Chapter 1 #2
It is. Even collared and chained, there’s something about it. The height, the strange coloring, the spread of bone rising from its head. This is what I’ll be hunting. This is the trophy I will bring home to my father.
My heart beats faster. I want to move closer, examine it, but at the same time, everything inside me is screaming to back away, keep my distance.
“Are you ready?” Huntmaster Cowen asks.
I nod, and we head back toward the lodge.
There are two men waiting near the hearth when we walk back inside, and Cowen introduces them as Aldric and Tommas. Our guides for the hunt. They explain the rules of the preserve while I try not to fidget.
“Once we release the quarry, it gets a small head start. It wouldn’t be much of a hunt if you caught it five minutes after riding out. It can move anywhere within the warded grounds, but cannot cross the boundary. Nothing collared can cross it.”
“The collar keeps it weak?” Brennan asks.
“It drains the magic right out of them. They can run. They can fight, if cornered, but they can’t do any of the things that make them dangerous.
” It’s Tommas who answers. “They’re still fast and strong, though, so don’t let your guard down.
And like any wild beast, if it sees an opportunity, it will attack. ”
“What if we get separated?” I ask.
“Stay where you are.” Tommas meets my eyes. “We will find you.”
One of the Dell’s men brings me a bow and a quiver of iron-tipped arrows. The bow is well-made, with a smooth draw and good balance. There are fifteen arrows in the quiver.
Through the window, I watch the handlers lead the fae toward the tree line.
Even from here, I can see how it moves. Its steps are fluid and unhurried.
One of the handlers hooks a metal pole to the collar, forcing the fae to its knees.
It goes down without resistance, yet still seems graceful.
The second handler removes the chains on its wrists and ankles.
They both step back, and then the pole releases.
The fae doesn’t run. It rises, rolls its shoulders once, and without looking back, it walks into the forest.
“I’m surprised it didn’t attack its handlers,” Nella says.
“The fae was pushed inside the warded area, while the men remained outside. It couldn’t attack without causing itself a lot of pain,” Cowen explains. “Why don’t we go get you mounted up and ready to start.”
We’re led outside, and I’m directed to a gray mare with a white mane, while Nella gets a smaller brown gelding. She grips the reins tightly as she settles into the saddle.
“You don’t have to come. You could wait here where it’s warm. I know you don’t enjoy the hunts.”
“And miss this?” She tries to smile, but her lips tremble. “I’d never forgive myself for not being a part of your birthday.”
I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Stay close to me.”
We ride toward the tree line, with Aldric and Tommas in the lead, then me and Nella.
Brennan and Wil bring up the rear. The trees close around us, and the canopy blocks out the sky, leaving us in green-tinged twilight.
Our horses' hooves fall soft on the carpet of dead leaves, the sound swallowed almost as soon as it’s made.
Every sense seems sharpened—the creak of leather, the whisper of branches, the way shadows shift between the huge trunks. Somewhere far off, water drips. A branch sways overhead, even though there’s no wind.
Anticipation of the hunt ahead sings through me, every nerve ending alive and ready.
Aldric reads the ground, stopping to examine broken branches and scuffed earth. Once, he crouches beside a muddy depression and gestures for me to look. There’s a footprint there, almost human-like. The sight of it sends a thrill down my spine.
We follow the trail deeper into the wood. The path weaves through dense undergrowth, crosses streams, and doubles back on itself twice. Aldric loses the trail and has to cast around in widening circles before picking it up again.
I don’t mind. I’m in no rush, and I’m savoring every second.
“We’re close now,” Tommas says after maybe two hours. “Very close.”
The tracks lead us down into a shallow ravine and disappear into a rocky streambed. We dismount and pick our way slowly, guiding the horses over slick stones. The water is barely a trickle, but the rocks are treacherous with moss.
Aldric moves upstream, gesturing for us to remount and wait. I’m still adjusting my balance in the saddle when my horse’s head snaps up, ears flat and nostrils flaring.
Then she bolts.
The reins tear free of my fingers. I throw myself forward and grab for her mane, clinging to her neck as she scrambles up the opposite slope.
Branches whip past my face, the world turning into a blur of green and brown.
I lunge for the reins and finally catch them, but she doesn’t slow.
Whatever she sensed has her beyond reason, running blindly through the undergrowth.
All I can do is hold on.
She runs until her sides heave and her legs shake.
Then she stops, head hanging, flanks dark with sweat.
I slide from her back on trembling legs, reach for my bow, and scan the trees, trying to calm my breathing.
The forest has gone utterly still around me, the only sound is my heartbeat thundering in my ears, and the soft huff of my horse’s breath.
Stay where you are. That’s what Tommas said. They’ll find me.
“Brennan!” My voice echoes through the trees and fades without answer. “Wil! Nella!”
Nothing.
I call again and again, turning in a slow circle, straining to hear hoofbeats or voices—anything at all. The forest gives me nothing back.
Then …
A branch cracks somewhere to my left. My horse throws her head up, the whites of her eyes showing, and I spin toward the sound, heart lurching, hand going to my quiver.
I can’t see anything, but that wasn’t a bird or a squirrel. It was heavy enough to snap wood. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.
I should keep waiting. I should stay here until the Dell’s guides find me, the way they said they would.
Instead, I nock an arrow and move toward the sound.