Chapter 26
The wolf bolted into the trees, and I spun in a panic.
Everyone was alert and on their feet, reaching for weapons. Aric’s brows knitted as he listened. There were no further sounds, no rush of feet stampeding through the brush. After several strained seconds, he waved us off.
With no obvious threat upon us, Harthon’s focus moved to me, his expression warning of trouble.
I did just attempt to pet a wolf.
Preparing for a battle, I made my way over. Harthon didn’t say a word, though his jaw ticked. The effect was far more intimidating than him speaking his mind.
Aric, meanwhile, pinned me with an incredulous look.
He shook his head, like he was trying to shake my idiocy from his memory, and in low tones, explained, “Sound travels far here. That was either someone they’re actively hunting, or a poor fool who stumbled across them.
Let us hope for the latter.” He took a deep breath, revealing that he was just as affected by that as the rest of us.
“Every time someone ventures to this Territory and makes it back alive, we update our maps with whatever they’ve managed to find.
We’ll skirt around known encampments, but it’s no guarantee they haven’t moved.
For that reason, we move slowly, but steadily. ”
The chances we’d come up against at least one adversary were high, then.
“And while you should already know this, let me remind you. If any of us dies, the others will not spare time to bury them or collect the body. If you take issue with that, you can go back through that mountain pass now.”
His words had the effect of a rolling boulder, flattening any spirit we might have had remaining. The magnetic warmth in my chest pulling me deeper into this land reminded me this was still worth it.
When Harthon came behind me on the horse, his body was tense. “You do not seem to understand the importance of your health and safety, despite the fact that we just spoke on it this morning.” He spoke so quietly, I almost couldn’t make out his eerily calm words.
Twisting so that my lips touched his cheek, I whispered, “I was cautious. The wolf has shown me no signs of aggression, and I needed to know if there’s more to it. Some kind of connection.”
“I want you to explore that connection, but now is not the best time.” His hand snaked up to my jaw and tilted my head back.
His hold was tender, but his words were not.
“Aric already spoke with you, but let me be clear. If you do something reckless or dangerous here, I will not hesitate to stop you, whether you like it or not, whether it makes me an ass or not. Your safety matters more than your feelings.” A thumb brushed along my chin. “This is your warning.”
Anger and annoyance cascaded through me. I understood his reasoning. Harthon was a beast in battle, while I was hardly equipped to survive, nevermind protect myself here. But the way he said it prodded at all the wrong places.
“You’re already being an ass,” I informed him.
“I don’t like putting you in a cage, carella. But this is an extraordinary circumstance.”
I sucked in a breath to emphasize that this was only temporary.
A stern thumb pressed into my lips. “I cannot focus on keeping us safe if I need to worry about you,” he whispered, the confession softening his hard-edged commands.
Explanation or not, it was tempting to bite his thumb and show him exactly how his high-handed delivery felt. I found my maturity instead. Somewhat.
“I will do what’s needed to keep you at your best. But know that once we leave First, I’m going to rip into you for this.”
“That is something I look forward to.”
We would survive this trek into the Domus, if only so I could do just that. And train more, so I could effectively kick his ass.
Certain my eyes were now glowing, I wallowed in my annoyance as we moved, welcoming the way it drowned out my worry. Our pace slowed as time dragged, Aric stopping every few minutes to listen to the wind. Sometimes, it carried indistinguishable sounds, and others, it was uncomfortably quiet.
We reached the base of the mountain and delved into the valley, where naked trees blanketed the rugged ground.
The occasional bird flitted through the branches above, and a squirrel or two scurried over boulders and craigs.
Aric led us in a twisted route, circling wide, cutting across sparse slopes, and backtracking.
All the while, the pull in my chest felt right, like it was satisfied with our winding progress.
When a small stream appeared, we halted again. Aric’s shoulders stiffened as he angled his face toward the sky. The quiet wash of rustling branches was all that came over the wind.
Aric remained still, listening. I glanced around, searching for what spooked him. There was nothing here but dead land and that stream.
The stream.
One of my favorite places to trap food had always been the village stream. Animals tended to congregate around resources, like water.
Humans tended do the same.
Harthon freed a hand from the reins as Aric met his eyes, then we continued forward at a cautious crawl, the tension so thick, I feared it was a visible thing.
The wind gave nothing away, and neither did the land, a desolate tapestry of mottled tree trunks, brambles, and uneven ground spanning as far as the eye could see.
With every step, I expected an arrow to whiz through the air, or a camouflaged body to pounce from behind a rock or tree. Neither happened, and we made it to the banks of the shallow stream without incident. Crossing it was equally uneventful.
When we gathered on the other side, Aric pointed to the water and palmed his canteen. Stefano dismounted and collected our containers to fill them. He moved fast, as antsy as the rest of us, pacing the stream to find a spot deep enough for the water to run clear of sediment.
The snick of metal catching sliced through the air.
Stefano froze mid-step.
My heart barreled into my throat as I zeroed in on his boot. From atop the horse, I could see nothing but dirt.
Harthon lifted a palm, a silent order to stay put. He set the reins in my hand and slunk to the ground. Infinitely careful footsteps brought him behind Stefano. He crouched, and with painstaking care, brushed against the dirt beside Stefano’s boot.
The silver jaws of a metal trap revealed themselves. The same kind that’d taken my horse, only newer.
Skies.
Stefano was a statue as Harthon dusted off the trap.
Its circumference was big, its steel peaks like jagged teeth.
The moment Stefano released pressure, those teeth would snap into his leg.
If the trap malfunctioned, there was a small chance he could leap out of the way before it trapped him.
But that was no guarantee, and the price to pay was too high.
Harthon calmly returned to the horse to rustle through a saddle bag. There was no panic in his movements, just the confidence of a man who was in control. Some of my own panic eased.
He whispered something to Stefano who nodded, and returned to the trap at his foot. With a surgeon’s caution, he brought two small daggers to Stefano’s heel, and I realized he intended to jam the springs.
The blades would only hold for a second, if that.
A second was all Stefano needed. With practiced reflexes, he yanked his foot up and away. The slap of metal on metal an instant later was like thunder in the quiet wilderness.
They wasted no time celebrating.
Aric was already kicking his horse into a trot when Harthon landed behind me.
I didn’t spare the time to hand him the reins, steering the stallion forward.
This was no old trap, like the one in the mountains that took my horse.
Someone would be checking it. And when they saw the empty closed claws, they’d be searching for whatever it was that escaped.
Harthon nudged my hands, taking the reins.
We both knew I wasn’t skilled enough on horseback to maintain this speed while weaving through the terrain.
With my hands freed, I cast my focus to our surroundings.
The wide span of a bird’s wings caught my periphery.
It coasted almost casually on the wind, a black shadow against the clouded sky.
Some of the bands winding me tight released. The bird was a comforting sign. At that size, it made for a hearty meal. Like any animal, it would flee any predators. Maybe there wasn’t a horde of adversaries chasing us, after all.
For now, anyway.
The bird dipped into the tree line, skirting ahead of us. In a flurry of feathers, it abruptly stopped on a low tree branch—despite the six humans and five horses approaching it.
Like the wolf, it apparently didn’t fear us. Or, namely, me.
I was ready to dismiss it when it spread its wings wide, but remained on its perch. I squinted at the bird, then the ground beneath it, where a low patch of brambles sat.
Brambles that…weren’t sitting right. We were about to pass by them.
I grabbed the reins and yanked.
The stallion, to his credit, didn’t make a sound as he bucked. Harthon circled my waist and crushed me into him, somehow keeping us in the seat as we floated.
The horse landed and stilled.
Ahead, Aric and Conrad skidded to a stop, eyes wild as they glared at me.
Ignoring them, I nodded at the ground beneath the bird. Without the jarring movements of the horse, what I suspected became startlingly clear.
The edge of the knee-high patch was bent into unnatural shapes, stems broken, like something heavy had crushed it.
But there was no thick, fallen tree branch nearby. No clear animal tracks in the surrounding dirt.
I slid a hand to my dagger.
The bird took flight, disappearing into the sky. The wind stopped.
Lightning shot through my veins, and I drew my weapon.