“Then run back home where you’re safe and sound,” Volgan spat.
Paxton stopped the glowering Zorfinan from moving forward.
“It is suicide to go in ridgelands in cold,” the Zorfinan said to Paxton. The man was shivering already, accustomed to the dry heat of the Zorfina deserts, his clothing and head scarf too lightweight for these temperatures.
Volgan chuckled under his breath, and Paxton could no longer stomach it. He stepped close to the hairy man and spoke through clenched teeth.
“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you, once and for all.”
Volgan’s eyes widened at Paxton’s threat, his hairy face sneering, but Lief stepped between them and gave his man a push backward. “Our fight is not with one another. I was going to suggest some of the men stay here anyway, in case the beast comes back down.”
The seven Zorfinans gave tight nods of agreement. Paxton turned to Tiern, who was slightly shivering, too. He spoke to his brother under his breath.
“You should stay here.”
“No,” Tiern ground out, standing taller. He’d always been lean, which gave him no protection against the cold. Paxton quietly sighed.
Harrison stepped up and clasped both brothers on the shoulders. “I’m going.”
None of the Ascomannians volunteered to remain. They seemed immune to the cold and would do anything to impress Lord Alvi. So be it.
Just a few hours until the sun would be up and warmth returned, Paxton told himself as they set off into the cold night.
Chapter
27
Rozaria clutched her cloak tightly against the bitter wind, cursing the Lochlanach climate. She missed the constant heat of Kalor, but her mission was too important to let personal comfort hinder her. She dug a pair of leather gloves from her deep pockets and slid her frozen hands inside—all the better to hide her nails. Gloves were frowned upon throughout Eurona for that very reason, but few would question it in this weather.
She knew the hunters had come this way. Hundreds of townspeople lined the Eurona River with bonfires, celebrating how they’d helped the hunters give chase. Fools. The beast could not be so easily killed.
Into the trees she went, with her silent company of one. For an hour they trudged as cold rain fell and the grounds began to slope upward. Rozaria was not prepared to enter the mountains of Toresta. She was about to turn and go back when she heard murmured voices ahead in the darkness. She stilled, and her companion followed suit.
Slowly, the two women crept forward until they spotted seven men huddled together for warmth. She recognized the head wraps of the drylands, and she held back a chuckle. These men knew even less about how to handle themselves in the freezing rain than she did. At least she could start a fire with her hands if needed. What pathetic excuses for hunters.
“Stay hidden for now,” Rozaria said to the girl at her side, “unless I need you.”
The girl nodded from the depths of her dripping hood.
Rozaria made her way around a thick tree and pulled back her hood just enough to show her face to the men. They stood when they saw her, several grabbing their weapons. Rozaria smiled.
“Hunters?” she asked in Zorfinan. This made them glance around at one another. Finally, one stepped forward.
“Jes. It is not safe here, miss. The beast could return down the mountain.”
“The beast went into the mountains? Why have you stayed down here?” She cocked her head, as if asking out of innocent inquisitiveness.
The men exchanged guilty glances. “We stay in case the beast comes back.”
“Ah. Good. But what a shame that the other hunters have a better chance at tonight’s glory. At least you are safe.”
Now the men dropped their eyes completely. Hiding her glee at their shame, Rozaria forced a fearful look. “Is it as awful as they say? This creature?”
The leader’s head snapped up. He wiped rain from his face. “It is more terrible than the tales.”
“Where do you think it came from?” she asked.
The men began to murmur, “Curse of the Lashed,” gesticulating with their ridiculous signs to ward off evils.
“I see.” Rozaria’s heart began to race, a slice of satisfaction spreading through her. “I will leave you to hunt your cursed foe. I was traveling through when I heard there were brave hunters in this area. I have brought oat cakes. I’m sorry I do not have more to offer.” She pulled a sack of small cakes from her pocket. The man took them, nodding his appreciation. They reached in, snatching the bag from one another and shoving the pastries into their mouths.
Rozaria could not hold back the smile that fought to show. The cakes were made with a special Kalorian ingredient: deadly jungle seeds.
The first man to sputter and cough fell to his knees. Then a second. Now a third. The final man who’d taken a cake looked at Rozaria with dread in his eyes, having figured out the truth. He went for his dagger, rushing at her, but suddenly gasped and looked down at a small hand around his ankle. Rozaria’s hooded companion had moved from her hidden spot behind a tree to grasp him. The man tipped like a stiff tree and landed, dead.
A few of the men still shuddered, convulsing, as the hooded girl stood and moved to Rozaria’s side.
“I will write their final words. Grab one of their daggers and stab each of them through. Hurry, while their blood is still warm.”
The girl obeyed. Rozaria took parchment and a piece of chalk from her cloak pocket, crouching over to block the rain. Her plan was working even better than she could have imagined. Soon, it would be time.
Chapter
28
At the moment, Tiern couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t more like Paxton. They had the same parents, the same bloodline, the same job and pastimes. So why was Paxton broad with muscle and tough as steel, while he was thin, chattering his teeth against the cold like a child?
These were Tiern’s musings as he followed Paxton, trying to think about anything but the cold, and not able to keep up with the findings of their trackings. He should have listened to Pax when he told him to stay. They’d only been hiking uphill a couple hours and it was obvious Tiern was a worthless tagalong. He did his best to keep up and stay out of the way, silently.
Every so often they detoured when someone spotted tracks or broken debris. Tiern kept to the side. A hearty gust of frozen wind broke through the trees, sending pine needles shooting down at the men. Tiern stumbled and felt his boot sink into something soft. He immediately recognized the squelch of scat underfoot. He shook off his boot and peered down in the dark. It was the largest pile of animal excrement he’d ever seen, and he had to cover his nose against the vile smell.
“Pax . . .”
His brother and Harrison turned. The three of them squatted over the spot and the Ascomannians stopped to watch.
Paxton’s palm hovered over the pile. “Still warm on the inside.” He then poked it with a stick and raised it to his nose. “Has the smell and texture of a carnivore. Too large to be a bear’s.”
Harrison clapped Tiern on the back, nearly toppling him. “Well done!”
Yes, well done stepping in shite, Tiern thought to himself.
Paxton stood and looked to the men from the coldlands. “We’re on the right track.”
Lief grinned. At that precise moment the sky gave an ominous rumble and another gust of wind ripped through the trees.
“Sky’s about to blow,” muttered Harrison.
Lief cursed. “Let’s hope not. It’ll cover the beast’s tracks.”
It got darker and colder. Tiny thunks began from afar, moving closer through the woods, and something pelletlike hit Tiern on top of his head. One landed on his shoulder and he plucked it off—a ball of ice.
“High seas, it’s hailing,” Tiern said. They got hail very rarely, maybe once a year during the winter in his seaside town. To see it in the fall was strange. But then again, he was many miles from home and at a much higher elevation.
 
; “We keep moving,” Lief told his men.
Paxton leveled Tiern with a questioning look, not moving.
“I’m fine. Let’s go.” Indeed, Tiern felt renewed after discovering the beast’s scat, and was almost numb to the elements now.
They marched on for ten minutes, faces lowered. The stinging pellets began to let up, becoming something worse. Something wetter. Freezing rain.
Within minutes it was pouring, a mix of ice and rain that soaked them through.
“Curse it all,” Paxton muttered. He glanced at Tiern, brown hair stuck to his face. “Do you need to stop?”
“No!” Tiern shouted. He was sick of Paxton assuming he needed babying. Tiern hated that his brother could so easily sense his weakness. Tiern surged past, hitting Pax with his numb shoulder. The Ascomannians were already a fair distance ahead. Tiern picked up his pace, thankful for the burst of angry energy.
They moved briskly through the mud, keeping their heads down. At this point, no signs of the beast could be found on the ground. Every ten feet or so, Tiern raised his head to peer around at the foliage and trees for broken limbs or trampled bushes. The incline gradually steepened, becoming rockier. To their left, through a cluster of trees, Tiern could see the rise of cliffs.
A cry sounded from behind him. Tiern spun, his heart in his throat, expecting to see the beast. But it was Harrison, slumped over.
Paxton knelt beside him. “Is it your ankle?”
Harrison nodded, sucking air through his teeth. “Twisted it. Slipped on a cursed rock.” Harrison tried to stand and winced as he put weight on the leg.
Paxton glanced up the hill where the Ascomannians were disappearing into the dark, freezing rain.
“Leave me,” Harrison said. “I’ll be fine. They won’t wait.”
“No.” Paxton’s face was tight with resignation. “It’s useless to track in this weather.” He got under one of Harrison’s arms and Tiern automatically moved to support his other side. “We’ll find some semblance of shelter until daylight.” They’d been hiking half the night, but were still barely into the ridgelands.
Tiern pointed toward the rockier area. “Perhaps through there.”
Paxton nodded, and off they went. Walking with an invalid in the freezing cold was neither quick nor simple. They maneuvered clumsily through the trees and over debris and rocks. A thin layer of ice had accumulated over everything, and Tiern found himself shivering once again. His teeth chattered against his will, and Harrison’s joined his. After an agonizing hour they found a high rock that jutted out with an overhanging tree, providing a few feet of meager shelter.
“Let Tiern be in the middle,” Harrison said. The brothers lowered him to the edge of the dry patch and Tiern practically fell beside him. The three of them huddled together, not moving for the first time in hours, and soon Tiern’s body completely overtook his mind. Next to him, Harrison’s head slumped in immediate sleep. Together they shivered, but Tiern’s body quaked violently after having run and hiked for hours in the cold. He looked down at his hands and was somewhat amused to find that he couldn’t bend his fingers. His toes wouldn’t move inside his boots either. He laughed aloud, or maybe it was in his mind. Tiern vaguely noticed Paxton staring at him. Such a worrier, that one.
The world went in and out of focus.
“. . . need a bloody fire,” he heard Paxton muttering to himself, turning out his pockets and cursing once again. He wanted to laugh at the sight of Paxton on his knees, gathering a pile of soaking, icy twigs. Paxton glanced up at Tiern, who could feel his own head tilt to the side, leaning against Harrison’s. He couldn’t read Paxton’s expression at first, but when it hit him, it fractured something inside him.
His brother was afraid. But . . . Paxton wasn’t afraid of anything.
Tiern’s body quaked, and his eyes fluttered. He stared at Paxton, who watched him fight to stay awake. Tiern failed, his eyes shutting, but he struggled against the complete overtaking of sleep, too shaken by the look in his brother’s eyes. He heard an ongoing hiss, then a crackle. Tiern’s eyes cracked open and he slowly understood how dire his situation was.
He was hallucinating. He blinked, but the strange sight was still there, Paxton hunkered down, his fists tight around a handful of twigs, and smoke seeping from the ends. Each angle of his brother’s face was stern with concentration. It looked as if Paxton were drying the sticks. And then, one by one, he lit them aflame.
With his hands.
Sudden warmth hit Tiern’s skin, causing his body to jolt in reaction. So this is what it feels like to go mad. . . . His eyes rolled back as he passed out.
Chapter
29
“Please!” The woman’s shaking hands were splayed across her swollen belly as she begged Paxton’s grandmother. “I know you’re Lashed! My own mother told me. I know you can feel for its heart and . . . and . . .” The woman began crying. “This is my sixth pregnancy. None have lasted this long. Please . . .”
His grandmother’s face was fearsome. “If I help you, I will be killed when they do the census. I have grandsons to care for. I cannot risk it. Please . . . you must go.”
The women hadn’t noticed young Paxton sidling closer, watching their interaction and soaking in their shared desperation. The answer seemed simple in his mind. This woman needed help. Who could fault someone for helping?
Paxton had never seen a pregnant stomach before. He found himself face-to-face with the intriguing bulge, and without thought, he gently placed both his hands on it. Immediately he felt a natural heat flow through his body, pounding inside his hands, emanating from him. The woman gave a giant gasp, which was followed by his grandmother’s own intake of air.
“Pax!”
“Don’t touch him!” The woman screamed, covering Paxton’s small hands with her own. His grandmother covered her mouth, her eyes watering. Paxton closed his eyes, lost to the sensation. It was as if he were searching for something through a dark maze, using only this internal sense, seeking around inside this mass in front of him, and when he found it, like a star of waning energy, his hands heated again, infusing something into this woman, into the small body that lay curled in her womb. Her stomach jumped under his fingers, and his hands cooled. A rush of energy buzzed inside him. He lowered his arms and watched as the woman ran her hands across her rounded belly. The laugh she let out, and the beaming smile she gave him, was like a gift.
“Thank you.” The woman bent and took Paxton’s head, kissing him repeatedly on his brown mop of hair. “Thank you, boy, seas bless thee.”
But before she could even stand again, Paxton’s grandmother took the woman by the throat, pushing her against the table, putting her face close. The woman grabbed his grandmother’s wrist, her eyes bulging.
“Grandmother!”
She ignored Paxton, staring hard at the woman. “If you speak a word of this to another living soul, even your husband, I shall take the life of you and your babe just as easily as my grandson has given it. Do you understand?”
“Yes! I swear it! I will take this to the grave. Please. You’ve no idea how grateful I am. I would never endanger either of you.” She began to cry in earnest. “I swear it.”
Paxton’s grandmother released the woman, who clutched her stomach and sobbed.
His grandmother spoke again, but with much more gentleness this time. “Pull yourself together and go live your life. Never come here again.”
The woman wiped her eyes and nodded, touching her throat. Then she clutched the door handle and left them.
Paxton was so confused. He felt as if he’d done something good. He’d never felt more alive. . . . Nothing had ever been so right. So why were tears streaming down his grandmother’s face?
“What have I done wrong, Grandmother? I didn’t mean to upset you. I . . . I couldn’t help myself.”
“I know, dear. I know all too well. That urge to mend what’s broken.” She sat on her wooden stool and pulled him to her knees, taking his face in her wize
ned hands. “Oh, Paxton. I had so hoped the lineage would die with me.”
Tiern rushed in at that moment, covered in sand with salt water in his hair. “Come see my best sand castle ever, Grandmama!”
“I’ll be right there, sweet boy. Run along.”
Tiern rushed out and she turned to Paxton again. She raised his small hands and looked at his fingertips. Paxton stared, confused. Strange purple lines ran along the bottom of his nails. “What is that?” He pulled his hands away and rubbed his thumbnail. “Why won’t it come off?” A sickening sensation filled his gut as his grandmother stared at him with pity.
“The mark will move up and disappear as your nails grow out. You shall stay with me until those lines go away. I have much to tell you and it must remain our secret. Not even your mum, your papa, or little Tiern can know. I’m sorry you must bear this curse, precious boy. So terribly sorry . . .”
As dawn finally broke, a fat squirrel poked its face out of the crevasse of a nearby tree, nose twitching at the silent morning. Paxton moved with slow patience, drawing his bow, watching the animal creep its way onto the slippery branch. Before it could retreat back into its warm hole, Paxton shot. The squirrel let out a small bark and fell to the ground.
Paxton leaped to his feet and retrieved their breakfast. Back at their makeshift shelter, he skinned the small creature, all the while silently thanking it for giving its life to sustain them, by choice or not. He made a crisscross of larger, slower burning sticks on top of the fire to cook their meal. At the sizzle of meat, Tiern gave a cough and Harrison moaned beside him. They’d both been restless the past couple hours, but never opened their eyes.
Tiern rubbed his face and looked down at his hands, slowly closing them and stretching them open again. He cracked his neck, then twisted side to side to crack his back.
“By the seas, Pax.” Tiern’s voice was brittle. “Did we truly wander into the ridgelands last night?”