“I want my bedroll back,” I state. “Agree to return it, and I will handle the beasts.”
“You can keep your bedroll, keepmybedroll, keep it all. I don’t care. Just kill the things.Please.”
That’s as good of an apology as I will ever receive from her. “Stay low and quiet.”
Harper swallows, then nods.
The larger creature faces me head-on. Its smaller companion paces to its left, more shadow than tangible shape.Heavenly Father, give me strength.I bolt for Harper’s bag.
The larger creature lunges, those tearing fangs passing near my arm as I duck beneath its stomach and weave through its legs, putting my training with Mother Mabel into practice. It pivots, snaps at my chest. I stab my dagger toward its neck. The creature recoils with a snarl. I spring, closing the distance, and catch the bag with my fingertips as the second beast barrels toward me.
I fling myself out of range, dropping the bag in the process. Its contents scatter, including Harper’s dagger. The larger beast bashes the smaller in the ribs, and it careens into a nearby tree with a thunderous crack, the force tearing its roots from the soil.
I dive into the trees, drawing the monstrosities away from Harper. One beast flanks my left, the other my right. Ahead, a gnarled old tree drips shadow. As I reach the trunk, I kick off and land facing the opposite direction, sprinting back toward Harper as the creatures overshoot my location. My chest sears with each heaving gasp. Nearly there. The second dagger lies a few paces away.
“Behind!” Harper cries.
An ear-shattering shriek erupts at my back, and I dive for the weapon. As soon as the dagger hits my palm, I whirl, a blade in each hand, one arm lashing out in a wild arc. The iron sizzles as it melts the flesh of the creature’s shoulder. The beast rears back, howling, allowing me access to its hind legs. Two cuts sever the tendons there.
The creature drops. Its end is my blade, and that blade thrusts downward, plunging into the base of its skull. Black fluid oozes onto filth-caked fur. The first howling creature dies with its last exhalation incomplete. The second crashes through the brush, barreling toward me in feral-eyed rage. I twist as its jaws snap toward me, my dagger punching out to meet it.
Skin, cartilage, bone—the iron blade parts flesh, sinking through the top of the ridged snout with a hiss of smoke. The beast screams and recoils, but my hand clamps the hilt, keeping it steady despite the sting across my chest where the creature’s teeth have sliced me. I shove the blade upward, into the front of its skull, between the eyes. Their polished blackness dulls, and I leap backward as the beast crumples into a motionless heap.
Nothing stirs in the close-knit air. Carterhaugh, at last, is still.
My heartbeat cannot catch its rhythm. It skips every few breaths until I begin to feel lightheaded. I brace my hands on my knees, puffing hard, curls hanging loose around my face. The beasts’ carcasses bleed out, two piles of steaming, rancid meat.
I feel moments from collapse, but I fear what other creatures the disturbance might attract. We’ll need to move, and quickly.
After collecting and cleaning my blades, I return to Harper. She cowers in a ball where I left her, arms clamped over her head, face tucked into her chest.
“Harper.” The moment I grip her shoulder she jerks away with a scream, scratching at me with her eyes closed.
“It’s me!” A hard shake clears her addled mind. “They’re dead.”
Her skin is pallid, sickly white. Her eyes have momentarily lost focus, bright blue rings constricting narrow black pupils. “How?”
Adrenaline has likely muddled my good sense, but I remove my cloak from my rucksack and lay it across her back and shoulders. She huddles beneath its warmth without complaint. “Dumb luck,” I say. Anything could have altered the outcome.
Harper is too quiet. Shock has begun to set in.
Crouching down, I wrap the cloak tighter around her small frame. “Look at me.” I cup her face in my hands. “You’re alive. You’re safe. We both are.”
“I don’t want to do this,” she whispers. “I want to go home.”
We can’t go home. We’ve already lost precious time. But as we move forward, what will the cost be?
“Why would Mother Mabel send us on this mission? It’s a fool’s errand.” The hard click of her chattering teeth sets me on edge. “Have you thought of how easy the other women’s tasks were compared to ours?”
I have. I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Previous tasks included working the local soup kitchen, overhauling the abbey library’s organizational system, or apprenticing with the physician to extend our healing services. None of the other novitiates were required to brave Under.
“We’ve come this far,” I say. “Do you really want to give up so soon?”
Clarity enters her narrowed eyes. “I’m not giving up. I’m being realistic. Is an appointment worth the risk of our lives?” Another shudder grips Harper’s body. “I don’t think it is.”
She has a point. We could have been killed. And yet—
“I will make sure you return to Thornbrook safely,” I say. “We can leave at first light.”
