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Fate and Revel

Page 22

by Tess Oliver

“That’s their special power,” Austri said. He’d sat himself down to rest nearby. “They can get in your head and find a memory, a smell that’s important to you, a smell that makes you happy, and they recreate it and send it through the air. It’s the perfect lure for an unsuspecting victim.”

“So, they got in my head and found my mom’s Christmas morning cinnamon rolls. That’s terrifying and also pretty damn brilliant.”

“They are clever little vermin, that’s for certain.” Austri stretched and yawned. “Being back in the flesh again is tiring.”

Madigan tensed up. “Revel is going to approach them.”

I looked through again, unsure if I really wanted to watch. “They couldn’t possibly take down someone like Revel,” I said.

“Not that they wouldn’t try, given the opportunity,” Madigan said. “But I don’t think so.” As she said it, she picked up her bow.

Revel’s tall silhouette appeared. He made the short boneweavers look miniature. I’d just watched the wily little monsters tear a wild boar to shreds in seconds, but Revel stood facing them down without an ounce of fear.

“They hate fire.” Lyric had crouched down next to me.

She wasn’t exaggerating. Revel merely moved the torch with its unimpressive flame toward the circle of boneweavers, and they raised their hands and arms and leaned back in revulsion. “We just want the tri-mix,” one of them managed to squeak out. “Just give us the tri-mix.”

I looked at Lyric and pointed to my chest. “Me?”

“Rare bones,” Lyric mouthed.

We turned back toward the tense scene unfolding through the trees.

“You’ve got your boar bones. Leave now and I won’t set you all ablaze.” The threat would have worked better if the flames at the top of the torch had been actual flames and not just a red glow.

Even the fire-phobic beasts weren’t convinced Revel could do much harm with the torch. The circle of boneweavers inched closer to Revel. He waved the torch menacingly around. The movement through the dense air doused the last bit of fire on the torch. Even the glow was gone.

Madigan moved her feet, ready to spring into action. I was sure she could take out a few of them with her amazing archery skills, but there were dozens now in the clearing. Apparently, word had spread about my delightfully rare bones. I wondered briefly if my skull on a crown would mean instant ascension to king or president or big bone mayor or whatever they called their leader.

“Think I’d better get out there,” Madigan whispered.

I had to force myself to look through the opening. The creatures moved closer, but Revel didn’t budge. He stood still, watching them close in on him.

“Is he frozen in fear?” I asked Lyric.

She put her hand over her mouth to stop a laugh. “Not Revel. He doesn’t know fear.”

We looked through the trees again. The boneweavers were in striking distance. Lyric and I held each other. Madigan had been ready to help, but she was now more relaxed, her bow at her side.

A silver streak flashed through the air, a squeak and horrified gasps followed. The head of the boneweaver with the skull crown rolled across the loamy ground. His small goblin-like body stood headless for a second and then crumpled to the forest floor. The others stared at their fallen leader’s head for all of a second, then they scrambled like fire ants on a dead cockroach over the lobbed off head. One hand emerged from the chaotic jumble of boneweavers. It held the skull crown in its long fingers. The melee stilled, and the others backed away from the victor. The boneweaver grinned so widely, his single long tooth was nearly at cheek level. He placed the crown on his head, and the others dropped down on the ground making a cooing sound.

Revel walked toward them. “Are you next?” He asked the newly crowned leader. “Or maybe you?” He held up his axe, and the creatures ran off so quickly, the trees temporarily bent in the direction they’d fled.

“Hey, Austri,” Revel yelled from the clearing. “Let’s start a fire. We’ve got boar steaks to go with the fry bread Osco brought.”

Austri hopped to his feet as if someone had lit a fire beneath him. “Now we’re talking. At least those feckin’ boneweavers are good for something.”

Lyric and I collected fallen branches for a fire. They had to be dry and moss free, but we managed to gather armfuls. I couldn’t picture myself nibbling on boar steaks, particularly since bloody remnants of the poor creature were still strewn about the clearing. I had to lean far to the side of my pile of wood to watch that I didn’t step in any of the ripped flesh. Lyric and I both sighed in exhaustion as we dropped the dead branches into the makeshift pit.

Austri had collected up the flesh pieces he thought would make the tenderest steaks. He took his job seriously, so seriously Revel grew impatient and let Austri know he’d be on the handmade spit next if he didn’t fill it with boar’s meat soon. Austri beamed as he skewered the meat on the spit. He pulled a piece of flint from his cloak and struck it half a dozen times with a sharp rock. Finally, a substantial spark landed on the kindling, and with some coaxing from Austri, minutes later we were sitting around flames.

A swirl of fragrant smoke rose from the fire. “Won’t the smoke bring back the boneweavers?” I asked. I was still not keen to give up my bones, rare or not.

“Not today,” Madigan said. She shot Revel a beaming smile. “Not bad, vamp trash. I’m not sure if I would have thought of that so quickly.” Madigan turned to me. “When the boneweavers pick a new leader, they disappear into their caves for a good month to celebrate and lay out new rules and laws. It’s a big deal. They’ll be occupied with the coronation festivities. No time for bone collecting.”

“That’s great news,” I said. “I’m rather fond of my bones. And my flesh, for that matter. And speaking of my flesh—this fire is hot.” I stood up and untied my cloak. I couldn’t believe how at home I felt in their rugged, primitive garments. I set the cloak down, and as my eyes swept up, they were caught in Revel’s magnetic gaze. He stared at me as if I’d just popped into view. His eyes held mine for a second and then he dragged them away from my face and raked his hazel gaze slowly down the skintight breeches to my boots.

Madigan cleared her throat loudly and elbowed him. He tore his gaze away, but the way he’d looked at me left me with a hot flush that started at my face and ran all the way down to those same boots. And the flush had nothing to do with the fire.