Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
I’d been tracking a spirit all day. The clever beastie was made for stealth, outwitting me time and again. But I’d caught a glimpse of its blazing red tail, had almost grasped a handful of its flaming fur once before it had slipped through my fingers like a ghost. But at last, I had it cornered.
A great waterfall thundered down a rockface before me, the sheer walls reaching up far too steeply for even the Fox spirit to climb. That was my hope anyway.
I crouched in the long grass, legs cramping from how long I’d maintained the position, waiting for it to show itself. Surely it thought it’d lost me by now.
I was reminded of a time long ago, a hook of a memory catching in my brain, of me stalking my little brother in the grass, capturing him by the ankles and tickling him until he couldn’t breathe.
That image of me was like viewing another person through a faraway lens.
It was distorted, not marrying up with who I was now.
I didn't indulge in child’s play anymore.
Those desires had been gutted out of me, the hands of reality carving away the goodness I might have once claimed and leaving only rot behind.
I couldn’t deny how much I’d festered since.
I supposed when you lived long enough, eventually the bad things began to pile up.
One on top of the other until something so terrible came along that it cracked the mind and shattered the peace for good.
The raging falls concealed the sound of my approach as I crawled toward the spirit through the grass.
It was difficult to hear much beyond the crashing of the water, but every now and then I thought I caught the yells of a woman in the distance.
I didn't turn my head from the Fox, gaze fixed unwaveringly as I became nothing more than a hunter in the grass.
It may have been powerful, but it hadn't met the likes of me yet.
The Fox’s strength was great, the air alight with it, and I knew possessing it would put me in good stead for gaining more amulets.
There it waited for me, a thing of wild beauty, its fur a swirling storm of fire.
Flames of red, orange and gold fluttered from its body in an ever-fluid movement and embers spiralled upward, only to be recollected by the spirit’s eternal fire.
The power of this spirit thrummed in the atmosphere, clogging my lungs.
And it was still unawares of my presence.
Now was the time to seize it.
Just as I shifted forward, a scream cut through the air sharp enough to break through the roar of the waterfall, startling the Fox and making my head turn too, a growl rolling up my throat.
My spirit darted, rushing toward me, and I lunged to grab it with a curse, the movement clumsy in my distraction.
It leapt aside and darted past me in a whirl of fire, racing away through the grass in an instant.
I watched as it leapt between two trees, a flash of golden flames spilling away into the shadows. Then it was gone.
A snarl tore from my lips, and I turned my gaze in the direction that female scream had come from, back through the dark forest behind me.
I shoved to my feet and stalked toward the sound, unsheathing my dagger as frustration ripped through me.
“Your screams will be all the louder when I find you,” I bit out, the words muffled by the mask I had pulled up over my face.
I'd decided it was best to remain anonymous in this place so as not to draw attention to my presence.
I knew the hatred for me ran deep enough that the fair folk would likely unite against me if they learned of my presence here.
That didn’t mean I was playing coward. I planned to snatch as many amulets as possible from this forest, then show myself to my old kin and watch the smiles crumble from their faces. I'd once had a flair for the dramatic and it liked to rear its head occasionally.
It wasn’t difficult to follow the commotion, the sounds drawing me along the river which spilled away from the waterfall directly towards a lake where my screamer must have been.
I’d snap her neck – or I might make it slower if she was Fae.
Perhaps it would be Princess Drava herself, in dire need of assistance only to find the Fae she had summoned to her aid was a greater monster than the one she faced between these trees.
I made it to a clearing between two towering oaks, finding a human woman on her knees in a sludge of mud, shaking the arm of a dead-looking mortal man who had been ripped apart by some beast. Blood stained her body, her once-green dress more red and brown because of the muck.
There were plenty of body parts strewn around that spoke of recent carnage and I recognised Hollows among the gaunt faces of the dead.
The destruction was a familiar sight to my eyes, the violence these creatures could reap upon human and Fae alike was unlike any other.
I’d known the Hollows were here, chasing death between these trees, but I hadn’t witnessed their bloodshed until now.
Darkness settled over me, sinking into my bones and painting them black. This was the plague of Rathian, the one feared more than any other. Even more loathsome to its inhabitants than the bane of the cursed forest.
I regarded the woman who was yet to note my arrival. Her hair was long and brown, hanging around a face I couldn’t get a decent look at from this angle.
I whistled to catch her attention and she whipped around, causing me to cock my head and study her even closer.
She was an intriguing thing indeed. Her heart-shaped face held the beauty of Fae but without the perfection of my dull kind.
She had a wild look in her uniquely violet eyes that told of her mortality, and I could almost taste the fear on her, the uncertainty of the big bad world she found herself in.
But then she lifted her chin, rose to her feet and pointed a stick at me.
Not even a branch. It was even more breakable than she was.
Those eyes continued to blaze at me and I frowned at their brilliance, how they shone with a near-ethereal light.
I had only seen that colour once before in my many years of life.
In a place I’d had no right to enter. In the presence of a creature so mighty, it had undone the threads of my heart and broken me apart piece by piece.
I could have sworn I was standing before that very beast now, the spirit of Providence itself.
Intriguing indeed. How did a human girl go about possessing eyes the colour of fate itself?
“Who are you?” she demanded, and it was so forceful a command it made me bark a wicked laugh.
But the smile on my lips dropped to a flat and cruel line as I took a step toward her and she stumbled over a rock, falling onto her ass beneath me.
It felt good to have her there, and I revelled in glaring down at the useless little human who was still pointing a stick at me.
I was struck by her ferocity, the set of her jaw reminding me of the warriors of my family.
The keenness they had possessed for victory.
My gaze fell to her lips, the curve of them making my throat tighten and my fingers flex with the desire to touch her.
I could break her neck, that would be the quickest way to do it.
But I rather liked the thought of punishing her first. Slowly enough to hear her scream for me. Only for me this time.
I mulled over the answer to her question, uncertain why I’d decided to give one instead of killing her immediately.
“My name is Hendrix Draven, I hail from Mithelnore in Rivenspire,” I told her. “And who are you, little mud-dweller? A pig come to wallow in the dirt?”
I stepped toward her again and she shoved to her feet, stick still very much pointed at my heart. Was she planning to skewer me on a twig?
“I’m Ferris Creed,” she said firmly. “The people I was travelling with are dead.”
“Yes, I see that. Never mind, another few humans will be born this hour to replace them easily enough. Your kind breed like rabbits.”
I swept a hand out indicating the dead I was speaking about, my gaze tracking over them coldly, then halting on the faces of the deceased Fae.
I recognized one of them with a breath of amusement passing my lips.
Jarta Cageworth with his floppy brown hair and too-smiley mouth had been the type of male who had enjoyed watching his enemies get whipped until the flesh was flayed from their bones.
His casual jovialness had never married with the harsh cruelty he could so easily deliver to those who wronged him.
The crimes he named could be as little as a snigger in his direction. Spirits help the servants who had doggedly tried to please him. I supposed they were free of him now though and I was rather glad I’d never have to endure his haughty laughter again either.
The other Fae was unknown to me, more youthful than I was no doubt. Perhaps born after I had been run out of Rivenspire.
“You’re lucky to have survived the Hollows,” I commented. “Perhaps a flock of lightwings brushed you with their feathers moments before the attack.” I glanced around in amusement, as if looking for the small bird-like spirits which granted good fortune to those they came across.
“Lucky?” she snarled. “My friend is dead.” She gestured to the bloodied human man on the ground and I blandly offered him my attention.
“Unfortunate,” I said dryly.
“Fuck you,” she growled.
My eyebrows arched as I spotted an amulet on the ground near to the dead human, the image of the Bear carved into its surface. I dropped down, snatching it but finding a soft hand grabbing hold of mine, nails trying to tear into my skin.
I looked to the human in surprise and she released a yell then jammed her stick into my kidney. It snapped of course and I threw my forearm against her chest, knocking her to the ground from the force.
“That’s mine,” she spat.
I ignored her, the rush of seizing an amulet at last bringing a heady sensation with it. It shimmered like water, glittering as if sunlight lay upon a pool. The Bear was a powerful spirit, a true prize.
I placed it around my neck and as its weight settled against my chest, a rumbling sense of magic coursed through my blood.
It built like a thunderous river running through my veins and the Bear’s roar resounded through my skull like the crash of a raging waterfall.
The power was immense, the amulet trembling as if it could barely contain what lay within it, but it held.
The power of the amulets was as ancient as the sky, a force forged of nature itself and this forest and all its spirits could do nothing but bow to it.
My pretty little human lunged up from the mud again, reaching for the amulet but I grabbed her by the throat, stalling her in her tracks, easily lifting her feet from the ground. Her eyes widened and death drew closer, seeking to claim my prey.
“So breakable,” I commented, feeling her pulse thrash beneath my fingertips.
She didn't give up fighting, clawing at my arm and cursing me with strangled breaths.
She even swung for my mask to unveil my face to her, as if that would do anything at all to help her.
I was a cat with a bird between its paws.
One bite was all it would take to end this creature, but instead I decided to play with my food.
Though perhaps it was more than that, something holding me back, that fight in her igniting an ancient longing in my heart – though I couldn't put a name to it.
Movement to my right made my head whip around and a glint of large claws in the trees told of some spirit there.
But the moment my gaze fell on it, it shrank away into the shadows again.
I itched to follow, but dusk was already drawing in and a pursuit now might just spell the end for me.
A thought crossed my mind that made my fingers loosen on my captive’s throat.
Had a spirit come to investigate the human’s screams? Well, well. That could be useful…
I dropped my thrashing human girl and she landed heavily on her feet, almost falling again but righting herself at the last moment.
I caught her hand in mine, soft fingers snared tight between the roughness of my own.
“I’ve decided to let you live,” I announced, tugging her close and drowning in the stormy nature of those violet eyes of hers. They were like the ocean, a calm and rolling ride one moment, then a violent cyclone the next.
“For what purpose?” she hissed, trying to hide the fear in her eyes, but she knew I could have no decent intentions towards her.
“For company,” I deadpanned, and she glowered at me, trying to pull her hand free of mine but there was no doing that.
“Let go of me,” she demanded, starting to fight again, but her strikes were barely more than butterflies’ wings against my skin.
“I will not.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she snapped.
“I do not need to ask,” I said darkly and a little shudder ran through her shoulders, though she didn’t stop fighting.
“I will fight you every step of the way,” she hissed.
“Then fight. It means nothing to me.” I dragged her along, sending her feet stumbling over each other, but she stayed upright thanks to my grip.
“Your kind are the reason my friend is dead,” she snarled, her nails tearing at my hand around hers. “I despise you. For that and far more. I will never let you take me.”
I rounded on her, my gaze cold and unrelenting.
“You will follow me, lightwing, because it’s getting dark now, and you don't want to be left out here when the forest comes for you at dusk. Better to stay in my shadow because there is one thing the Taking Trees fear in this dark and harrowing world, and that’s me. ”
“I don’t fear you,” she hissed, the lie so apparent it was almost laughable.
I smiled beneath my mask, knowing she couldn’t see it, but her face paled all the same.
“Yes, you do. But not nearly enough. Because soon you will have no greater nightmare than me, Ferris Creed.”