The bow in her hand all but came to a stop as her eyes narrowed on a red ribbon tied around the chicken’s leg. And it was running for the trees.
‘Oh, for the love of…’
Straightening her bow, Eda loaded it and shot the chicken just before it disappeared from sight. She was in no position to be chasing that thing through the forest.
The moment she moved the bow, the dog lunged at her, mouth open and lips curled up. Expecting it, Eda leapt sideways as she took the shot. The dog flew past her, pivoting as it landed, and came for her again. She swung the bow, this time knocking the animal sideways. It landed with a yelp and rose with a snarl. Reaching for another arrow, she loaded her weapon and pointed it at the dog. If she shot it, this would all be over. If she surrendered, this would all be over.
But she did neither of those things.
She dropped her aim and shot at the ground between the dog’s front paws. A warning.
‘If I find out your ribbon fell off, I’m going to beveryangry.’ Her voice shook.
The snarling stopped, but the dog continued to watch her.
Just when Eda thought she had taken control of the situation, she heard another growl—and it did not come from the dog standing before her. Slowly, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder as a second dog emerged from between two trees. It approached at an angle, eyes locked on hers. Eda’s mouth was so dry she could barely swallow. She kept the bow between herself and the first dog as she slowly reached for a dagger. Not a red ribbon to be found anywhere.
It’s a test, she reminded herself. Queen Fayre was expecting her to kill them.Just breathe.
If she planned to surrender, now was the time. The dogs would be recalled, and she would go home with everything except her ego intact.
The dogs edged closer. The second crouched, preparing to launch itself at her. Eda’s breath sped up, and her mind raced. She lifted the knife, ready to throw it, still undecided how far she would let this situation play out.
As she was preparing herself to be mauled, a whistle reached them. The dogs stopped, ears pricked in the direction of the noise. A second whistle had them running off in search of their handler.
Eda half laughed and half cried as she sheathed her dagger. She turned in a circle, eyes on the surrounding trees as she drew greedy breaths. The dogs did not return. Leaning on her knees, she took a moment to collect herself.
She had to keep moving.
The village was so close. All she had to do was follow the trail still before her.
Loading her bow again, she took off at a jog. No planks fell from the sky. No birds took flight. Nothing chased her.
The village was right in front of her.
As she emerged from the forest onto the water-logged grass, she stopped. On the other side of the pasture stood Queen Fayre and Harlan. One look at their expressions confirmed her suspicion.
She was not done yet.
Eda looked around, bracing for a boar to charge at her or a vulture to swoop down. But nothing charged, and nothing swooped.
Her eyes returned to Queen Fayre when she waved a hand, not in greeting but a signal. Eda edged forwards, then stopped when two men emerged from between the shops behind the queen. One of the men was a defender, the other shackled. Blood roared in her ears as the defender pulled the prisoner to a stop and turned to unlock the cuffs. He shoved the man forwards, and he stepped out onto the same soggy grass Eda stood on.
That was when she noticed the red ribbon tied around the man’s upper arm.
Her lungs stopped.
She looked to Harlan and discovered the same expression Roul had been wearing when she left him standing in the forest—sombre resignation.
The now free prisoner looked from Queen Fayre to Eda, eyes wide, then ran. He moved east, away from the defenders and the queen. Away from Eda. For a moment, she simply watched him. Watched him stumble, then recover. Watched his fear. And she was supposed to chase him. Hewasa target. She was supposed to shoot, stab, kill.
Move, she told herself.
She took a step in his direction, then another, then another, her hands finally thawing at her sides. She lifted her bow, took aim, knowing she would not miss at that distance. Blood roared in her ears as she watched him down her arrow. Instead of shooting him in the back, she dropped her aim and shot him in the foot. He tripped, roared, rolled. Then he got up and hopped away, dragging his foot behind him.
‘Stop!’ she shouted, running now. ‘Just stop!’
But he had no reason to stop and every reason to continue.
