10. One Day’s Head Start
10
ONE DAY’S HEAD START
WREN
O ne day’s head start .
Gabriel’s words echo all around us, louder than any sounds of the forest. For the longest moment, all I can do is stare at him. The Hunter .
Is he serious?
As soon as the thought appears in my head, I know the answer. Of course, he is. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s a gods-damned Hunter, for the suns’ sake. This is his job . The same one I was asking him about. The same one he was smiling about.
It’s fucking laughable that a few minutes ago, I was enjoying this man’s company. Those feelings of comfort and ease have vanished because he’s not a random person I saved. He wasn’t just out in the forest for a stroll. He’s hunting me.
Oh, gods.
A quiver of fear shoots through my belly, and my legs wobble. Suns save me. Could I be any more unprepared for this? I’m a healer at heart, not a warrior. Gods, I don’t even know how to use this knife I’m still holding between us.
I’m just a woman in way over her head.
And this…
And he…
Pressure builds behind my eyes as I remain frozen in place. I blink the tears away furiously, refusing to let this man see me cry. Not now. Not after what he just said.
He rakes his hand through his hair, the light making it seem more blue than black, his eyes flashing with something akin to fury.
“Run, damn you!” he yells, his nostrils flaring. As if he’s angry. As if he’s the one being hunted. “Go!”
Oh, gods help me. He isn’t joking, and this isn’t some awful nightmare that I can wake up from. This is real, Amelia is dead, Gabriel has seen my Mark, and he’s going to hunt me.
I don’t have time to inhale, let alone pray to the gods—although, to be fair, I don’t think they’d hear a word I said. Something deep within me reacts to his command and stirs me to action.
My Mark starts burning, which is bloody inconvenient but tracks with the way my life has gone. I shove my knife back into its sheath, grab my satchel off the shale, and spin on my heels. I nearly trip on the mushrooms scattered on the ground, but I don’t dare stop or even slow down.
Run .
Gabriel’s command is still woven through the air, and the fury in his voice hits me deep in my soul. And so, I don’t beg him to reconsider. I don’t ask him to let me go. I don’t bargain or plead or scream for him to reconsider.
I just run.
Again.
My feet pound the shale, then the squishy forest floor. I can feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes drill into the back of my skull.
“Run quickly, little bird.” The wind carries Gabriel’s voice to my ears as I disappear through the trees. “I’ll be coming for you.”
An ominous promise. A vow. A reminder of who he is.
Fear scrapes its nails down my spine, and bile coats the back of my throat. I skid to a stop beside a bush and empty the contents of my stomach. I wash my mouth out with water before running again.
I force my feet to move.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
The repetitive movement is the only thing I can focus on because if I think too hard about what just happened to me, I’m going to lose whatever semblance of sanity I have left. I’ll scream and cry and curl up into a ball, never moving again.
A bird chirps above me, and it feels like the gods are laughing at me. If running on my already aching feet didn’t require every ounce of energy I possess, I would curse the gods for this awful fate.
One day’s head start, little bird.
Gabriel’s words echo in my mind, and his mockery of my family’s nickname burns me up inside.
At some point, the tears I’d tried to suppress start streaming down my face, but I don’t stop to wipe them away. I just run and run and fucking run.
* * *
Hours have passed since I left the Hunter, and I’ve been racing blindly through the woods ever since. My lungs feel like they’re home to burning embers, my heart is hammering against my ribs, and I stopped feeling my legs a long time ago. My canteen is empty, my throat is scratchy, and everything that isn’t numb hurts. Mother’s dress is splattered with mud, and my petticoat is torn in several places.
To say that this is a day from hell would be a fucking understatement.
Every so often, I swear I can feel the weight of someone’s gaze on my back. A few times, I’ve stopped and looked behind me, but I don’t see anything amiss.
Great. On top of everything else that’s gone wrong, my mind is betraying me. Of course. I would laugh, but doing so would take too much energy.
I just. Keep. Running. Thoughts of getting away from the Hunter preoccupy my thoughts so thoroughly that I don’t hear it at first. A trickle, breaking through the forest’s endless symphony of life. A call to all who hear it that nourishment is nearby.
Water.
My breath catches, and I’m suddenly aware of just how long it’s been since I’ve had a drink. My throat is no longer just scratchy. It feels like I swallowed handfuls of dust. I try to breathe past the dryness, but now that I’ve noticed it, it’s all I can think about. I used to think I knew what it meant to be hungry and thirsty, but the past few days have taught me that I was wrong.
A raspy chuckle escapes me as I stumble forward towards the water. Gods, I was a bloody fool. I didn’t know anything. Not really.
The weight of all the things I don’t know, combined with everything I’ve been forced to learn far too quickly, presses me down. It threatens to shove me to the forest floor, rendering me incapable of moving.
As appealing as it sounds, I can’t give up. Not just for me, but for Amelia.
I need to live for us both.
Even though the Hunter’s so-called “gift” is laughable, I will use it to my advantage. He won’t win—not if I can help it.
Digging deep within myself for strength, I quicken my pace. I shove branches aside, ignoring the way they slap me in the face as I stumble towards the rushing water. It’s growing louder by the second, encouraging me forward.
Come, come, come , the water seems to say.
I heed its call, my thirst becoming more prominent with every passing step. I’m not sure how much time passes before a blue glimmer appears through the trees.
Releasing my breath in a ragged exhale, I shove the last branch aside to reveal a rushing, gurgling river. The fast-moving water is clear. Smooth, rounded rocks line the bottom of the riverbed.
I drop to my knees, a cry of relief pouring from my lips. Cupping my hands, I dip them into the water. It’s cool, and most of it slips from my fingers as I lift my hands to my mouth, but the small amount I’m able to get slides refreshingly down my throat.
The water tastes clean, free of sand and grit. It’s so cold, it’s almost sweet. Part of me had worried that it wouldn’t be drinkable, but I’ve never been happier to be proven wrong.
I need more. Grabbing my canteen, I unscrew the top. My movements are unstable, and the lid almost falls in the water. I curse and grab it, dunking the vessel into the water instead.
In my haste, I don’t wait for the canteen to fill. I yank it from the river after a few seconds, gulping down the meager contents as quickly as possible.
The water is delicious, like a decadent wine. It runs smoothly down my throat, filling my belly. I repeat the process, drinking until I can’t imagine consuming even one more drop. Then I hold the canteen underwater. Bubbles rise as water replaces air until my container is full again.
I reseal the lid and dry the canteen on my cloak before sliding it back into my bag. I need to get going, but I’m not sure when I will get a chance to wash up again. I splash water on my face and arms, and then I unlace my boots. Placing them on the riverbank beside me, I’m about to slip off my stockings to wash them when the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
I’m not alone. Awareness slithers down my spine like a snake, and I rise to my feet.
Grabbing my knife, I look around. Did the Hunter change his mind? Has he decided to come after me now? My blood chills at the thought, and my hands grow clammy. I’ve been monumentally stupid.
I don’t know anything about Gabriel other than his name and his job. Why did I think I could trust a Hunter , of all people? I’m his prey.
Everyone knows that Hunters are the most dangerous of the king’s soldiers. The things they’ll do to me if they catch me will make me wish I’d never run away in the first place.
A branch snaps across the river, the sound pulling me out of my thoughts.
Oh, gods.
Gabriel is here. He’s found me, and I’m going to die before I even have the chance to live. Frigid fear courses through my veins as I adjust my grip on my knife and ready myself to do everything I can to remain free. I won’t go willingly. He has to know that.
Even though I’m an untrained gods-blessed, I’m still capable of putting up a fight. I was too scared to fight back earlier, but that’s no longer the case.
“You suns-damned bastard. You said you’d give me a day…” My voice quiets as a pair of silver eyes meet mine from across the river, and I whisper, “You.”
The panther is a statue, its eyes locked on mine. The creature is sleek, and its shimmering coat reflects the setting suns. It’s the same one I encountered before, I’m sure of it. I’m filled with so many questions I hardly know where to start. Why is it here? Did it follow me? Why won’t it stop staring at me?
The feline’s moonlit gaze drops to my knife and stays there for a long time before slowly rising back to mine. There’s a spark of intelligence in the animal’s eyes that has my chest tightening. It’s a cat, but… more. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there was an air of magic around the animal, but that doesn’t make sense.
Only the royals have magic.
The panther looks at me as if it knows I have no idea how to use Father’s knife, but how is that possible?
Then those silver eyes widen. A heartbeat later, a snarl rises—not from the panther, whose mouth remains shut—but from behind me. The deep, inhuman sound is far lower than anything I’ve ever heard, and it rattles me to my core. The water churns uncomfortably in my stomach as something rustles behind me.
At the same time, the panther slowly shakes its head back and forth as if confirming that it didn’t make that sound.
Unease sweeps over me, and I swallow past the growing lump in my throat as I adjust my grip on my weapon. I force myself to turn around and see what’s behind me.
A whimper slips from my throat before I can stop it, and I suck in a shaky breath. My Mark is burning again, embers embedded beneath my temple. Gods help me.
Why does this keep happening at the most inopportune of moments? A question for a later time. All I can do is focus on the massive beast looming in front of me.
“I… oh, suns.” The words escape me on a broken whisper as my neck cranes up, up, up to take in the creature before me.
It’s a bear… or at least, I think it is. It’s a little hard to tell because it’s so damn huge.
Once, Father and Markus took down a bear while hunting. That animal had been malnourished, and the two of them had still struggled to bring it home. It had fed us for a month.
The beast standing in front of me clearly has no problem feeding itself. It’s far larger than any bear I’ve ever seen, towering several feet above my head.
This is the kind of creature that nightmares are made of. Its thick brown fur is matted and lumpy. The bear’s fur isn’t as worrisome as the white, bubbling foam gathering at its mouth. I might not know much about this land, but I know enough about animals to realize that white foam is never good.
A feline snarl comes from behind me, and I glance at the panther. It’s pacing across the opposite riverbed, eying the black stones spread along the river. Is it thinking of crossing?
The bear rumbles, and I yank my gaze back to it. Looking away from a predator is stupid. I can’t make the same mistake again. Especially now that I’ve noticed the madness in the creature’s black eyes. Death is peering back at me, and my muscles tremble in the face of a true predator.
The bear roars and the sound echoes through the forest. A scream rips from my lips as the predator lifts a paw. Sharp black talons glisten in the light of the setting suns. I move back quickly, needing to put space between me and the bear.
Except, nothing is behind me.
My foot lands in water, the cold a shock through my thin stockings, and my eyes widen as my arms flail. A moment of sanity has me shoving Father’s knife into the sheath so I don’t cut myself, and another scream slips from my throat as I fall into the water fully clothed.
The bear lets out a mountain-shaking bellow.
A black streak seems to fly above the river, but then my back smacks something hard. Water fills my vision and my lungs.
The river swallows me whole, dragging me into its cold embrace.