“Seven gods,” came Lex’s panicked voice.
Helios shot him a glare. “Act natural.”
“This is me being natural,” Lex whispered back, but he said not a word more as they continued forth.
Teryn’s pulse raced as they approached the clearing. Helios halted just outside the perimeter, hands raised. Teryn and Lex pulled up short in turn. Four of the eight men inside the camp already had weapons drawn. Even the unarmed hunters demonstrated threat in their stiff postures, their hands fisted at their sides. Hostile didn’t even begin to describe their expressions. It was enough to distract Teryn from the row of cages at the far end—and the gray unicorn inside one of them.
Helios flicked his wrist, a motion that was followed by every set of eyes, but all he held was the piece of parchment he’d taken from his saddlebag. “Easy,” Helios said. “We’re brothers.”
The man at the center of camp, one holding a crossbow, nodded at the figure next to him. The second man approached Helios, sword in one hand, and took the paper with the other. He scanned it before returning it to Helios. Teryn caught sight of a brief letter bearing a seal etched with a crescent moon—an unfamiliar sigil. The hunter stepped back but his posture remained stiff. “Whose company?”
“Drass,” Helios said with ease.
“Drass,” the man echoed. “He still out in the Dorvish Pass?”
“The Cambron Pass.”
The man eyed Helios through slitted lids. “What are you doing out here, then?”
Helios nodded his head back toward Teryn and Lex. “Our contract is up. We were heading to Brocken Village to refill supplies for our trip home when we were waylaid by bandits.” Teryn was surprised not only by how well Helios could lie, but by the subtle shift in his tone. It was brimming with camaraderie, devoid of his usual smug brusqueness. Instead, it held a rough edge that masked any hint of royal flair.
The hunter’s eyes roved from Helios to Lex, then landed on Teryn, gaze falling on his bruised nose. “Bandits, eh?” He then dragged his eyes over their horses, pausing when he caught sight of Berol, still perched on Teryn’s saddle. The falcon stared back at the man just as intently, shifting her stance as if to draw attention to her sharp talons. The man’s knuckles went white on the hilt of his sword, and he returned his attention to Helios.
“Aye,” Helios said. “They provided us a good chase before we buried their sorry bones. Still, it took us far off course. We saw your fire and hoped for company and a meal to share.”
“I’m surprised you deigned to dine with us at all. Drass and his merry band of mercenaries tend to think themselves above our ilk.”
“I don’t see why. We all work for the same man, don’t we?”
The hunter assessed Helios one more time, then looked over his shoulder to exchange a glance with the man holding the crossbow. Teryn held his breath as the camp fell under a tense silence. He sure as hell hoped Helios knew what he was doing. His lies sounded believable to Teryn’s ears, but still…
Finally, the hunter lowered his crossbow with a nod. “We’ll share a meal.”
The other man sheathed his sword and stepped to the side. “Brothers,” he said with a nod. Teryn didn’t know if he’d imagined the mocking lilt to the man’s voice, but he returned the greeting just the same.
“I don’t like this,” Lex whispered to Teryn as they followed Helios the rest of the way into the clearing.
Teryn ignored him but he couldn’t agree more. He could almost feel the dark glares burning into his back as they tethered their horses. He could hear suspicion pitched into every whisper as they approached the campfire. No, they weren’t amongst brothers at all, and Teryn wondered if the hunters felt the same. If so, they might as well have stumbled into a nest of vipers.
22
Teryn barely tasted his meal as he ate. Every bite of pheasant settled like ash in his stomach. But he kept on eating. Kept filling his mouth with one slow bite after the next if only to keep from having to talk. Thankfully, Helios took the brunt of that burden, joking with the men and regaling them with hunting tales so convincing, Teryn entertained the possibility that this had been his true identity all along. Whenever a question was directed at Teryn, he kept his answers brief. And when the same happened to Lex, particularly when he was caught staring at the caged unicorn, Helios interjected before he could speak. “This one’s mute.”
One of the hunters, a man Teryn had learned was named Sam, began to gesture with his hands.
“And dumb,” Helios added. “Hunting’s the only thing he’s keen at.”
Lex started to scowl but seemed to think the better of it, adopting a vacant expression instead. Teryn could see evidence of his indignation in the red flush that crawled up his neck.
After dinner, the mood became far more relaxed. Helios’ act was so convincing that the man who’d held the crossbow—Hammond—insisted they stay the night. After that, bottles of rum were passed around, and the mood relaxed even further. Lex retired to his bedroll early, stomping the whole way there. Berol too abandoned Teryn, fleeing the incessant chatter and taking a perch in one of the trees. Meanwhile, Teryn remained at the campfire. Listening. Watching. He studied the men, their behavior, their words, trying to glean as much information as he could. He knew better than to rely on Helios alone. The hunters were all in various states of dress, most down to their tunics. Others wore heavily armed bandoliers while a few remained bundled in greatcoats. He caught sight of a sigil on their coat sleeves—a black crescent moon on an indigo background—the same sigil that was on the paper Helios had. He wondered if it belonged to Duke Morkai, the man Helios had mentioned as having a monopoly on the unicorn hunt.
As the night wore on, it was safe to say the men were the most unpleasant company he’d ever kept. Not in their treatment of him, but in the hard looks in their eyes, the sharpness of their words, their unsavory topics of conversation. Blood. Violence. Their treatment of women. It only served to further unsettle the meal in his stomach.
Teryn accepted the rum whenever it passed his way but he did all his drinking in act, determined to keep his focus sharp. Though, time and again, his attention slid to the caged creature. There were six cages in total, but only one was occupied. The unicorn inside was nothing like the enormous white one Teryn had confronted that morning. This one seemed weak, wobbling on its legs. His chest felt tight as he watched it, unable to tear his eyes away—
“I know that look.” Teryn startled as the youngest man of the party, James, sat next to him. “That’s envy, isn’t it? I take it you didn’t have the best luck during your contract.”
Teryn grunted his response. He was going for a Helios-like persona. Man of few words. Gruff. It was a bit nauseating impersonating a man he so disliked, but if that was what it took to keep a low profile, he’d do it.
