Chapter 20 #2
A strong gust blasts through the scattered trees, ripping dozens of leaves from their branches while redirecting the knife in what should be an impossible curve back toward the Sol. The blade strikes true this time, burrowing into the creature’s singed neck.
Golden blood spurts from the wound. The Sol falls.
Kalden lunges atop it and restrains its flailing arms before removing the knife, only to drag the blade in a deep line across the entire front half of its throat. Then, with a grunt, he plunges the weapon into the Sol’s chest, down to the hilt.
“Holy shadows!” Gem curses between panted breaths as we chase the other two Sols, who continue their pursuit of our comrades without faltering, either not noticing or not caring that their kin has fallen.
Kalden’s brutal killing cost him distance. And although he outpaces Gem and me, he isn’t fast enough to block the furthest Sol from catching up to the first Huntress.
“Dodge!” I scream as the creature’s taloned fingertips lash out toward her shoulder. It’s the same command Kalden shouted during the countless drills he made the group run through.
Thankfully, the muscle memory pays off. She bends at the waist and shuffles to the side, exactly as practiced. The Sol trips, not expecting her swift evasion, but recovers quickly. In a blur, it twists, preparing to strike again.
The woman rolls forward, and its clawed nails sink into the dirt instead.
Before it can finish pivoting, her friend swipes her dagger into its side.
The creature hisses and shoots out a hand, clenching the second Huntress’s wrist. It twists its grip, snapping bone like it’s little more than a pliable twig.
She bellows deep—a sound that will haunt me forever.
If he weren’t distracted by his own face-off with the other Sol, maybe Kalden could prevent what happens next.
The creature pins the woman to the ground.
“Orelle, don’t!” Gem cries as I run faster, only a handful of feet away now.
But I’m no Kalden. My vision falters, tunnels. I stumble.
Beneath the Sol, my fallen comrade’s roar turns gargled as I throw my hands forward, harnessing the vibrating energy in my palms. I wrap my fingers around the creature’s sinewy leg.
The tips of my nightstone blades cut into its flesh.
It howls, flinching away, but I refuse to loosen my grip.
I clench harder and finally release the burgeoning energy.
Invisible flames erupt beneath my skin, licking through my veins and into my palms, burning me from the inside out, forging my body into something new: a weapon.
Someone screams Yvonne’s name, yet my focus is on the excruciating ecstasy that’s more pleasure than pain.
And when I release all the scorching heat into the monstrous creature, I nearly whimper in relief.
A tremor ravages through the Sol’s charred body. Its arms and knees buckle, and it collapses face first into its pinned prey.
“Yvonne!” someone shouts again.
The Sol’s body falls still for only a moment before it sluggishly lifts its head and peers deeply into the lens of Yvonne’s unmoving helmet.
With blood streaming down the blades of my cuff, which is still embedded in the charred leg, I gather the energy into my palm again.
I need more power than before. I flip my left hand over and expose the slit in my glove to the sky, absorbing every bit of buzzing heat I can muster into my right hand.
I feel the tingling warmth draining from the tips of the fingers on my left hand, then my toes, pulsing with every heartbeat down through my right arm until an unfamiliar pressure builds at my fingertips.
The heat culminates in my palm, bringing with it subtle vibrations like bolts of lightning racing down my wrist.
This has to be enough.
“Don’t!” Kalden shouts, though his words soften as they bounce across the sand.
Before I can release the focused energy, the Sol rears its impaled leg back, dragging me several inches closer to itself before snapping its gnarled foot back into my poised jaw.
My blades unlatch from the Sol’s leg as I slide against the sandy dirt until the back of my helmet collides against an unforgiving boulder, splattering starry flecks across my vision.
The solar flare must’ve dazed the creature—otherwise, that kick likely wouldn’t have ended with me conscious.
Or breathing. I concentrate on realigning the hazy image of the Sol while I scramble to regain my footing, reform the energy, and reach Yvonne before it’s too late.
As I attempt to climb onto my knees, a pointed blade embeds into the Sol’s neck. The creature collapses again on top of Yvonne, this time with finality. Its furled fingers twitch for a few more seconds before going still.
It takes several seconds to reel the surging power back in.
Gem slides her poniard out of the creature. Shimmering gold droplets spill off the blade onto the trampled ground as she rushes over to extend a hand towards me. “Are you okay?”
I ignore it, not wanting to accidentally torch her with the heat still vibrating within my palms, and slowly push myself to my feet. “I’m fi—”
“Mentally, not physically,” she clarifies, whacking my shoulder. “What in the sun’s fiery furnace was that? Why would you throw yourself at a Sol?”
“I had to do something,” I say with a shrug.
“Demi?”
The strained whisper comes from beneath the Sol’s corpse, sparing me from Gem’s interrogation—for now, at least. My neck prickles from what I suspect is her bewildered glare that tells me she’ll have plenty of questions for me later.
Gem and I step towards the Sol once more, both of us more timidly than when the creature was alive. As Kalden and Demi reach us, we make room for them to roll the lifeless shell off Yvonne.
A small spark rhythmically jumps from the band encompassing the Sol’s neck. Another collar? A buzz ruminates from the spot where Gem’s blade pierced the edge of the bloodstained metallic strap.
“Demi?” Yvonne calls again, voice fainter and crackling now.
My attention returns to the death rattle of the next victim of the Hunt. Crimson flows steadily from the six punctures encircling her heart.
Demi crumples forward, choking on a sob. “Von?”
Yvonne huffs a weak, breathy laugh. “That bad, huh?”
Kalden kneels on Yvonne’s opposite side, tugging a square cloth from his knapsack. Tone softening with a rare tenderness, he asks, “May I?”
Yvonne’s helmet tilts down a fraction of an inch. Taking that as a nod, Kalden leans forward to cover Yvonne’s gushing wounds, then pushes his palm into her chest.
Yvonne winces, and Demi snaps, “What are you doing?”
“Applying pressure to compress the surrounding blood vessels and staunch the bleeding,” Kalden states matter-of-factly, like he’s done this before. He probably has, if his scars are any indication.
The magnetic tug on my senses heightens. A hazy golden aura pulses above Kalden’s gloved fingers, then disappears as soon as I blink.
What was that?
I step forward, waiting for Yvonne to flinch away from the flash of hot magic, but the sigh that escapes her is more akin to relief than agony. My eyes dart over to Demi and Gem, yet neither reacts. Was I the only one who saw that?
A minute passes. Then two.
Yvonne’s lungs rise and fall more steadily now, and her voice is clearer as she asks, “So, are we just gonna wait around for another attack, or . . . ?”
Kalden releases the pressure, allowing Yvonne to scoot herself onto her elbows.
“Don’t!” Demi tries to shove her back to the ground, but Yvonne shoos her off.
“Stop fussing.” She crunches forward into a sitting position and groans in disgust while glancing down at herself.
Leftover gore from the Sol’s severed artery mixes with her own sticky blood coating most of her chest and midsection.
Using the soiled cloth, Yvonne takes care to swipe gently across the torn leather and flesh.
Demi goes still. We all do.
Well, except Kalden, whose back is to us as he rubs his knife against the patchy grass.
“Stop staring at me like that,” Yvonne grumbles, poking Demi’s shoulder to snap her out of the shock-induced haze.
“How do you know I’m staring?”
Yvonne scoffs. “Because you’re standing there like you’ve seen a reanimated corpse or somethin’. Still got a pulse, if you wanna check, and I don’t think anything’s broken.”
She taps a hand against her heart. Now that most of the blood’s been cleared, the six wounds surrounding the vital organ are more visible. Unlike the gaping holes in her leather, the puncture marks themselves are barely larger than pinpricks.
Demi grabs her friend’s wrist for a gentle inspection. “But I heard the snap.”
Yvonne rotates her hand in a circle and wiggles her gloved fingers. “It’s fine. See?”
“How are you . . .” Gem starts to ask, then stops.
“Not dead?” Yvonne supplies, then lifts her shoulders. “Dunno.”
“Perhaps the wounds were more surface-level than feared,” Kalden suggests while rejoining our group.
My gaze narrows. The others might’ve missed his little display of magic, but I didn’t. He did something. Healed her, somehow.
I get why he’d be dodgy about it with them, writing off their concerns like overreactions.
But why keep it from me? If I’d known I could use this borrowed energy to heal, maybe Meridna would still be alive.
Sure, our private lessons were abysmally short, but Kalden could’ve at least mentioned that we could harness the sun’s power for more than just offensive attacks.
A simple heads-up would’ve been better than nothing.
But he couldn’t even be bothered to do that.
What else is he withholding?
Kalden’s head swivels towards me, like he senses my growing suspicion.
I’m not alone in my skepticism.
“All that blood,” Gem points out.
Yvonne rolls onto her feet, backing farther into the forest’s shadows. “Look, all I know is I’m alive, and I’d like to keep it that way. So, we should probably keep it moving before death changes its mind, yeah?”
She tugs several large bandage strips from her knapsack, placing them across her ripped leathers before weaving her arm through Demi’s, who nods.
“Should we head towards the meadow?” I suggest. “To check for the others?”
“They weren’t there a few minutes ago,” Gem reasons, “and I doubt they’d come back to the spot they were attacked. I wouldn’t.”
It makes sense, but I shake my head anyway. “We can’t leave without them.”
“They’re already gone,” Yvonne says, then rushes to add, “On the run, I mean. Not gone gone. Hopefully.”
Sensing my discomfort, Gem softens her tone. “Gabe’s fine. You saw him yesterday. He can handle himself—probably better than we can, since he’s got those nightstone missiles.”
“What about Twilynn though? And Aruna?” Though I agree with Gem’s assessment of Gabe, I’m less confident about the odds for our two youngest comrades.
“Maybe they’re all together?” she supplies, fidgeting with the hilt of her sheathed poniard. “But we can’t wait around here, hoping they’ll find their way back to us.”
My pitch heightens. “So, we’re just going to abandon them, then?”
“That’s not what—”
“What if it was me you were leaving behind?”
It’s an unfair question. If I were in Gabe’s shoes right now, and he was here, I’d want them to continue without me. But I know Gem wouldn’t do that. She knows it, too, judging from her silence.
Yvonne waves an arm out in front of herself. “Even if we wanted to find them, how would we do that? Unless Bren shoots off one of those big black beacons, how are we supposed to know where to go?”
“They could’ve gone deeper into the forest,” Demi supplies. “That’s what Aunt Jackie did, before the glowing birds guided her home.”
“Glowing birds?” Kalden asks, deigning to rejoin the conversation.
“Long story,” Yvonne replies, then adds, “If Aruna was doing more than judging your aunt and actually listening to her story, I bet that’s exactly where she is. Probably the others, too.”
“No.”
We all angle towards Kalden, whose back is now turned to us as he peers out at the white-gold dunes.
Arms crossed, I position myself in front of him. “Care to elaborate?”
It takes him a few seconds before he gestures to the open landscape to our right. “Easier to launch a missile out there than in the thick of all those trees. If the chancellor’s son is smart and has any hope of accomplishing his mission, he’ll hang around closer to the forest’s edge.”
Without waiting for our agreement, Kalden strides forward.
“We’ll be too exposed if we stick around the edge,” Gem counters, picking at the leather strap on her scabbard. “Remember the map? The dunes were scattered with black pins.”
Of course I remember. The barren sandy hills are both the perfect stomping grounds for the Sols, who thrive in direct sunlight, and a graveyard for the Huntresses who’ve come before us.
And a day ago, I’d likely have agreed that the better strategy would be to tread towards the forest’s depths.
A day ago, I thought the chances of defeating a single Sol were slim to nil.
Things have changed. Four Sols have fallen in the past twenty-four hours, thanks to Gabe’s airborne nightstone, Kalden’s experience, and the power dancing beneath my fingertips.
What if the Hunt’s original purpose is no longer a pipe dream?
I voice as much to Gem. “I think Kalden’s right. Gabe believes in the Hunt, what it stands for, and he came prepared.”
“But the map—”
“Things are different this year.”
“How?” Her tone grows thick. “Three people died today. Tell me how that’s any different from years past.”
“I know,” I admit with a shaky breath, rubbing a hand along my upper arm as I replay the screams and visions of three lifeless bodies in the strewn grass. “But we also killed three Sols today, Gem. And one yesterday. For the first time, we stand an actual chance of eliminating them.”
She claps twice without enthusiasm. “Spoken like a true patriot. Your ex-father-in-law would be proud.”