24. Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Very few ventured to the bridge past twilight, let alone crossed it. Midnight dragged the moon to the highest point in the sky, and there it sat, watchful over a cloaked girl slipping through the wet grass like a wraith. She walked alone, clutching tight to a borrowed, bone-handled knife.
A shriek pierced the air. Fury and fear melded into a cry that tore at Lux’s ears and sent cold sweat trickling down her back.
A successful trap. She had hoped to find them empty. She didn’t have a choice now, and, with a quick glance at the glimmering blade, the flicker of resolve grew to a steady weight within her.
She neared the wood’s edge, the trees silent and unmoving, the darkness within complete. With a slash of the knife, the rope suspending the first trap fell.
The cry filled the air again.
Lux crept along the outskirts of the forest, eyes trained on its insides. Another empty trap fell beneath her blade. Three. Four. Five.
She destroyed them all. Save one.
She stared across the moonlit grass, watched it writhe. Howling, the creature fought to free itself from the binds. Fingers blanched even as sweat slipped along the knife’s handle. Lux only gripped it harder, squeezing her fear away.
The beast stilled.
It smelled her, and yellowed eyes tracked her scent as she stood tall, the gleam of her weapon shining beneath the moon’s light. A low howl sounded again, but it was no longer one of fear.
Rage.
How it longed to tear at her throat.
She swallowed. “Your sacrifice is appreciated, beast.”
But the eyes left hers. They sought the trees. Lux dropped to a crouch as a shadow moved within the copse.
Cloaked in grey, it floated from beneath the boughs toward the restrained howler. Yellowed eyes closed. The animal fell to its dark, cat-like haunches, the rope buried deep into the skin of its thick neck. With pale, dirt-encrusted fingers, the phantom reached forward, wrapped them around the rope, and released the beast.
Lux’s body was stone. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. She simply waited.
And when the phantom disappeared into the trees, the howler stalking at its side, she allowed the bone handle to slip through her fingers. She understood something now, and it made her all the more frightened for the knowledge. For the figure was an extension of the wood itself—an ally of all within. And anything that allied itself with such evil could only be an enemy.
It must never find her.
Lux allowed another heartbeat to stutter before she tore from the forest’s edge. Back to Ghadra. Returning to a different sort of darkness, and a very real terror, but one she understood.
The whole while, she felt the trees grin at her back, watching her go.
Lux stripped damp clothes from her body.
She had kept her gaze from traveling to Riselda’s small bed as she crept silently across the floor, not wishing to meet her aunt’s questioning eyes should she awaken. Lux’s skill at moving unseen had proved ever useful, however. Riselda hadn’t stirred.
Lux piled blankets atop her, extinguishing the lamp. Then wished she hadn’t. The encompassing darkness brought the phantom to her side, and soon, a heartbeat filled the air.
Her own.
Why was she so frightened? Yet, she knew. Deep within. The phantom drifted through the wood like the very soul of the trees given form. It was a friend to howlers, unaffected by the dead, and in league with the night.
She shut her eyes and pulled the blankets higher when a swish of fabric against wood stilled her thoughts. Outside the door.
Her breath took root in her lungs, and she listened with parted lips, but the sound didn’t reoccur. In its place, rose the heavy presence of another, unmoving, against the wooden frame.
The swish of fabric again, and the presence was gone. Lux exhaled.
Only Riselda coming to snoop.
With an irritated huff, Lux rolled to her side, and promptly fell asleep.