“Seven skies,” Anya groaned.
“It’s why I became a king’s wizard.” Sabina pressed her lips together. “Only, it hasn’t panned out quite the way I imagined. I’m just as talented as the men, certainly farmorethan some of them, but –oh!”
Sabina let out a high-pitched squeal of disgust. Focused on Perrine, she had stepped in something up to the ankle of her kitten-heel boots. A wet pile of dark red sludge.
Perrine grabbed her by the shoulders and jerked her backward. Her boot made a squelching sound as she pulled it free.
Anya crouched low to examine the muck. The noxious smell of decaying blood slipped up her nostrils.
The texture reminded her of a rare treat Johanna used to make, one that paired well with the walnut flour biscuits. Rose hip and raspberry jam. Dark red, glistening and thick, filled with shining little bits of sweet rose hip, sprinkled with raspberry seeds and dark flecks of mint leaf.
The bits and flecks floating in this pile were not seeds or leaves.
As she realized what it was, bile rose up her throat; she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep it down. “Fuck,” she murmured under her hand.
“What is it?” Sabina demanded, voice wavering.
“Meat,” replied Perrine.
It was then Anya noticed a bit of cloth sticking out of the mess, what looked like a piece of someone’s sleeve. Heart pounding, Anya grabbed a stick. “I thought you said the others went back.”
“Most of them did,” Sabina said wanly.
“There were other hunters from Preule, as well,” Perrine provided.
Anya shifted through the viscera with her stick. She found more scraps of cloth, but not a velvet coin purse or a golden pen. Not a gilded earring with leaves of carnelian.
“What’s that?” Perrine said, crouching low and pointing.
Anya saw it, on the ground outside the wet mess – shiny and black, glistening blue and green in the sunlight. A beetle’s wing.
Perrine’s voice was small. “Buzzard beetles.”
Grimly, Anya nodded, and Perrine’s face went white.
“What?” Sabina said, looking between them. “What is a buzzard beetle?”
Anya answered. “Carnivorous, and they only eat mammals. Something about the warmth of the blood.” She grimaced. “They’re harmless enough alone. But when they’re hungry, they swarm, eat the skin and the bones, and regurgitate the rest.” Anya pointed. “There’s the rest.”
“Seven skies,” Sabina whispered, blanching.
With a jolt, Anya felt a sickening buzzing under her skin, reverberating in the hollows of her bones. “Do you hear that?”
Perrine turned her ear to the wind. “I hear nothing.” The falcon on her shoulder suddenly cocked her head, let out a chirp, and flew into the air. “Shit. She does.”
“The beetles,” Anya said. She rose, throwing the bloody stick aside. “A swarm. It’s coming this way. Quickly, you must run. Head for the river.”
Perrine paused when she saw Anya did not move to go with her. “What are you doing?”
“I’ll head north for the valley, lead them away. Go, you must go!”
“No. You could die,” Perrine protested.
The buzzing grew stronger. “They’re coming. If they catch us, we’llalldie.”
Adamant, Perrine shook her head. “I’m not going without you.”
“I hear them now,” said Sabina, her voice tight.
