Every sense seems sharpened—the creak of leather, the whisper of branches, the way shadows shift between thehuge trunks. Somewhere far off, water drips. A branch sways overhead, even though there’s no wind.
Anticipation of the hunt ahead sings through me, every nerve ending alive and ready.
Aldric reads the ground, stopping to examine broken branches and scuffed earth. Once, he crouches beside a muddy depression and gestures for me to look. There’s a footprint there, almost human-like. The sight of it sends a thrill down my spine.
We follow the trail deeper into the wood. The path weaves through dense undergrowth, crosses streams, and doubles back on itself twice. Aldric loses the trail and has to cast around in widening circles before picking it up again.
I don’t mind. I’m in no rush, and I’m savoring every second.
“We’re close now,” Tommas says after maybe two hours. “Very close.”
The tracks lead us down into a shallow ravine and disappear into a rocky streambed. We dismount and pick our way slowly, guiding the horses over slick stones. The water is barely a trickle, but the rocks are treacherous with moss.
Aldric moves upstream, gesturing for us to remount and wait. I’m still adjusting my balance in the saddle when my horse’s head snaps up, ears flat and nostrils flaring.
Then she bolts.
The reins tear free of my fingers. I throw myself forward and grab for her mane, clinging to her neck as she scrambles up the opposite slope. Branches whip past my face, the world turning into a blur of green and brown. I lunge for the reins and finally catch them, but she doesn’t slow. Whatever she sensed has her beyond reason, running blindly through the undergrowth.
All I can do is hold on.
She runs until her sides heave and her legs shake. Then she stops, head hanging, flanks dark with sweat. I slide from herback on trembling legs, reach for my bow, and scan the trees, trying to calm my breathing. The forest has gone utterly still around me, the only sound is my heartbeat thundering in my ears, and the soft huff of my horse’s breath.
Stay where you are.That’s what Tommas said. They’ll find me.
“Brennan!” My voice echoes through the trees and fades without answer. “Wil! Nella!”
Nothing.
I call again and again, turning in a slow circle, straining to hear hoofbeats or voices—anythingat all. The forest gives me nothing back.
Then …
A branch cracks somewhere to my left. My horse throws her head up, the whites of her eyes showing, and I spin toward the sound, heart lurching, hand going to my quiver.
I can’t see anything, but that wasn’t a bird or a squirrel. It was heavy enough to snap wood. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I should keep waiting. I should stay here until the Dell’s guides find me, the way they said they would.
Instead, I nock an arrow and move toward the sound.
TWO
ALLERIA
“Brennan?”I whisper-shout his name. “Wil?”
The only reply I get is more rustling. My heart rate picks up. I should stay where I am and wait for them to find me … but the noise is so close.
Placing the arrow back in the quiver, I sling the bow over my shoulder and tie my horse to a tree. Once I’m certain she’s secure, I turn and push through the undergrowth toward the sound.
Brambles snag my sleeves, low branches catch in my hair. Every nerve in my body is pulled taut, but I keep moving.
It’s probably a fox. It’s fine. It’s not a bear or a boar.The fae hunting reserves don’t keep any other wild game on their lands. Anyway, Brennan will come crashing through the trees at any moment now, red-faced and worried, and I’ll feel foolish for being so afraid.
“Brennan? I’m over here.”
Stillno answer. Maybe they can’t hear me over the sound of their horses' hooves. Or they don’t want to let the fae know their location.
