Within the next hour, our group prepares to ride into Brimmond Wood. I am unaccustomed to traveling in a group. I am also uncomfortable with the thought that my beloved was missing in the dark of night.
I map security with myWächtersquadron.
“At all costs, my mother must be kept safe,” I tell Anders, Lowell, and Nolan.
Anders says, “The countess and Lady Rylan will—”
“Ry can fight as well as any of you.” I speak loudly, knowing that my sister and the otherWächtersoldiers hear. “We’ve trained since we were old enough to hold a weapon. The duke has, as well. Mymotheris the priority.”
“Aye, Hunter.” Nolan sets off, barking commands and getting things in order.
As the group finishes preparation, Isabeau pauses at my side. “They all know you are the Hunter.”
“Yes, theWächterknows. The queen has laws on which people may know.” I cannot allow myself to be affectionate with her right now.
“But not the duke who lives nearest the gate to Faerie? The queen’sniece?” Isabeau prods.
“You would have known in time. Your father did.”
“I have more questions, love.”
“And I will answer them, but notnow. In private, I can be the person I want to be with you, but here ... I am only the Hunter. The mission comes first. Always.” I make a gesture, circling my hand over my head, and the assembled group begins to ride out into the woods. Though no one addresses it, I know I face three obstacles—the monster in the woods, the possible curse upon the duke, and the desire to keep all of my group safe. I feel like my goals are at odds.
Mother and Rylan are in a light post-chaise, a covered carriage that seats two riders. Typically, a postboy would drive the carriage, but today one of the armed soldiers drives. Within the carriage, Rylan is incredibly well armed, functioning as our mother’s personal guard. I trust her above all others to protect our mother.
Isabeau and I are on horseback on either side of the carriage, and the elevenWächtersoldiers on horseback surround the group. Three soldiers—including Anders—ride behind the carriage, two join Isabeau and me on each side, and three ride in the front as the tip of the spear. All but Nolan are women. He is in the front.
At each side is a tried-and-true fighter. Even still, I worry. Anders and Nolan are reliable, as are Rylan and Isabeau. The other soldiers—selected by Anders, Lowell, and Nolan—are well trained, gazes attentive. The beast is smart, though, and Brimmond Wood is thick.
“Do you see anything?” Rylan asks, voice pitched low.
“No.”
“Hear anything?”
“Silence. More than I would like,” I admit. “As if ... the forest is waiting.”
“Trust your instincts.” The countess glances at me before returning her gaze forward. She is tense, face pinched, but I am unsure whether it is the quick ride or the circumstances.
We’ve only traveled as far as the far side of the village when Anders raises an arm above her head and says, “Hunter?”
I bark orders quickly, “Halt. Hold your positions. Stay alert.”
I urge Clatterbuck forward, knowing without doubt that a dead body waits for me. When I reach Anders, I feel a cold chill wash over me. Seeing the dead is always hard, but the man half buried in the fallen leaves is not a stranger, and death hits harder when the dead are familiar. A noise escapes me, even as I try to stifle it.
“Hunter?” Rylan asks. The single word is a blur of questions.Are you well? Do you need me?Twins do not actually share a secret language, but we have known how to communicate since we shared a womb.
I shake my head against the hot saliva filling my mouth. The scent of death is worse in the humid air. The mingled scent of death and decay make me need to pause. I can’t look back at the group as I say, “Girard.”
At first, I am stricken by the competing urge to send riders to the village and to not let a soul leave our side. Then, training takes over, pressing my emotions down deep.
I tell Anders, “Soldiers face outward. Eyes alert on the perimeter.”
Then: “Ry? Assist or guard?”
“Guard.” Rylan’s voice is steady. “Isa can assist you.”
“Nolan? Anything?”
