“Okay wylds,” she murmured, setting off. “Let’s see if you can sneak a rock in my way.”
It felt like his memories were stamped into hers, which made traveling the path feel like she’d done it before. Done it often, actually, although…looking around, noticing the tree with the hollow at the bottom, or the strange knot in that trunk, or the small outcropping of rocks that had no hope of catching her foot, she had to own that he saw things a lot differently than she did. His imagery was so colorful and pretty, with dancing filaments of plants and the silvery sparkle of moonlight or random glowing orbs. In reality—her reality—the same objects were dark and gloomy, with murky shadows pooling at the bases and the press of eyes from unseen places. She felt like the storm cloud to his blissful, sunny day.
She heard the brook before she saw it, and once she neared, she desperately tried to notice the shimmering light dancing on the slowly flowing water, or the gurgle of rapids across the smooth stones down the way. She wanted to match his poetic observations, if only to prove she wasn’t so horribly dour. Instead, she heard a twig snap away right. Something rustled to the left. Ripples of ill intent washed over her, and that was about as poetic as she could get with the whole thing.
They drifted out of the dark grasses, five creatures that looked like a misguided scientist had tried to clone a wolf and ended up with a wolf/jackal hybrid. They snarled, showing too many canines too large for their mouths. Their front legs were longer than their back, with a robust chest leading back into scrawny withers. She took out her knives, one weapon in each hand, and waited for them to elongate into swords. They did so at exactly the same time and pace.
Her legs hurt like hell, her middle throbbed, her vision wobbled, but she had zero fear as she walked into the center of them and let them surround her. She didn’t move her swords or choose a stance just yet, watching their movements and the transfer of their weight. Watching how they worked together and which one called the shots. She’d learned to interpret the pack mentality from training with various shifters. That would help her here.
The ground pulsed subsonically. The effect rattled her heart. Magic?
The creatures around her hunched. Their lips lowered, their snarls losing their viciousness. That feeling hadn’t come from them. They weren’t looking around, though. If it had come from some other creature, they weren’t looking for it.
She walked in a small circle, swords lowering, points level with their faces. Three of them snarled. The other two lowered their heads a fraction as another pulse hit, this one crawling up her spineuncomfortably. Fear wavered her resolve. She didn’t like that pulse. It felt like a bad omen, like something big and bad was wandering this way.
One of the creatures took a step back, its tail curling between its legs. The others noticed, their ears pricking up. They all suddenly lifted their heads, gazes directed across the brook, as though startled. In a moment, they scattered, having come from positions surrounding her and now all fleeing in a singular direction.
Another pulse. Treetops in the distance moved within the moon’s glow. A branch broke, torn from on high and echoing as it plummeted to the ground. Whatever was coming was fucking enormous.
“Fuck that,” she said as her heart picked up pace. She didn’t care if this clawing fear was magically induced. She didn’t want any part of it.
She stowed her weapons away as she ran to the brook. She unslung the water skin, twisted off the cap, and submerged it in the water. Another pulse and her breath came quickly.
“Come on, come on…” Trees groaned, and another branch went down. Something large was definitely moving through the landscape. “Be a brontosaurus. Be a gentle giant that only eats plants.”
That pulse worked at her nervous system. Adrenaline dumped into her body, her flight response active. It had to be magic. She wasn’t generally afraid in these kinds of situations. Or many situations, really. Traininghad mostly chased the fear out of her. But fuck if she wasn’t shitting herself right now.
A rock wiggled across the brook. As she filled the water skin with a shaking hand, it grew before her eyes. Could the wylds make them fly? Like, throw it at her somehow?
It rolled. All by itself, the rock rolled to the right. Another, first enlarging, did the same, but this one went left. A couple more. They met on the other side of the bank, forming a tiny wall between her and the creature. A message. The feeling in the area changed.
Run.
It was almost like someone whispering it in her ear. Or Tarian in her head. But this wasn’t a voice, and it wasn’t him, and it wasn’t human. It was sentient, though.
The pulse was getting closer. That thing didn’t move quickly, but it traveled fast. It definitely had to be enormous.
Run.
She yanked the skin out of the water. Three-quarters would have to be good enough.
She ran away from the massive thing cutting a path through the trees. Memories crowded her, vibrant and bright and pretty, and she’d just missed the turn for the plant.
“Fuh-ck,” she drew out, stopping. She turned back. She needed that plant.Heneeded that plant. He’d endured immense pain to save her, and now she wouldsave him. And while that didn’t make all the sense in the world, given he’d gotten her into this mess in the first place, her survival also depended on him. She didn’t have any food or fire. She didn’t have any way of getting out of here. Also…there was a small niggle in the back of her mind that worried if he died, a part of her would miss him. Miss the feelings she had when she was around him.
Regardless, he needed to live.
She raced down the little path, and all the rocks rolled out of her way. What did it say about her that the most deranged of the wylds were working with her like some sort of teammate or friend? Probably not great things. She needed to look into her mental health when she eventually got back to the human lands.
The field of those faerie plants was like a cactus farm in New Mexico compared to what Tarian had mentally shown her. The shape was the same, though, so she stilled herself for the moment and carefully harvested three, like he’d shown her.
The pulse felt like a hand had physically grabbed hold of her legs and shaken them, trying to knock her to the ground. The subsonic sound materialized into the air, a push of pressure that had her looking over her shoulder, expecting something twice the size of an elephant to be bearing down on her. Nothing was there.
Run!
“Okay,” she whispered, her hands shaking so badlyshe could hardly stow away the plants. It was important to keep the petals attached.
Never hurry,Zorn always said.Never rush. That’s when you make mistakes. Keep control, and just move faster.
