The next morning, I’m frigid and stiff but still alive. There were no wolf attacks in the night. No deadly creatures creeping around—that I know about.
After I find a small burbling spring for Tuck to drink from, I pull an apple from my pack and eat half before sharing the rest with my horse. It isn’t much, but our provisions are meager. I’m not sure how we’ll survive this journey with what little sustenance we have, but food is something I can think about scavenging now that I have the blessing of daylight.
Using a stone, I crack open several black walnuts that the wildlifehas yet to find and drop them into my pack. Then Tuck and I set off, heading north into the trees.
I scour the forest as we ride, searching for any sign of Alexus or Mannus. Horse droppings give me hope. It’s fromonehorse, not a dozen, which means I’m not following the prince’s soldiers.
We ride for hours, the day passing far too quickly. I mark our trail as we go, stopping to carve marks into the trees and build small cairns of stones so I might find my way back to the thicket should we need to return and try again. I’m no hunter like Finn’s father, but I know it’s best to leave yourself a map, however crude.
Later, the shift of the sun across the sky tells me dusk is coming. I’m so tired and sore from sleeping on the ground, and I’m hungry, too, but I’m scared to eat what little food I have left. I settle for a bite of bread, some bitter walnuts, and a few sips of water while Tuck nibbles on sparse tufts of grass.
As we eat, I lean against a pine tree and stare east, back the way we came. Dozens of black birds roost in the treetops, their beady eyes watching me as closely as I’m watching them. They’ve flown at our backs all day. Never ahead.
Like they’re following me.
Are these the prince’s winged demons? Were they left behind without their master?
The image of the Prince of the East stalking toward me on the village green, that black crow perched on his shoulder, flashes across my mind. I shake off the chill the memory causes, though the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I mount Tuck. It’s the ruffle of wings behind us that won’t let me feel anything but trepidation as I urge her into a trot. Nightfall will arrive all too soon, and I fear I’ll have unwanted company watching from the trees.
When twilight settles over the wood, I push Tuck harder, my heart beginning to pound with dread. I know I can’t outrun time, but an acute sense of desperation fills me when nightfall’s shadows arise behind every tree once again. When I was a girl, I had nightmares about being lost inside this forest, and now, here I am, alone amid a sea of timber, the wood darkening with my every ragged breath.
I’m not going to find the Collector. I might not even find Winter Road.
But I must keep trying.
I tug the reins to the left and guide Tuck around a rocky outcropping. Unexpectedly, the mare slams to a halt, nearly sending me careening over her head. I hold tight and rock back in my saddle as terrible howls echo through the forest, sending a burst of crows flying from the treetops at our backs. Blessedly, they fly north, and their cawing fades.
Pulse racing, I peer up at the foliage blocking most of the sky. With a sigh, I rake a shaky hand through my hair, clearing the strands from my eyes, and will my heart to slow. I inherited my father’s hot head, a trait that has often led me into quite the predicament, though perhaps none so dangerous as being trapped in this damned forest all alone.
“I didn’t take you for such a difficult student, Bloodgood.”
Startled, I whip Tuck around and reach for my dagger, only to find Alexus sitting casually on Mannus’s back, hands resting on his saddle’s pommel.
My heart swells with relief.
He’s here.He’s here.
Hedidcome looking for me.
A shaft of early-evening light splinters the forest’s canopy, illuminating him enough that I can make out the smug look on his face. Though I want to throttle him for sneaking up on me like this, I cannot deny the overwhelming sense of deliverance I feel in his presence.
I ride into the soft light.“And I did not take you for a trickster teacher, Collector,” I reply with quick hands. “I suppose we were both wrong.”
One dark brow rises, and he lifts his chin. He gives me a once-over that—if I’m not mistaken—holds a twinkle of admiration despite his eyes being filled with barely bridled irritation.
“You have fire in you,” he says. “I don’t despise it.”
I scoff.“You called me a cursed woman.”
“Because you seem to have a way of vexing me with that smart mouth of yours,” he replies. “But I don’t despise your mettle. I’d rather have a fighter with me, even if sheisscaredof her own shadow.”
My anger flares at his backhanded compliment, and I ready my hands to land a harsh retort, but he stops me with a glare.
“No more arguing. I need you to listen. Your actions have done nothing but slow us.” He presses his heels into Mannus’s flanks and walks the animal forward until he’s alongside me. With a penetrating look, Alexus raises a fist and extends his finger. “This was a lesson. You’re lucky I turned around and even luckier that I actually found you.” He leans in, his leathers creaking. “If your self-serving independence is a problem again, know that I will not be so kind as to rush to your aid for a second time. The people we care about need us, and I will not be deterred from helping them again. Do you understand?” I hesitate to reply, and his voice deepens. “I said,do you understand?”
Pride is difficult to swallow when it comes to him, but darkness closes in all around, so I do it anyway. Though it kills me, I give the Witch Collector a single, stiff nod.
An annoyed smirk twists his lips into a wicked half-smile as he sits back in his saddle. “Good. See how easy that was? I might tame you yet.” He thrusts his chin toward the west. “Now, come on. Let’s find a place to rest.”
