Maybe I don’t want to know.
After what feels like hours of running, we push our way through another thick bush and emerge near a huge waterfall.
I stop, panting for breath, bending over in a vain attempt to soothe the stitch in my side. Whoever I am, I don’t run marathons for fun.
“Haley, we must keep going.” There’s an urgent note in Sian’s voice but it’s been there since she first stumbled across me, and now I’m ready to revolt. I’ve banged into too many thorn bushes and stubbed my toes against too many logs. My throat is screaming for water or more of those juicy fruit things. I need to figure out how the event organizers changed the sky to show not one, not two, but five full moons.
What the hell sort of Ren Faire is this?
“I can’t,” I gasp, clutching my side. The initial rush of adrenaline I got when we first set off has subsided, and now all I want to do is lie down. “Just give me a second.”
With a sigh, Sian seats herself on the edge of a boulder.
A bright red lightning bug zooms into my face and I rear back. “Geez. This is like a bad trip. I swear I’m never doing ‘shrooms again.”
Sian chuckles. “You speak funny.”
“You know, I was going to say the same thing about you.”
A harsh screech rings out. It’s high above us in a towering tree, but we both jump. “My god,” I say, pressing a shaking hand to my chest. “That sounded like a pterodactyl.” It didn’t sound like a fake Jurassic Park sound effect either. It sounded real. “You said we’re in the Forest Kingdom? What state are we in?”
“State? This is a Kingdom.”
“Right,” I say. Sian isn’t going to break character. She’s obviously a method actor, hired by some insane Fantasy Faire organizer who’s intent on making all his Tolkien dreams come true.
“Okay. Fine. Try telling that to the IRS,” I mutter to myself.
Sian jumps up. “We need to go. The river dilutes our scent, but soon the Alphas will be close enough to scent us.”
“And that’s bad, right?”
“If they scent us, they can find us.” She sounds like she’s explaining things to a total noob. “We don't want to be found until the end of the hunt.”
“Why not? What will they do?” Unless her answer is that we’ll be killed and eaten, I’m not running another foot.
“They’ll—” Her ears twitch. She cranes her head around. “Do you hear that?”
I strain for a moment, listening. The forest is full of sounds—creaking insects, leaves rustling in the treetops, the distant squawking of the pterodactyl bird.
Sian holds up a finger. “The hunters.”
There’s a rhythmic thudding, like hoofbeats. And it’s getting louder. “You’re kidding me,” I say. “They’re on horseback? While we’re on foot? That’s so unfair!”
“Tyrlee,” Sian says, and glances around, obviously trying to decide where to go next.
“What?”
A blast of a horn rings out, louder than a pterodactyl cry. There’s a distant sound of whooping and cheering.The hunters.
“Come on!” Sian leaps onto a rock in the middle of the river and splashes to the opposite bank.
Frozen to the spot, I stare after her until she’s disappeared into the foliage, the pounding of the hooves getting louder until it’s echoing in my aching skull.
Well, fuck.
TWO
The Hunter King
