Chapter 23
Mirielle couldn't stop looking up.
The trees were massive. Wooden giants larger than any tower in Ambersaith. Their trunks were as wide as houses, their crowns second in height only to the Sleeping Kings themselves.
They made her feel impossibly small. Her wonder fought her fear of it.
The forest enveloped her in its den of bark and needles.
The deeper they went, the more the sky above disappeared and the memory of it.
Sunlight reached the ground only in scattered shafts, pale and fleeting before being swallowed by the canopy above.
The snow the sky had left in memory seemed rejected by the forest itself.
Beneath the great trees the earth breathed warm.
The smell of wet soil and sap clung to fallen logs, hid under green ferns and rose from weeping creeks and puddles.
Life surrounded them. Birds had taken root high above in the pine boughs, insects and vermin sang their whispers through the day and night, only to be swallowed by the canopy above before it ever reached the sky.
They rode in silence over thick roots and small creeks. Even the horses seemed tiny under the great trees. Mirielle had grown quieter with every mile. Reis could feel her tension across her shoulders, her spine more rigid, her breathing quieted.
He tightened his grip on her waist only slightly.
By the time the sun began to set, Mirielle had shrunk far into Reis. Her eyes darted at the canopy above, the shadows between woods, the dark hollows beneath fallen logs, all the corners the light couldn't reach.
Reis watched too, his gaze constantly scanning the shadows. Looking for the absences like a man who had spent decades surviving places exactly like this one.
Suddenly Hank stopped, Winter followed and then Maisey. They refused to move, ears pinned flat against their heads. Hank snorted a warning.
Then the sounds died and the forest stilled.
Dane drew his sword. "Something's wrong."
Reis heard them before he saw them. The low snarl of beasts across the clearing. Then he saw the shadow, the shape of a large dog silhouetted between two trees.
More began to appear, crawling out of shadows. Snarls followed them as they bristled at the edges of the clearing. Watching—waiting for them to make a mistake.
Kellan pulled something small and shiny from his pocket. It soared across the clearing and struck one square in the face. It didn't even flinch.
"Well, that's concerning."
"They're needle hounds." Reis's voice was low.
One of them stalked forward, suddenly illuminated by the last rays of sunlight.
It was like a dog, only different. Much larger, longer somehow and skinny like its body never received enough food.
Its back was hunched too high above its head, its joints bent a fraction too far.
Every movement seemed slightly disjointed, like its limbs didn't quite connect the way they should to its body.
Its hide was not made of skin but of something more brittle.
Something like bark layered over joints.
Needles seemed to replace where fur should be. Thousands protruded from its back, shoulders and haunches. They shifted and rattled when it moved, brushing against each other like pine boughs in the wind.
The head was the worst part. It was shaped like a wolf, only its grin seemed longer, unnaturally deep. Its teeth were made of jagged stone, cracked and bent back, meant to snare its prey before tearing it apart.
And its eyes—they were milky white, soulless and ravenous and empty.
Reis quickly dismounted. His boots hit the forest floor, crunching needles below him.
Mirielle barely had time to react before he pulled her from her seat. A nearby fallen giant lay half-consumed by moss and ferns. The hollow beneath its trunk formed a narrow shelter, just large enough to hide inside.
Reis practically shoved her into it.
"Stay here." His tone left no room for argument.
A second later, Lettie was next to her.
Darkness enveloped Mirielle. Her panic began to rise. Her breaths quickened. She could hear movement, boots on the ground, the low snarls of beasts somewhere in the distance, the nervous shifting of horses.
She could feel the Earth pressing around her, the darkness invading her.
Her breath shortened. In. Out. She tried and failed to breathe as the darkness pressed down on her lungs, stealing her air. Her power thrashed against her, offended by the dark. She used every intact part of her sanity to shove it away.
"Dane!" She heard Reis call. "Stay with the girls."
"Aye."
He moved. Mirielle heard his boots crunching closer. He positioned himself in front of their hollow, short sword drawn, senses sharp as his blade.
The hounds didn't attack at first. They growled and barked—taunting, begging the weakest to flee. Mirielle could hear it all from the dark. Each sound reverberated terror through her. Each sound warned her to run.
Mirielle's fingers dug into the ground beneath her as she tried to hold herself in place. She tried to push away the dark, her fingers scratching at fallen bark and rough stones.
Her power rose to meet her panic and she shoved it down again.
They shifted in groups, looking for gaps, for weaknesses. They moved in synchronicity, organized like a pack—a ruthless dance designed to hunt, to lure the weakest away.
Then they lunged.
Reis met the largest hound head-on. He cut it across the chest.
Not deep enough.
Despite what should be a fatal wound, it kept coming. He twisted and struck again. His blade cut clean through its neck and it fell in a thud at his feet.
There was no blood, no heartbeat for him to command. His only weapon was steel but he didn't hesitate. He moved to the next anyway.
Another group of hounds lunged for Lettie.
"DANE!"
Dane was already moving. He crashed into the nearest hound. His sword met bark and nearly split the creature in half. It fell in a heap on the ground. It writhed, but it was still moving as it scraped its claws against dirt, trying to crawl.
"They don't die right!" he shouted. Panic laced through his voice.
Kellan intercepted the other. He was fast. He plunged a knife into its right eye, sinking into splintered wood. It hardly noticed, but Kellan didn't let go. He held his knife, locking the great beast in place, his grip like a vise against the sheer enormity of it.
Then Dane was there. He brought his sword down across its midsection like a fallen tree.
CRACK
It fell to the ground in a thud. Its jaws bit and snapped wildly even though its body was felled.
Kellan pierced it with another knife and yanked it away from Lettie.
Then Dane drove his sword through its head.
The hound convulsed and then finally it stilled.
Its massive body nearly blocking the entrance to the hollow.
"Fire!" Reis barked from somewhere above Mirielle.
Kellan didn't hesitate. He grabbed a lantern off Tempest and threw it.
It crashed into a group near them, glass shattered and oil flew over the ground. Flames erupted, devouring two of the beasts along with it.
Finally, the hounds reacted. The flames engulfed the first hound. It shrieked a terrible, haunting, almost human scream. It tried to run from its ruin but it made it only a few paces before crashing into the ground in a burning, spitting heap.
The rest of the hounds yipped and snarled. The smell of burning sap filled the clearing. Then, as quickly as they came, they vanished into the forest, leaving their fallen behind and disappearing between the black trunks with angry snarls and pained cries.
"Lettie!" Panic cracked through Kellan's voice as he ran to the fallen tree.
"I'm fine." Lettie's voice was shaking, but she tried to hide it. She crawled out from her hiding spot and brushed the dirt off her skirt. "I'm fine."
The moment Kellan saw that she wasn't bleeding, the terror drained from his face.
Reis immediately went for Mirielle. He crouched next to the hollow and frowned.
Mirielle wasn't moving. She was curled into a ball on the damp earth, wedged in a hollow beneath the wet log like she had made herself as small as possible. She was barely breathing, her breaths were coming in short pants. Reis could hear her heartbeat, frantic and skipping.
"Mirielle."
She didn't respond. She showed no sign of registering his voice.
"Mirielle."
Nothing.
"I'm here." He reached for her.
The moment he touched her, her entire body reacted violently.
Mirielle screamed. The sound tore through the clearing. It was the kind of scream that only came from the deepest, darkest part of someone's soul, the part so clouded by terror and fear that no light could come from it. Everyone's attention immediately snapped to her.
She twisted against him. Her hands lashed against his chest, his neck, his face as he pulled her towards him. She tried to twist and kick away from him.
"No!"
Reis grabbed her hands before she could hurt herself. Her entire body locked as her hands were bound together by his.
"Please don't," she cried weakly.
Reis went completely rigid. His grey eyes searched hers. For a heartbeat, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
"Mirielle."
She flinched. Tears streamed down her face.
"Please don't," she whispered again.
Something about the terror in her voice cut him where no blade ever could. She wasn't afraid of the hounds. She was afraid of him.
Or rather—
She was afraid of whomever she thought he was.
Reis looked at the darkness beneath the hollow and realization rushed him like an angry tide. Suddenly he remembered Dane's words.
'She slept better with the light.'
At the time, he had hardly paid attention to it. Just a passing comment, a simple observation, maybe a childish fear. Nothing serious.
Another memory surfaced. He remembered that first night at the tavern. The way she ran into his arms and clung to him. The way she begged someone to open her door that night she fled her room.
Her dark room.
Not because she was lost. Because she couldn't bear the darkness.
And he had laughed at her.
"No." His voice dropped low and cracked. How had he missed it? How many signs had he dismissed? The way she shrank into him when the sun fell. The way her attention always seemed to find shadows.
She started to thrash against him again. He pinned her against his chest—she couldn't run now, not when there was danger nearby. And she wasn't running from him. She was somewhere else, somewhere far away from him.
"No, Mirielle."
She fought him again, weaker this time. She was trying to pull herself from his grip, her strength already failing. She let out a hopeless cry as she tried and failed to twist away from him.
She was still barely breathing. Her heart was pounding against her chest, frantic in its choppy rhythm. Too fast.
Reis leaned her against his chest and placed his hand on her back. He urged her heart to calm. For a moment it seemed to slow, but her panic gripped it again, sending it stumbling against her ribs. He released it immediately, afraid he would strain it more.
Around them, the clearing had gone silent. Kellan stood frozen next to Lettie, one arm still around her.
Dane's expression had gone hard. Her cries pierced him in waves. He stood over them, head bowed, shadows invading his face. His sword still in hand as his instinct screamed there was still more to conquer.
He had suspected something. He hadn't expected this. Nobody should sound this afraid.
"No one is going to hurt you." Reis held her carefully against his chest despite her struggles.
She was shaking, not a slight tremble, violent shaking that ran through her entire body. Tears made angry streaks down her face. Her eyes were still fixed on some point in the distance.
"Mirielle," Reis urged her back. "I'm here."
Then, slowly, her shoulders began to relax. She stopped pushing against him. The fight had gone out of her.
"Reis?" Her voice was small and fractured, like it belonged to a frightened child and not her.
"I'm here," he responded instantly.
She collapsed into him. Relief rushed her all at once. She buried her face in his chest and began to cry, exhausted, helpless sobs, the kind that dragged years deep. Her fingers twisted into his cloak as if she feared he might disappear if she let go.
Reis closed his eyes as he started to breathe again.
She felt something warm in her hair. She didn't understand it at first. Then she looked up and saw the marks she had left. Thin crimson lines trailed down his neck. A deeper bleeding scratch on his face.
She tensed again and looked away. "I'm sorry." The words were immediate, too quick. Her body trembled so violently it shook her voice. "I'm sorry."
Lettie's eyes filled with tears and she covered her mouth with her glove. Dane looked away to hide his anger from her vision.
"Don't." Reis's voice was shaking too. He looked over her body. No blood. No wounds. Only a beautiful woman who had been taught to apologize for her fear. Heavy anger stirred inside him, anger at whoever made her this way.
"Mirielle."
"I'm sorry." She gave a whispered cry.
Reis's jaw tightened.
"Look at me."
Slowly, she did. Her eyes were red-rimmed and terrified. Full of fear for whatever punishment she thought came next.
Reis softened the moment he saw it.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
Another violent tremble wracked her body, but her eyes stayed fixed on him.
"You did exactly what I told you to do."
Another tear escaped her.
"You're alive and safe and that is what I care about."
For a long time, Reis held her, patiently waiting for her trembles to subside.
The last of the flames died out behind them. Dead hounds lay scattered across the forest floor, black silhouettes against the dying firelight. The forest watched silently from beyond. Ancient and patient and hungry, waiting for them to make a mistake.
Dane walked to the packs, grabbed a new lamp and lit it.