“Stop stalling.” The hunter thrusts forward his sickle. That silver is real. And if it nicks Ventos’s chin, the ruse is up.
Ventos slices the side of his wrist against the sickle still on his hip, immediately smearing the blood away. “There. Proof enough?”
To my relief, the other hunter lowers his sickle. Luckily, the hunters don’t pay attention to the shade of Ventos’s blood, or notice that his wounds have already closed underneath the smear of blood. All they looked for was the initial cut. “We can never be too careful and you didn’t quite sound like yourself.”
“It’s been a long month wandering the marshes.” Ventos remembers the stories I told him earlier today, just before we left.
“How did you survive?” another hunter asks.
Ventos spins a tale of head trauma combined with a memory thicker than the fogs. He’s far more clever and eloquent than I would’ve given him credit for. It’s a huge relief. I keep half an eye on him as I slowly edge around the perimeter of the room, trying not to look too suspicious.
If he can keep the attention on himself for long enough then maybe I can get the elixir. The cage certainly isn’tthatstrong, and it looks old. There must be a weak point in the forging that I can exploit. Then I’ll—
“What is this commotion?”
I freeze in place. My heart is in my throat. For the second time tonight, I’m strangling a noise of raw emotion. Of pain and relief.
“Mardios made it back,” the first hunter reports.
“Did he?”
I slowly turn to face the speaker. The voice is different. Deeper. Rougher. And yet I’d know it anywhere.
Standing at the base of the stairway that feeds into the hall from the upper levels is a man in full hunter’s attire. He has no sickles, but walks with a cane I’ve only ever seen Davos hold. His eyes are sunken and ringed with shadow. But his gaze is as sharp as that of the raven perched on his shoulder.
Drew. My brother.
He has been chosen as the master hunter.
I fight sickness. Something about seeing that infernal, unnatural bird perched on his shoulder makes me want to scream at it to get away from my brother.He is not for you, I wish I could say,you can’t have him.
The vampir have changed me more than I realized. Because I look at my brother being bestowed one of the highest honors of Hunter’s Hamlet with resentment and horror. The vestments he wears with pride are what will make him see me as his enemy now.
Will he be obliged to hunt me for what I’ve done? I rub the hollow at the base of my neck where Ruvan’s mark is hidden. Even if Ruvan undid the bloodsworn, do I have a place to return to?
“No one survives the Blood Moon.”
“I did,” Ventos insists.
“So I see. And now you must tell me how.” Drew continues to speak with that unnatural lilt to his voice, one I’ve never heard from him before, not even in jest. It’s eerily similar to how Davos always sounded. He smiles Davos’s same, haunted smile. “Come, we will discuss privately.”
I sink farther back behind the crowd, hoping Drew doesn’t look my way. I know if I focus on him too much I risk drawing his attention. We always knew when the other was seeking us out. But I can’tnotstare.
My brother is alive.He might be the master hunter. He might resent me for all I’ve done and what I’m trying to do. But the feeling of him still existing on the other side of the tether that unites us wasn’t a lie.
Just like I hope the similar feeling of Ruvan still drawing breath is equally true.
Drew leads Ventos to the back of the room, to a pointed doorway at the left of the altar, almost completely hidden. They disappear and the rest of the hunters go about their business. As the gathered, chattering masses begin to retreat, I make my way to one of the benches lined before the altar with the cask of elixir. I sit with my sickle on my lap, pretending to polish it.
Do I get the elixir now?I glance over my shoulder.No, still too many.
Time becomes hard to follow. Minutes are slipping away, falling into hours. I can feel the night thinning like a man’s hairline.
Ventos still isn’t back.
I look over my shoulder again. There are only three left, all in the back of the hall. Their heads are bowed in some kind of prayer. Perhaps for the hunters still out tonight. This will be the best chance I have. I should go for the elixir.
But instead, I slip through the door on the other side of the altar, readying some kind of excuse or explanation for when my brother undoubtedly recognizes me, and an excuse for why I’ll need him to get me elixir. I need neither. The room is empty.
