Chapter 14
Fourteen
Fawn limped out of the forest with a giant pack on her back.
The others were crouched far back, out of sight. They were hidden so far away that they wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation. So Zax couldn’t smell them, Fawn had claimed. It was a sensible reason. No one would suspect her true intentions.
“Zax,” Fawn called again, tightening her grip on her pack straps. It was heavy, so heavy that Errol had offered to carry it no less than three times on the walk here. “I hoped I’d find you before you went into the mountains.”
Zax stared at her. Scarred, fanged, horned. He was truly something out of a nightmare. But Fawn couldn’t help but feel safe the closer she drew to him.
“What are you doing here?” Zax asked, bewildered. “You—you left. You did not want me.”
Fawn forced a smile. Her eyes were shining with tears; she couldn’t find a way to stop them. But now they were tears of hope, not regret.
She pulled her coat tighter around her and positioned herself squarely in front of him. She could imagine Errol’s infuriated muttering from back in the forest: What are you doing, woman? Move out of the way so we can take the shot!
“I thought I didn’t,” Fawn said honestly. “I was— Zax, I was fighting with myself. You have to understand, you’re a monster. You killed my husband, you kidnapped me!”
“I did not kidnap you,” Zax said, stricken. “I… I only…”
“Would you have let me go, if I asked? Or would you have tried to convince me that I was chosen for you, and that you would make me happy?”
Zax said nothing. His scarred shoulders slumped, his tail dragging on the ground.
“That’s what I thought,” Fawn whispered.
She stepped closer, watching Zax’s eye widen.
“I was so angry at you. Angry in a way I thought I couldn’t be anymore.
But the more time I spent with you, the more I realized I was only angry because a wife is supposed to be angry when someone kills her husband.
And I was actually angry about the way he treated me.
The way they all treat me, that entire damned town! ”
Fawn reached up to touch his face. They would have to suspect something, she reminded herself. This was no way for a terrified maiden to act toward her captor. But she couldn’t help it: she had to tell Zax everything she had been holding back.
“If you truly want to give me that life you talked about,” she began. “If you want to make me happy and have my heart in return… Zax, if you want to go on adventures together, and learn how to build an oven for me, and never think of me as a servant, I will go with you. I will go gladly.”
Zax breathed hard, his tail lashing in distress. “Why say this now? What changed your mind?”
Fawn grinned, her eyes still wet. “I did the thing I was meant to do. The thing any woman would be expected to do, given the circumstances: I ran. But then I returned to my life. And I realized how much I hated it, and how much I loved my life with you.”
She took his hand, the one that still had the freckle rock in it, and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. “Do you still want me, Zax? If you do, I’m yours. But I have to tell you something first.”
“What?”
“Bend down.”
Zax did. Fawn pulled him close, so her head was eclipsing his if somebody were to look from behind.
“They’re behind us,” she whispered. “In the forest. You need to get us out of here.”
Zax’s eye glowed brightly. “Is this a trick?”
“No,” she assured him. “No lies and no tricks. Take me and run.”
A malblossom-arrow whizzed through the air above their heads. Someone yelled from the tree line, “Now, boys, now!”
Zax shoved the freckle rock into his pocket and hauled Fawn into his arms. He began to turn toward the mountain, but Fawn stopped him.
“Wait,” she barked. “Keep me facing them! Run to the mountains!”
Zax faltered. The next arrow spun at them, and Fawn jerked her giant pack up to cover them both. The arrow sank into the pack, and Fawn yanked it out and snapped it in two, making sure to throw the blossoms away from Zax.
Errol came running out of the forest, the remaining two hunters at his side. Before Fawn could say anything, one of the hunters pulled an object out of his pack that Fawn had never seen before. It was shaped like a crossbow, but instead of a bolt, it had a malblossom net tied to the end.
He pulled the trigger. Zax ran, but the net was faster. It wrapped around his legs, and Zax bellowed as he hit the ground.
Fawn tumbled out of his arms. She braced herself for a wave of pain from her tender ankle, but nothing happened. She struggled up and positioned herself in front of Zax as the men ran up.
“Fawn,” Errol shouted. “What are you doing?”
Fawn ignored him and fished out a knife from her pocket. It was the vegetable knife he had given her this morning to slice radishes. She watched him recognize it, his eyes widening as he skidded to a stop in front of her.
The malblossom net was burning him. She wasn’t looking, but she could hear the horrible sizzle behind her, the acrid smell of burning flesh.
At least this one wouldn’t scar—it only scarred if it went very deep or was left for a long time.
And Fawn would not let him be stuck for a long time.
She was getting them out of here, right now.
Or at least as soon as Zax cut himself free. She could hear that, too—tiny snaps as he clawed through the rope, thankfully hidden behind her body.
“I’m going with him,” Fawn announced loudly. “And you are leaving us alone.”
One of the hunters raised his crossbow half-heartedly. Errol slapped at him, his upper lip curled.
“Not the crossbow, you’ll hit the girl,” he barked. He turned back to Fawn, his lips stretched in that awful condescending smile. “Fawn. What in the hells are you talking about?”
“We’re leaving together,” Fawn said, still brandishing the knife. “If he’ll still have me.”
Zax piped up from the ground. “I will!”
Fawn shushed him. She didn’t want them to notice he was cutting himself free with his claws.
Errol spluttered, his smile finally slipping to reveal the ugly frown beneath it. “What are you doing? Get out of the way so we can put an end to him!”
“No,” Fawn barked.
Errol stared at her in disbelief. “He ate your husband.”
“I never liked him much anyway,” Fawn admitted. She listened to another rope snap behind her. It wouldn’t be long now.
The hunters were looking at Zax too long for her liking. She had to distract them.
“Errol,” she snarled, so loud that all three men looked at her. She grinned at their gormless faces. “I never liked you either, you entitled little shit.”
This seemed to snap Errol out of his shocked stupor. He grabbed a crossbow out of the closest hunter’s hands and swung it in her direction.
Fawn stabbed him in the hand with her vegetable knife. He shrieked, dropping the crossbow.
The last piece of malblossom rope snapped. Zax surged up and grabbed Fawn, then sprinted for the mountain path.
One of the hunters piped up. “If she’s going to the forbidden mountain, I ain’t following.”
Errol ignored him, screaming, “You crazy bitch! We’re going to mount his skull on our wall!”
“I’ll fight you for him,” Fawn shouted back, clinging once more to her pack. “I’ll kill you myself if I have to! Leave us alone, or you will regret it.”
A malblossom-arrow flew past them, lodging in the rocky mountain face. Fawn held her pack up again, but Zax had her clutched to his chest and she couldn’t angle her pack as a shield this time.
Another arrow streaked toward them. It struck Zax in the back, and he stumbled. Another arrow struck him in the arm. He roared, clutching Fawn closer.
“Run,” Fawn demanded. “Zax, keep going!”
Zax growled. But he forced himself up and ran, legs pumping until the shouting faded away, the air turned cool, and there had not been any arrows shot their way in an age.
He found a small cave and crawled into it, collapsing to his stomach on the stone floor. Even in his pain and exhaustion, he still made sure Fawn was not hurt in the fall.
“Zax,” Fawn gasped. She crawled out of his arms, stowing her vegetable knife away in her dress pocket and dropping her pack so she could take his face in her hands. “Hells. I’ll fix you up, okay? I’ll—I’ll take care of this.”
She eyed his arrow wounds dubiously. She knew nothing about how to care for a Skullstalker, but she knew enough to get the arrows out.
And they were smoking from the malblossom; that meant they wouldn’t bleed so much, right?
But what if there was some left in the wound?
What if she ran out of the bandages she had stolen for her pack?
What if Errol and the others found them? What if—?
Zax touched her cheek, stilling her whirring thoughts.
“Fawn,” he said softly. “You came back.”
Fawn laughed wetly. She stroked his hand and leaned into his touch. “I did.”
“Will you stay?”
“As long as you’ll let me,” she whispered.
Zax smiled. His glowing eye flickered. Then he went limp.