Chapter Forty-One

That evening, Astrid brought Johanna, Suri, and the other forest rangers cookies and thermoses of tea and Eintopf to fortify them against the cold. They had a few days yet before the poachers and their Wiederg?nger masters gained enough strength to return—per Perchta’s calculations and Cigarette Man’s truth serum–addled ramblings—but it was all somewhat corroborated guesswork in the end, hence the need to stake out the campsite ahead of time.

The forest rangers were stern and grim-faced when she arrived but lit up at the sight of hot beverages and food.

“How’s it been?” Astrid asked Suri, doling out portions.

Suri shoved a cookie into their mouth, making a pleased sound as they chewed, eyes rolling back. After swallowing, they said, “Cold. Terribly dull. Don’t know what I was expecting. If I’d been thinking, I would’ve brought a book.”

Lowering her voice, Astrid then asked, “How’re Johanna and the others doing?”

“Tense,” Suri whispered back, growing serious. “On edge. Though they’re trying not to let it show. It’s the anticipation that’s getting to them, knowing something’s coming but not when or how many there will be or whether we’re nearly as prepared as we think. Johanna wants to get the bastards who killed the wolves, but she’s afraid, too. The people she loves and cares about are facing down some otherworldly danger, and there’s nothing she can do about it, because she knows we’re too stubborn to let her cut us out. It’s keeping her up at night.”

“I suppose there’s no chance she’d just let Gudarīks and I handle this?”

Suri shook their head. “This is her job, and our responsibility, to protect the forest and the people who live near it. We’ll do our part, there’s no budging on that.”

Something in Astrid’s chest twinged. The stubborn loyalty of these humans, taking charge and answering for the sins of others, all because it was necessary and the right thing to do. It was ridiculously selfless and good—things she was not—but it overwhelmed her with fierce, sticky emotions.

“I wish there was something I could do or say.” Real, genuine comfort that actually meant something. The usual platitudes rang false and foolish. She couldn’t promise something wildly unenforceable like “everything will be all right,” not with the dangers they faced. Humans liked that sort of thing, but such fantasy helped no one.

“It might make them feel better to see you do a test run of the trap Perchta said she’d teach you.”

That wasn’t a bad idea. A demonstration could lend some confidence to the group, and it would do so without giving false assurances. That is, if Johanna thought they could handle blatantly wielded magic. “I’ll check with Johanna. Make sure it doesn’t hurt more than it helps.”

The last thing any of them needed was for her to spook their allies.

As Astrid approached, Johanna sipped from a thermos, watching her over the rim. Shadowy bags underlined her eyes, and the creases around her eyes and mouth were deepened by stress—the strong, unstoppable forest ranger. She’d never seen her dear friend look so tired. So breakable.

So mortal.

She blinked away the mist forming in her eyes, gritting her teeth in determination.

If anyone, or anything, hurt her friend, she’d rip them to shreds and dance upon their entrails.

Ice spikes shooting out of the ground should’ve sent a normal human being running, but the team of forest rangers looked on eagerly.

“Not much will get past that,” one of the rangers said, a younger, blond-haired fellow in his late twenties, who threw an arm around Johanna’s shoulders, grinning. “Between this and Suri’s pepper-spraying drone, they won’t stand a chance.”

“Glad you’re on our side,” another said, and not just to Astrid, but Suri, as well.

“Can you show us that again?” asked a third.

A round of enthusiastic agreement rose.

They seemed cheered, heartened , by her magic. Who could’ve guessed that a cold, prickly hag-to-be such as herself would give humans hope? Certainly not her. And what a daunting responsibility it was.

They’d had too little hope before, and too much now. One little demonstration and they trusted her with their lives. If she failed, and someone died...

She rubbed a hand across her forehead, but it was her stomach that ached. Verdammt, caring was hard.

Magical didn’t mean invincible or infallible. To those who didn’t have it, it seemed like anything and everything was possible, but she had limits and there were costs.

When she looked up, Johanna was staring at her. Though she wore a small, lopsided smile, her eyes were weary as she mouthed, “You okay?”

How hard would Johanna take it if she lost one of her colleagues? Would she blame Astrid for not keeping them all safe? Her stomach turned over at the thought that she might lose her friend to anger and resentment. If it meant Johanna didn’t waste her precious years mired in guilt, or lose her life, she could live with that price.

The ranger’s brow furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

With a roll of her eyes, Johanna took her by her elbow and drew her away from the others. When they were out of earshot, her friend hissed, “You’re looking at me like you’re going to lose me. Do you really think we’re that incapable of handling ourselves? I know you’re not the fondest of humans, and we might not have your power or your constitution, but we’re not weak.”

“It’s not your abilities I’m doubting, it’s mine.” But then again if she thought one was lacking, that implied the other was, too. She bit her lip before she could continue to put her foot in her mouth.

Arms folding, Johanna pinned her with a sharp look. “I love you, but snap out of it. That kind of thinking is what’s keeping me up at night, so I really, really don’t need you thinking it, too.”

Maybe Johanna wouldn’t blame her then if things went wrong. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Although, I do have to ask—just as an insurance policy—if something happens to me, will you—” she swiped a hand furiously over an eye, catching a tear before it even fell “—look out for Suri? Keep them safe?”

Astrid tilted her head, brow arching. “Now who’s being defeatist?”

“Halt den Mund.” Johanna shoved her roughly by the shoulder, but a small smile cracked across her face. “Just promise me, will you? It’ll make me feel better.”

“Fine. I promise. Although it’s Suri they’ll have to fear.” Astrid glanced over her shoulder. And sure enough, Suri was flying the drone again. Making it swoop and dive and cut sharp corners around trees, leaving no room for doubt about their skills, all while wicked glee shone in their eyes.

Such dark delight Astrid understood very well. Woe to the ones who incurred their wrath.

Without warning, Johanna pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, but before Astrid could do anything more than let out a surprised squeak, the forest ranger pulled away to rejoin the others.

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