7. CHAPTER SEVEN
Alena couldn’t look away from Elder Ignatius’ crumpled form on the floor. He lay immobile, one gnarled hand clutching the dagger’s hilt.
“Kat… You—”
“We need to get out before the whole tent collapses.” Katell staggered to her feet, using the beam for support.
Wooden furniture and rugs crackled all around them. It was only a matter of time before the tent’s poles toppled. Returning to her senses, Alena grabbed her sister’s crossbow and helped sling it over Katell’s shoulders.
“Alena…” a soft voice called out. Amid the smoke and flames, a frail body lay sprawled before the collapsed dais.
“Elder Yorn!”
Katell reached out. “Alena, don’t—”
But she leapt to the older woman’s aid. Elder Yorn had cared for their father; leaving her to the fire was too cruel a fate. Somehow, the elder had managed to crawl away from the blaze, although her legs bore angry red burn marks.
Alena shielded her face from the heat. “I’ll get some help!”
“No, my dear.” The old woman took a shuddering breath. “It is too late. The ancestors will watch over me soon. Please, take this.”
With a trembling hand, she reached inside her robes and pulled out something tucked against her breast. It glinted gold in the firelight.
Her mother’s torc.
“I took it back.” Elder Yorn’s feeble voice quivered. Every word seemed to come at a great cost. “Take it, my dear… It belongs to you. Your mother… Your mother was such a formidable woman.”
Alena froze, staring down at the frail woman who had watched over her all her life as if seeing her anew. How had Elder Yorn known her mother?
A loud creak cut them off: the tent’s wooden framework was threatening to succumb to the flames.
There was no time left.
“Alena!” Katell screamed from somewhere within the cloud of dark smoke.
They needed to get out, but Alena was blinded, unable to make out any sign of her sister. When she turned back to Elder Yorn, her heart clenched.
It was too late. The elder had already joined her ancestors.
Stashing the necklace inside her tunic, Alena fought her way back through the billowing smoke and raging flames. The searing heat stung her eyes and throat, but she pressed forward until a stream of light broke through, revealing Katell standing by the entrance.
“Alena—thank the Moon! Hurry!”
They burst out of the tent, and a deafening crack filled the air, followed by a series of snaps. Alena glanced back. The central pillar swayed, the felt fabric undulating as if in a dance. Katell grabbed her arm and ran faster as the support poles collapsed. The elder’s tent, the largest in the camp, came crashing down.
A cloud of embers and black smoke swept over them. Alena covered her mouth and nose and sprinted away, eager to get out of sight.
Once past the first row of tents, she dropped to her knees, coughing up smoke. Katell wrapped her one good arm around Alena’s waist and hauled her into an inconspicuous tent draped with furs.
Inside, they found a pitcher of fresh water abandoned by a washbasin. They quenched their ashy throats, then splashed their faces to rinse the smoke from their eyes.
Tearing a strip of linen from her tunic, Alena drenched it in clean water and wrapped it around the welts on Katell’s arm. Upon closer inspection, the skin didn’t look as raw.
“That’s all I can do for now.” Her voice came out hoarse.
Katell’s grimace softened into a smile. “Thanks.”
They crept back to the tent’s opening and peered out. The elders’ tent was still ablaze. A few brave men carrying buckets of water were striving in vain to douse the spreading flames. The water only fizzled and evaporated in the heat.
Alena clenched her fists. “We have to help them.”
“No, we need to leave,” Katell said. “They’ll spot us soon.”
Armed men gathered before the burning tent. Their shouting intensified as a few pointed in the sisters’ direction. Demetrius and Scylas’ father were among them.
Katell shot to her feet with a curse. “Quick, head for the horse!” She slipped her hands through the tent’s thick, insulating furs, grabbed the wooden frame underneath, and began pushing.
Alena gaped at her. “Kat, what are you doing?”
“Blocking their path. Now go! I’ll be right behind you.”
Digging her boots in the dusty soil, Katell shoved the frame with all her might. The wooden beams creaked and swayed, tipping sideways little by little.
Alena remained rooted to the spot. Was this her sister’s magic?
“Alena, go!” Katell snapped.
Emerging from her stupor, she sprinted northward. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh faded as she weaved her way through the tents, unimpeded, not a soul in sight. Reaching the hidden supply bags, she hoisted them over her shoulders and darted towards the goat pens, where a bay horse was tied.
A loud crash rang out behind her, and she jumped. The stallion reared then stomped the ground, nostrils flaring.
“Hush! Hush, I’m a friend.” Alena grabbed the reins and patted his neck to soothe him.
Heart pounding in her ears, she slung the heavy bags across the stallion’s back with trembling hands.
More shouts rang out in the distance.
Where was Katell?
After what they’d done, they had to flee, and fast—not just Camp Bessi, but the Freefolk Lands as well. Once word spread, no camp would take them in.
The cries drew closer, and finally, Katell burst through the last row of tents and past the pens. “Climb on. Quick!”
Before Alena could move, an arrow whizzed past her cheek and embedded itself into the ground behind her.
Across the pen, Katell swung her crossbow from her shoulders and aimed for the tents. “Hurry!” she shouted. “I’ll catch up with you later!”
Two hunters emerged from the maze of tents, bows in hand. They aimed at Katell, and Alena’s heart lodged in her throat. With the hunters joining the fray, Katell stood no chance.
Alena yanked the dagger from her tunic. “I’m not leaving without you.”
They”d escape together or not at all.
Katell’s first bolt tore through the air and impaled a hunter in the shoulder. He fell backwards with a grunt.
“Stay behind the horse,” Katell ordered. She knelt, pulled the bowstring back with one hand, and effortlessly loaded another bolt.
Shocked, Alena obeyed, clutching the dagger between her clammy hands. A sense of uselessness gnawed at her, but she’d only get in the way if she tried to help.
Katell aimed again, this time hitting the second hunter square in the chest. He didn’t get back up.
“Quick, go!” Katell raced towards the horse.
Alena collected the reins in one hand, and Katell lifted her atop the stallion, then clambered up behind her. Perched on the horse’s back, Alena spotted a tall figure emerge from the rows of tents.
A figure with short, sandy-coloured hair and a wolf fur cloak.
Alena tensed.
Katell whipped around.
Scylas drew his broad sword and strode towards them.
“Kat!” The strain in his voice matched the dark look on his face.
For a moment, her sister faltered. Then she quickly cocked another bolt and forced the heavy crossbow into Alena’s hands. “Keep it aimed at him at all times. If he comes near you, don’t hesitate. Shoot and then ride as fast as you can.”
Katell jumped from the horse and drew their father’s Achaean sword.
A chill settled in Alena’s gut. “What are you going to do?”
Katell looked up, and beneath her tough fa?ade, Alena discerned the raw emotions she was trying to conceal. Only her clouded green eyes gave her away.
“I need to stop him, or he’ll never let us leave.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Alena pleaded. “Let’s just go. Now!”
Her sister shook her head. “I killed Elder Ignatius. His grandfather. And he probably thinks we started the fire that killed all the elders, too. He can never stop hunting us down, even if we leave. His family”s honour demands it.”
Before Alena could stop her, Katell squeezed her hand and took off. She couldn’t shake the sinking sensation in her chest. One that grew with every step Katell advanced towards Scylas.
How could her sister ever confront him?