Her home was similar to Lead Huntress Mavka’s, though less grand. Her entire house could fit inside Mavka’s hall. Aloisia traipsed through the living space, where a few log benches covered in furs surrounded a small fire pit, towards the ladder at the far end of the house. The ladder led up to the bedroom, if it could be called such. It was nothing more than a ten-foot square, big enough to fit her mattress and a trunk of clothes.
Aloisia settled among the furs atop the bed, and Tristan lay beside her, entwining his fingers with hers. They lay there together for a long while, a comfortable silence enveloping them. Having known each other for most of their lives, they didn’t feel the need to find words to fill the quiet. Aloisia stared out the small window beside her bed, overlooking the twisted branches of the Dead Woods. Morning sunlight filtered between the trees, silhouetting them against the horizon.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, but every time she closed her eyes, the events of the night unfolded upon her lids. She squeezed Tristan’s hand, and he tugged her closer, so her head rested upon his chest. Staring at the ceiling, she listened to the steady beat of his heart, felt his breath deepen as sleep pulled him into its clutches. She lay there in the familiar warmth of his arms until sleep claimed her too.
SIX
ThegnarledbranchesoftheDeadWoodscreakedaboveher,adensefogimpairinghervision.Aloisiaheldherbowsteadyasshecreptacrosstheforestfloor.Aquickglancearoundherconfirmedshewasalone.Shecontinuedthewayshe’dbeenheading,thoughshecouldn’trememberwhereshewasgoingorwhy.
A spark of blue light caught her attention, and she whirled, raising her bow as she did. It vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, darting around her. A shrill laugh sounded this way and that, as she turned, unable to find a clear shot.
The laughter rose, mocking her.
Finally, it stood still. Its flickering human form was barely visible through the mist.
“Stop him,” it said, a cruel grin spreading upon its face.
Aloisia took aim.
“Save her,” another said.
She turned and aimed at the form behind her. But it dissipated, fading into the fog. More of them flitted in and out of sight. She spun back and forth, trying to get a clear aim and failing.
Stop him.
Save her.
Stop him.
Save her.
They sang the words in their crackling voices, tormenting her as they moved in and out of sight, dancing within the mist. Panic rose in her throat, like fingers closing around her neck.
“I couldn’t!” she screamed, falling to her knees.
The blue flames pranced around her, their laughter prickling her skin.
“Lis, Lis, Lis,” they chanted.
Her panic subsided and anger rose in its place. She took up her bow once more, taking aim and letting the beings twirl into range.
Aloisia loosed the arrow.
But now in its place stood Brighde. Blood blossomed around the arrow in her stomach. Her mouth hung agape, her eyes round, their accusation clear.
“Lis?”
“Lis, wake up.” Someone was shaking her.
Aloisia jolted awake, jumping up only to hit her head on something.
“Ow!” She clutched her forehead, sinking back into the furs to see Kaja perched beside her, holding the side of her head.
“What happened?” Tristan rubbed his eyes, stirring from sleep.
“Lis gave me a concussion,” Kaja whined.
“You’re the one who woke me!” Aloisia slowly propped herself up on her elbows, willing the room to stop spinning. “How did you even get in?”
