All the while, the pull in my chest feltright, like it was satisfied with our winding progress.
When a small stream appeared, we halted again. Aric’s shoulders stiffened as he angled his face toward the sky. The quiet wash of rustling branches was all that came over the wind.
Aric remained still, listening. I glanced around, searching for what spooked him. There was nothing here but dead land and that stream.
The stream.
One of my favorite places to trap food had always been the village stream. Animals tended to congregate around resources, like water.
Humans tended do the same.
Harthon freed a hand from the reins as Aric met his eyes, then we continued forward at a cautious crawl, the tension so thick, I feared it was a visible thing. The wind gave nothing away, and neither did the land, a desolate tapestry of mottled tree trunks, brambles, and uneven ground spanning as far as the eye could see.
With every step, I expected an arrow to whiz through the air, or a camouflaged body to pounce from behind a rock or tree. Neither happened, and we made it to the banks of the shallow stream without incident. Crossing it was equally uneventful.
When we gathered on the other side, Aric pointed to the water and palmed his canteen. Stefano dismounted and collected our containers to fill them. He moved fast, as antsy as the rest of us, pacing the stream to find a spot deep enough for the water to run clear of sediment.
The snick of metal catching sliced through the air.
Stefano froze mid-step.
My heart barreled into my throat as I zeroed in on his boot. From atop the horse, I could see nothing but dirt.
Harthon lifted a palm, a silent order to stay put. He set the reins in my hand and slunk to the ground. Infinitely careful footsteps brought him behind Stefano. He crouched, and with painstaking care, brushed against the dirt beside Stefano’s boot.
The silver jaws of a metal trap revealed themselves. The same kind that’d taken my horse, only newer.
Skies.
Stefano was a statue as Harthon dusted off the trap. Its circumference was big, its steel peaks like jagged teeth. Themoment Stefano released pressure, those teeth would snap into his leg. If the trap malfunctioned, there was a small chance he could leap out of the way before it trapped him. But that was no guarantee, and the price to pay was too high.
Harthon calmly returned to the horse to rustle through a saddle bag. There was no panic in his movements, just the confidence of a man who was in control. Some of my own panic eased.
He whispered something to Stefano who nodded, and returned to the trap at his foot. With a surgeon’s caution, he brought two small daggers to Stefano’s heel, and I realized he intended to jam the springs.
The blades would only hold for a second, if that.
A second was all Stefano needed. With practiced reflexes, he yanked his foot up and away. The slap of metal on metal an instant later was like thunder in the quiet wilderness.
They wasted no time celebrating.
Aric was already kicking his horse into a trot when Harthon landed behind me. I didn’t spare the time to hand him the reins, steering the stallion forward. This was no old trap, like the one in the mountains that took my horse. Someone would be checking it. And when they saw the empty closed claws, they’d be searching for whatever it was that escaped.
Harthon nudged my hands, taking the reins. We both knew I wasn’t skilled enough on horseback to maintain this speed while weaving through the terrain. With my hands freed, I cast my focus to our surroundings. The wide span of a bird’s wings caught my periphery. It coasted almost casually on the wind, a black shadow against the clouded sky.
Some of the bands winding me tight released. The bird was a comforting sign. At that size, it made for a hearty meal. Like any animal, it would flee any predators. Maybe there wasn’t a horde of adversaries chasing us, after all.
For now, anyway.
The bird dipped into the tree line, skirting ahead of us. In a flurry of feathers, it abruptly stopped on a low tree branch—despite the six humans and five horses approaching it.
Like the wolf, it apparently didn’t fear us. Or, namely,me.
I was ready to dismiss it when it spread its wings wide, but remained on its perch. I squinted at the bird, then the ground beneath it, where a low patch of brambles sat.
Brambles that…weren’t sitting right. We were about to pass by them.
I grabbed the reins and yanked.
