CHAPTER 8 #2
“So, west.” Anama’s voice was strong and confident. “We go west.”
Something thunked against the top of my head and I whipped my gaze heavenward to stare at a low-hanging branch above my head.
“What’s wrong?” Lana asked, concern dipping her brows.
“Acorn.” I pointed to the cluster of massive nuts hanging from the boughs of an old oak. “Be careful.”
Lana took a purposeful step away from the tree.
I stepped away from it too, scanning the compass in my hand. “West it is.” I rotated on the spot until the dial faced the right direction. And then we walked.
I tried to keep track of the passing hours whenever a copse of trees gave way to reveal a slice of sky ahead, but I knew the sun was sinking below the horizon when the bright light faded to pale dusk.
Tree trunks, whitewashed from the day, pressed in on us.
The sight of them made me feel nauseated and claustrophobic, like a rat trapped in a maze, desperately trying to find the way out.
The pangs of hunger began, and I was sure everyone else felt the same, yet no one complained. I did not bother covering my yawn when it ripped from my throat.
Lana gave me a sidelong glance, dark smudges back beneath her eyes and more prominent than ever. “Bet you’re regretting camping out in my room all night instead of counting sheep.”
I gave a lifeless chuckle. Each step felt like I was walking on knives. “I’d give up my mother’s secret stew recipe right now to go back in time and enjoy a good night’s sleep.”
“Woah. If you’re giving up a prized recipe, it should be for more than just sleep,” Moric said from where he led our group. I had handed over compass duty earlier, and he seemed grateful for the job. I had to admit, taking point on direction was an excellent distraction from the hunger.
“What would you give it up for, then?” I asked.
Moric didn’t hesitate. “Another day with my family.”
A pang, worse than the combined hunger and sleep deprivation, strummed at my heart.
Trailing behind Lana and me, Anama said, “I’d give it up to eat a bowl of shellfish soup and hot bread on one of Kraventhorn’s sandy beaches.
I adore the ocean. I used to spend every single minute I wasn’t working at the library exploring the tide pools and sea caves and, occasionally, cliff diving. ”
Anama? Cliff diving? That was surprising.
She did not miss the look that flickered between us all. “I know. It’s a lot more adventurous than reading dusty old books for a living, but I really enjoyed it.”
“Anama, you’re a closeted adrenaline junkie,” Lana whispered like it was a secret.
I laughed, nodding in agreement. “Who would have thought sweet and quiet Anama spent her weekends jumping off cliffs for sport?”
Anama rolled her eyes, the gray streaks in her tawny hair shining gunmetal in the moonlight. I only realized then that dusk had turned to nightfall. Leaves rustled overhead, and an occasional bird squawked. I did not allow myself to ponder what else might be lurking in the branches above.
“What about you, Lana? What would you give my mother’s secret stew recipe up for?” I asked in a feeble attempt to distract myself from the gnawing fear.
Lana, gods bless her, played along. “I don’t want to say.”
Even Moric turned to look at her.
“What?” She blushed crimson. “If I’m being truthful, it’s not nearly as dutiful as wanting to see my family, or as wholesome as enjoying a hot meal in my favorite place.”
“Come on, Lana Banana,” Moric teased. “We all went. It’s your turn.”
“Gods, these nicknames get progressively worse each day,” she muttered. “But fine, since we’re all out here and might die at any second if a panthera comes shooting out the trees… I’d give up the recipe for one night of casual, no strings attached sex with Septimus.”
I choked on my spit.
Anama’s eyes bulged in their sockets.
A slow, cocky grin stretched along Moric’s face. “I. Knew. It.”
Lana gave him the middle finger.
“You know you’ve just signed yourself up for endless teasing,” I told her. “He’s never going to let this one go.”
Lana stuck her tongue out at Moric, who was still smirking gleefully. “Wanting something and actually having it are two completely different things. Septimus is elven. We hate them.”
I pressed my lips together in a thin line as thoughts of Kilian – naked, save for a towel – flitted across my mind like a butterfly.
He was elven too. We did hate them. We most certainly did not daydream of towels slipping and cuirasses coming undone.
And we definitely did not wonder what those full lips tasted like.
“I hear hate-sex does wonders for the skin,” Moric chirped, sounding infinitely more alert than he had a few minutes ago. His mind was most likely whirring with an endless stream of taunts.
The look Lana gave him was pure daggers. She opened her mouth to retort, then snapped it shut.
“What?” Moric chortled. “Septimus got your tongue?”
“Shh.” Lana pressed a finger to her lips. “Can you hear that?”
“All I hear is the sound of your panties dropping for a certain golden-eyed elven,” Moric sang.
“I’m being serious. Shut up and listen.”
We all stilled, coming to a stop. I glanced around, then murmured, “Is it me or are the trees thinning?”
“I think we’re coming to a clearing.” Anama squinted through the darkness. “I can see something up ahead.”
“Maybe it’s the caves.” Relief washed over me. We would have a place to rest for the night, somewhere moderately safe to sit and take our shoes off. My toes were scrunched painfully in my boots.
We walked with renewed vigor, only the moonlight glinting off the trees and the promise of a clearing up ahead guiding us. And as we grew closer to the glade, trees branching off to scatter in distant clumps, I heard what Lana had:
The rhythmic gurgling of water flowing over rock, splashing and bubbling as it wended downstream.
There were no caves. Only a grassy bank that gave way to a wide, curving river.
Anama fell to the ground beside me, her knees hitting the grass with a thud.
We had trekked west, but found the river. We had gone the wrong way. The caves were to the east. My stomach sank to my feet, disappointment stinging my chest.
Lana’s hand was half-raised to her mouth, her gaze locked on the river. And Moric, compass hanging limply from his hand, was speechless.
Anama pulled out the map, scanning it in the silvery moonlight. “This can’t be. I don’t understand. The sun rises in the west.”
I crouched down beside her and laid my hand atop hers. Her fingers were icy cold. “It’s okay. We’ll go back.”
A tear dripped from her face and onto the map. “I said we should go west. This is my fault.”
“Hey.” Lana shook her head. “It’s no one’s fault. We were stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere. We all knew there was a fifty-fifty chance we were going the wrong way.”
“No, it’s my fault. My fault,” Anama muttered, shaking her head. She wasn’t listening to us. She got up and began pacing alongside the river. “What if we go around? There’s a trail on the map, leading northeast, around the forest. Maybe we can cut–”
I heard the sound before my brain registered what I could see. A faint whizzing and then a wet thump as a spike flew through the air with deadly precision, and landed in Anama’s shoulder.
Lana screamed, a bloodcurdling, high-pitched sound that shocked me into movement. I launched forward, gripping Anama before she could topple over into the river.
The river.