I don’t think I’m a dog person anymore.
—opening line attempt 72
I awoke before the sun, as usual, Hesper fast asleep beside me, a dagger clutched in her hand. She still looked as if she could jump into battle at any moment. Her wayward curls fell wildly over her face. I resisted the urge to push them out of the way.
Easing myself out of my bedroll, I made for my travel pack. First and foremost, I needed to check on the seeds. Then, I could write! Rosie had gifted me several travel quills for my journey. She’d put in a special order to Lore Isles for them. It had to have cost her a fortune.
The thought of Rosie sent a painful twinge through my heart. What if I didn’t see her again? I was in a forest with a person I barely knew, and there wasn’t simply athreatof danger in the coming days. It was a promise.
A small woodbine violet withered beside me, the gentle purples turning a sodden brown before my eyes. Damn it. I couldn’t dwell on those thoughts right now. The seeds weretoo close to me, and I’d risk depleting the magic within them before I even arrived at Dwindle.
I shook my head, willing the ruminations to go elsewhere for the day. Pulling out my quill, I set to work. Doing anything without a cup of tea in the morning was sacrilege, but I pressed on.
There once were two friends—unlikely and odd, but friends they were, nonetheless.
Not very interesting. But it made me think of Edge and Warty. My gaze fell onto Hesper, and I let my mind wander.
There once were two friends—unlikely and odd, but friends they were, nonetheless.
There once was a woman so fair and so fierce that the entire world sank to its knees before her.
No, that was nothing. But my thoughts kept going, even though my quill stilled. Hesper, infuriating and secretive, looked carved from stone. Her even breaths filled the dawn with puffs of mist, making her resemble a slumbering dragon rather than a human. Something pulled at my heart—whether pain or something else, I didn’t quite know.
I tore out the page and crumpled it up, throwing it into the dying embers.
A growl sounded from somewhere deep in the forest, a thick silence falling in its wake. I didn’t think much of it. But then Hesper was on her feet, dagger at the ready, as she placed a hushing finger over her mouth.
The stench of carrion wrapped around us—the cloying, putrid scent clinging to my senses. I covered my mouth to stifle my gag. Sticks snapped in the distance. Something approached. A thick darkness fell between the trees, muting out the light.
Hesper looked at the oncoming shadow with a gleam in her eyes, almost as if taunting it to come and get her. I could hear Edge cawing high in the sky, but he never descended.
The bramble in front of us began moving, more sticks breaking, and birds flew out of their nests, shrieking. A mangled paw emerged first, the black, matted fur thick with burrs and what looked to be dried blood. The claws were as long as the dagger Hesper held in her hand, digging into the moss and dirt beneath.
And then came the monster in full.
A hound like I had never seen before in my life, except in storybooks meant to scare children.
The thing was the size of a horse, its gaping maw full of broken teeth in between razor-sharp fangs. And its eyes were glowing bright red, full of nothing but bloodlust. They burned a hole right through me. The monster did not let out an almighty roar as it surveyed Hesper and me. Instead, it let out a low yowl like the wind before a storm destined to ruin a whole town, a whole people. It was in no hurry to pounce. This predator liked to toy with its prey.
Hesper stood her ground, but the monster had no interest in her. It turned its mighty head right at me. We looked at each other for a moment before it reared onto its haunches and leapt.
There was nothing I could do as I watched the beast leap over the fire, its claws reaching for me. Time was suspended,the monster almost frozen midair. I supposed the last moments were like that: prolonged, vicious, practically eternal.
Hesper moved in front of me, pushing me back behind her, but it was no use. The monster soared through the air, sharp claws angled for me.
I shut my eyes, waiting for the impact and then darkness. But it never came.
The final moments were long, but they couldn’t have been that long. I dared crack open my eyes.
The monster hung suspended above the fire, frozen in time. His great, burning eyes were the only part of him that moved. He no longer stared at me, though; his gaze rested behind me. Ire replaced bloodlust in his eyes, and my body went cold at the promise of vengeance therein.
“Not in my woods, Margast,” a vast and powerful voice spoke behind me. I thought I knew it, but my fear kept me from grasping onto who it could be.
Margast, nightmare bringer. This wasn’t just a monstrous hound; this was a legendary beast of evil. Old stories told of him cleaving light in two with his mighty claws.
“It’s been too long, witch,” Margast spoke. His voice, as deep as the earth, crackled like wildfire. “Thanadyn will be happy to know you’re still wasting away.”
Thanadyn?
