again. One younger councilman, a guard, and an officer were still being held for daily questioning. All others had been let go. Their possible treason was so despicable and saddening that nobody spoke of it.

  “As for Kalor,” King Charles said, “it is no longer safe for Lochlans to travel there. We’ve had reports of people attacked and rumors of Lashed uprisings. Prince Vito has neither confirmed nor denied that his kingdom is in a state of unrest. It seems he does not trust written communication, which I can understand. In a message with his seal received before dawn, he says he has sent ambassadors to speak with us directly. They will arrive before dark.”

  This piqued everyone’s interest.

  “That should be interesting,” Lord Baycreek said sarcastically. Wyneth knew from past stories of interkingdom balls and functions that Kalorians and Lochlans did not always play well together.

  “Aye, lock up the wee ones.” Duke Gulfton’s jowls shook as if he’d shivered in fear.

  “Now, now, gentlemen,” the king admonished. “Remember, Prince Vito allowed many of his kingdom’s best hunters to come here and fight the beast. Every one of them was killed.”

  A respectful silence filled the space until Lord Wavecrest spoke. “Any news from Ascomanni?”

  “No.” King Charles and the entire room all turned to the man at Wyneth’s side. Lord Alvi rocked back on his heels and nodded.

  “My uncle tends to be a private man when it comes to kingdom matters. He’s not likely to send news of trouble, lest it be perceived as a call for help.”

  “Seas forbid,” Queen Leighlane said with a sigh.

  Lord Alvi gave a wry shrug, unoffended, as if that’s simply the way it was.

  A commotion sounded outside in the hallway. Wyneth’s pulse quickened and on reflex she grabbed Lord Alvi’s arm. Without hesitation he brought his hand over hers. Wyneth’s mother, Lady Wavecrest, glanced at Wyneth and did a double take at their joined hands. Wyneth quickly dropped her arm from Lief’s just as the door flew open.

  Vixie, disheveled and panting, burst into the room with a veritable army on her heels. The king rushed from behind the desk and held out his arms, which she ran straight into.

  “What is it, Vix?” he asked.

  “A flying beast, Father!” The entire room gasped and went still, except Lord Alvi, who ran from the room to join the fight.

  Vixie pulled away enough to peer up at the king. His eyes darted around at the faces of his family and advisers, all at a loss. Wyneth pressed a shaking hand over her mouth. Vixie’s eyes were rimmed in red. “It took one of the soldiers.” At the memory of it, Vixie broke into tears. Wyneth stepped up and took her from the king, who rushed away with his men.

  “I must check on the children.” Lady Wavecrest ran from the room with Lady Baycreek.

  Vixie trembled in Wyneth’s arms. “Wyn . . . it was so big. Oh, my seas. Its eyes!”

  “It’s okay, love. You’re safe now.” Wyneth stroked her hair, feeling faint with fear. The queen joined them, taking Vixie’s face in her hands.

  “You’re not injured?” She looked her daughter over as Vixie shook her head.

  “I need to go. I need to make sure Tiern is okay.”

  Both Wyneth and the queen grasped her.

  “You’re not going back out there,” Queen Leighlane said firmly.

  Vixie still had panic in her eyes. “When will this end, Mother? Papa can make it stop. He can change the laws!”

  “It’s not so simple,” the queen whispered. She stroked Vixie’s cheeks, drying her tears.

  “He must never change the laws,” came a grainy voice from behind them. “It is imperative that we not give up control.”

  Wyneth, Vixie, and the queen turned to Duke Streamson. He seemed to be addressing Duke Gulfton, who leaned on his ornate walking stick, eyes glazed.

  “Perhaps it will never end,” Duke Gulfton whispered. He hobbled from the room, green robes dragging across the floor, and Duke Streamson followed, shaking his head.

  Wyneth thought with sadness that they should both retire. She looked to the queen. Her aunt Leighlane gave her a tight smile that was meant to be reassuring, but it wasn’t. It felt as if everyone in the entire kingdom had lost their wits along with their control over the situation. If they’d had any control to begin with.

  Something had to give.

  Vixie walked to the window, looking out at the sky and grounds. “I hope they’ve killed it.”

  Wyneth’s stomach turned at the thought of what her young cousin had seen. She prayed Tiern and the other soldiers were safe against it.

  “Aerity is out there with monsters on the loose,” Vixie whispered. “She needs to be brought home.”

  The queen pursed her lips. “I’ve been thinking the sam
e thing. She could be anywhere by now, the foolish girl. She knows we don’t have enough people to chase her down.” She shook her head and walked to her daughter’s side. Winter light shone against her deep red curls.

  Wyneth moved to her cousin’s side. Vixie looked straight at her, and in that moment the girl’s terror morphed into an intensity Wyneth had never seen from the lass. It was as if a thought had taken root in her cousin’s soul and was growing to massive proportions before she could attempt to stop it.

  Aye, the kingdom lacked soldiers to find Aerity. But Princess Vixie, it seemed, was willing, able, and ready.

  Chapter

  16

  Vixie waited impatiently at the entrance of the castle for Tiern to return. When the doors finally opened, she rose up on her toes, eager to see if he was all right. But it wasn’t Tiern at all. It was a mass of guards surrounding a group in bright clothing: trousers and tunics of reds and greens with buttons up the sides. Vixie recognized the garb of high-class Kalorians. She stepped aside into an alcove to watch as they passed. They were a dour bunch of serious faces.

  She gave a slight shiver at how the colorful dresses and long black hair of the women reminded her of Rozaria. She noted the difference in hairstyles between upper-class Kalorian men and tribesmen. Men of the tribes shaved their heads on the side while the lords did not. They wore it down and straight. But all Kalorian men wore the center strip of their hair pulled tight and knotted at the back of their heads.

  Vixie stepped out to see what was going on when someone gripped her arm. She looked into Tiern’s worn face.

  “Tiern!”

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Aye.” She wanted to circle her arms around him in a hug, but guards were watching. Always watching.

  Lord Alvi swept into the castle with a cold breeze and followed where the Kalorians had gone in the direction of the king’s office. Vixie wrapped her arms around herself.

  “What happened after I left? Was it killed?”