Chapter 12
The bike rumbled beneath us, the engine a bare soft purr as I kept the throttle wide open. I had enough fuel to get us to Dakota and back by what Harrison had said. I’d taken my pack and weapons, just in case.
Rana clung to my back, her telepathy fully open between us, as she pressed her fingers into my side.
I can help you. I want to stay with you not go with someone else, even if there are kids. I can’t read minds, but I can talk like this to anyone I touch.
There was no point in answering out loud, the wind would pull my words away before she’d be able to catch them. I shook my head.
She held on tighter. If you’re really a Tracker, then that means something. Maybe you can stop the Necro King! No one knows where he is, that’s why he keeps on killing people.
As much as I appreciated her confidence in my abilities, there was the small problem of the enormous number of bleeders that he had at his disposal.
And that witch, Isla, she’s a bad witch. She’s not good at all, not like my mom…
The words that had been bouncing inside my head slowed, like water trickling into a dry desert. Used up, gone, and in its place her grief exploded.
Sobs wracked her tiny body and her hold around my middle intensified as her realization truly took hold and whatever fears she had about me taking her to Dakota were washed away underneath her reality. She had no one in this world, her mother and father were gone, and Isla was the root of it all.
Which meant keeping her close to Isla was the worst idea. If the witch would cut a competitor, drawing the bleeders, what would she do to a child who has seen the act happen? A child who could speak to her mind?
I didn’t dare slow, or give her comfort, not with the rutted road and unfamiliar terrain. As it was, it took all my concentration to keep us moving toward Dakota, following that connection to him and avoiding the holes and debris that littered our route.
Sorrow managed to keep nearly apace with us, occasionally swooping down as if reminding me that he was indeed still with me.
Rana was silent except for her shaking body.
The road smoothed and the sense I had of Dakota pulled me to the right, off the road. They weren’t far now. Part of me wondered just how they’d gotten this far north, so quickly with a big group.
Part of me wondered if I could slip Rana in without anyone else seeing me.
I grimaced as if I’d eaten a sour fruit, thinking about my reception.
Probably not great, which meant finding Dakota on his own, if I could—the others believed me cursed, and that was fair.
It was highly unlikely anyone but Dakota, and… maybe Avalyn…would be glad to see me.
I slowed the bike as the flickering of a fire in the distance caught my eye. I turned the engine off, and the quiet of the night curled around us, prickling at my skin. Movement around the fire, two large vehicles that looked like they could fit at least twenty people in each.
I didn’t remember there being vehicles of that size when I’d been with Dakota and Red’s group. Something was off.
“Are we there?” Rana whispered.
“No.” I looked up to the sky. “Sorrow, go see if it’s safe.”
He let out a gurgling caw and flew toward the fires, flying high and disappearing into the night sky. No one from the camp seemed to have heard the bike, no warning shouts came our way.
When I cocked my head and concentrated, I could pick up the distant murmur of voices, but no details.
I touched my ring on my left hand, spinning it as we waited for Sorrow to make his way back to us.
“Should we just go back to Harrison?” Rana tugged on my belt, but I didn’t take my eyes from the camp we watched.
“We’re just being cautious. Always make sure it’s safe before you make yourself known if you can.” Good advice, someone had given it to me and worth passing on to her.
Sorrow didn’t take long before he was back, landing on the front handlebar of the bike. He leaned forward and clacked his beak and leaned close, trying to whisper. “Not safe.”
Well shit. ‘Not safe’ could mean a lot of things in this world. “Off the bike.”
Rana did as I asked and I followed. There was nowhere to stash the bike, and it was too big for Rana to ride back to Harrison even if she could find the route. Fuck, this was turning into a mess, and I hated that Veyyr was likely right, and it had been a shit idea to take Rana.
“You will stay right where I put you,” I said. “Or when I am done with them, I will leave you on your own.”
Rana’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t. You’re a Tracker.”
I leaned close to her. “Try me.”
It was a good thing she couldn’t read minds, because she already suspected my bluff. Of course I wouldn’t leave her, but I had to be able to creep into the camp alone and not worry that she’d try and follow.
Stashing the kid and the bike in a bit of a hollow in the earth first, I dropped to a half crouch and started toward the camp.
Sorrow flew ahead again and landed on the back of the large transport truck closest to me as if he already knew that was where I was headed.
The big vehicle would make a perfect cover to see what was going on. What was ‘not safe’ as Sorrow had said.
Using the long grass as cover, I easily made it to the large truck without being spotted. It likely didn’t hurt that the camp seemed unguarded. Which was stupid.
Or…a trap?
Who were they trying to trap though? I dropped to my belly and crawled under the truck, staying in the shadows. The fire in the center of the camp burned bright, and far too high for the fuel it had—the logs were small, like a stack of twigs and the flames were easily ten feet high.
Magical fire of some sort. A word whispered through my mind. Witchfire.
But that wasn’t what drew my eyes or my nose. The scent of blood filled the air, torn intestines and marrow leaked from the broken bodies scattered across the ground. A massacre so deep it was hard to see how many bodies there actually were.
Not safe.
A twang across my chest, a distant ache as the terror in their faces registered—their last moments frozen into their blank eyes—a photograph no one wanted to see.
Fuck me. The smell of all that blood, how long before the bleeders showed up?
I shuffled forward and stopped as the feeling of a spell whispered just in front of me. Squinting, I stared at the space between me and the front end of the truck. The air was hazy where I squinted—a ward then to keep the smell from going far.
Whoever had done the killing, had done it well, and fast. Neither of the vehicles had even been started up.
I should have jumped up, ran and grabbed Rana and gotten the fuck out of there, but I held my position. Because Dakota was alive in there somewhere.
And I didn’t want to see that photograph in his face, in his eyes. For whatever it was worth, he was my first friend in this world.
Wait. Be sure.
The connection to Dakota was still there and now that I was closer, I knew he was injured.
Not bad enough to be dying but still hurt.
His signature told me he was to my left.
But still I waited, watching for the others that should have been here—the ones who’d done the killing.
There had been a murmur of voices, I was sure of it.
Where were they? Why hadn’t they taken the vehicles?
If it had been riftwolves or another monster they’d be feasting right now.
This massacre stank of the more human variety of monster. The magic leant its weight to it being someone like Isla. A witch or warlock then.
Or the Necro King? Shit. No, he wouldn’t care if there were bleeders.
A groan from my left and I nearly pushed off to go to Dakota.
Something held me still.
A soft, feminine laugh from my right stopped me.
I turned only my eyes to see her walk from the far side of the camp.
She came from the darkness like a star falling the wrong way.
Midnight cloak, hair sun bright blonde, her stride easy, her form petite, but lithe, muscled.
The dark blue cloak was scattered with stars, as if you stared at the night itself.
Her hood was pulled high so I could only see her mouth, as it curved into a smile.
A dagger was strapped to her hip and something about it…tugged at me. I shook it off. A witch for sure, the magic fucking radiated off her, the air around her going sharp and cold like a sudden winter’s ice storm.
“Here. I can heal you, Dakota.” Her voice was as soft as her laugh, accented lightly though I couldn’t place it as anything other than…other. It sounded warm though, and sincere, though that was strange considering her entrance that reeked of power and violence.
“The others,” Dakota groaned. “My friends…”
“About half of them escaped, I helped make sure of it, those I could heal, I did,” She walked past the large vehicle I lay under, her dark leather boots not taking on even an ounce of road dust.
“Why…who…I don’t understand. You…” Dakota coughed, whatever he might have said lost to the pain.
The midnight blue cloak swirled around her as she crouched next to him, the large front tire blocking my view except for the edge of her cloak.
“There are days that I don’t understand either.
But I trust my instincts, Dakota. And they brought me here, to you.
I was told you had a friend of mine with you, but… it was a mistake. She’s not here.”
He gasped; there was a flood of ozone and a crack of a bone being mended. “Thank you.” He grunted and then there was a scramble of boots, and he was running, dodging the bodies on the ground. Gone into the night and taking with him the one place I could have trusted Rana to be safe.
Who was I kidding?
Fuck, the kid was right, she was better off with me and…well, just me I supposed. At least for now.
“I don’t know…” The witch sighed, the whoosh of her cloak as she turned and the crunch of small pebbles under her hard soled boots.
I froze where I was. Who was she talking to?
“Oriona,” she said the name as if it pained her, cutting her tongue, “you demand much. I am here, you said that the Tracker would find me here and so I am here. And yet…do you see a Tracker? I do not!”
She spun, her arms outspread, her voice rising with each word, the cloak flaring as I lay there, unmoving.
Horror and cold chills rippled through my body, my muscles screaming with adrenaline. This witch was looking for me? Or just a Tracker?
“You are a stupid bitch!” She hissed and grabbed at her own head. “A stupid fucking bitch! I should have killed them all like I wanted, but no, you had to take over, you thought you knew better! What about what I want, what I know? I can help you end this, you stupid, weak willed, witch!”
Her feet scuffled back and forth across the sand as if she were fighting with someone but…there was no one else there. She grabbed at her own body, hissing and growling.
And then she tipped back her head, and let out a scream, piercing the night with her wail. I didn’t hesitate.
I used the cover of her scream, to back out from under the truck. To creep backwards through the long grass until the second her scream ceased.
I lay flat once more. The witch…she was dangerous and every part of my body recognized that no matter how skilled I might be, no matter how much immunity to magic I might have, that witch…would eat me for fucking lunch.
While my immunity gave me a leg up on most spell casters, in her presence it felt like a paper shield as a firestorm roared toward me.
That spear I took from the guard at Bone Town, fuck, why hadn’t I brought it with me? It could be the difference between surviving this moment and not.
Whether it was her power, or her obvious madness, or the combination of the two, I was not sticking around to find out why she wanted a Tracker. Why she wanted me.
Her scream ended and she drew a ragged breath. “What do you mean, someone is here?”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Fear danced through me, making my heart pound so loudly I wondered how she didn’t hear me and pinpoint my hiding spot.
There was no comfort from the voice of the woman who’d trained me, no moment of understanding.
Just straight up, ice cold fear rippling down my spine telling me that this one… this one was going to kill me.
I had to get away from her. If she wanted me, then she was not my friend.
From where I lay, I watched the witch step toward the edge of the firelight, looking out into the darkness, her hand lifted and the spell on it—one I recognized.
The colors swirled around her fingertips, orange, red, like tongues of flames.
Not good, this was not good.
“I could burn the grass.”
Don’t move.
“I could…” she whispered.
A screech from above, and Sorrow dropped. “Sorrow! Death!”
She looked up, following his winged form as he flew to the opposite side of the camp. Away from me.
He circled around, but she’d already lost interest in him as he landed once more on another transport truck.
I should have moved back further, yet I couldn’t seem to take my eyes from the scene, even now, even knowing that she was looking for me.
A sob rippled from the witch, loud, heaving as if her body were consumed with grief.
“I miss him, I miss him so much I just want him back in my arms…my Alex. And you…you want me to stop…you...hate him….” Her words trailed off with more sobbing as she fell to her knees, facing the fire. Her back blessedly to me.
Only then did I start to move, backing away, keeping my eyes locked on the sobbing witch.
I didn’t come out of the army crawl all the way back to where I’d left the kid, not once. With a cold sweat on my face, dirt and grass sticking to me, every muscle in my body aching from the slow controlled movement, I finally slid into the hollow where I’d left Rana.
I shimmied down until I was beside her and only then, did I let myself take a deeper breath. The little girl took my hand.
Not safe? What happened, I heard a scream. Are we going back to Harrison now?
Sorrow dropped down, hopped over to us and tucked himself under my chin.
I curled an arm around her, and one around Sorrow but didn’t dare speak. Because that witch had stirred something dark and terrifying in me—a knowledge that whoever I was, whatever being a Tracker meant, there were things more terrifying than bleeders, things more terrifying than monsters.
And I was lucky to have escaped the witch whose madness seemed to be in control of all the power she held.
The worst part?
Something about the witch tickled my mind, besides the fear, besides the certainty of how dangerous she was. The memory knifed up through the dark—her, that cloak, that dagger—standing over me as the world went dark and I fell into the earth.