“Aye.” He gave the squirrel a quarter turn over the flames with a stick.
“You made a fire?” Harrison asked, coming to life at the end of their row. He leaned down to poke at his ankle, grimacing.
Paxton cleared his throat, hoping his brother couldn’t read his lies. “I had flint. Found some dry wood sheltered by a fallen log that way.” He jerked his head to the side, ignoring Tiern’s questioning eyes narrowed on him.
Paxton glanced down at his dirty hands, at the fingertips he’d muddied hours ago after building the fire. He crossed his arms, shoving his hands into hiding.
“I had the strangest imaginings. . . .” Tiern stared down at the fire.
“I’m sure you did,” Paxton said. “Only dreams. You were laughing to yourself like a nutter, completely frozen, and then you fell fast asleep.”
Harrison chuckled, giving his ankle a gingerly turn.
“How’s it feel now?” Tiern asked him.
“Better. Still tender, but I think the cold was actually good for it.” He stood carefully, and nodded. “I’ll make it back today, perhaps at the speed of a turtle.”
Slow suited Paxton. He was ill of mind that morning. First, it felt as though he’d let the beast slip through his fingers, simply handing it to the Ascomannians, and then . . . then he’d done the unthinkable—the thing he’d promised his grandmother he’d never do—the thing that could get him killed. But he’d kept his brother and the lieutenant alive. That was what mattered. The only thing he regretted was the fact that he lived in an age with ridiculous laws and prejudices.
Paxton stood, suddenly angry all over again. He could feel Tiern watching him as he paced over frosted leaves and icy twigs. He squatted to turn the squirrel on the fire, and looked out at the forest around them, dipping downward at a slope. As the sun rose, it made the ice glitter on the trees, and slowly the sounds of droplets hitting the forest floor began as melting temperatures set in.
He didn’t want to return to Lochlanach. He didn’t want to face the people who’d rather see his brother freeze to death than to be kept warm by the use of magic. He didn’t want to hear the land’s uproar of hysteria if they found out one of the hunters was Lashed, and they were bound to find out if he didn’t stay in hiding for as long as it would take his nails to grow out. Lochlans, even the fishermen and farmers, prided themselves on keeping clean hands in the off hours for that very reason.
To prove they weren’t like him.
“You all right?” Harrison asked. Paxton realized his hands were in his hair, grasping at the long strands that had fallen out of the tie.
“Fine,” he said, dropping his hands. He nodded at the squirrel, which was browned now. “It’s ready to eat.”
Tiern set to work on their breakfast, dividing the small amount of meat and innards. He tried to hand some to Paxton, who shook his head.
“You’ve got to eat,” Tiern told him.
“I’m fine for now.” He couldn’t explain to his brother the buzz of clean energy that surged through him since he’d worked magic—as if years had been added to his life. He felt like a much younger lad, and it made him realize that he, too, would age quickly, just as his grandmother and other Lashed did when they didn’t use their powers.
Paxton set to pacing again, breathing fast, trying to control his raging emotions.
When they finished eating, they began the slow trek back down the mountainside. It would take a good part of the day, which was fine, because Paxton had a lot to think about. He needed to decide what to do. He wished they hadn’t had to sell his grandmother’s seaside cottage when she passed. It was the perfect home, away from others, where one could live out their life in solitude. Because that’s what Paxton needed to seek now. Solitude.
He would have to decide whether or not to tell his family, or to let them believe he was abandoning them. Tiern should probably know, given the chance that his own children could be burdened with this curse someday.
A pang of hunger hit Paxton around high noon and he kept his eyes peeled for prey. After half a mile, when the grade in the ground’s tilt began to lessen, Paxton thought he spied a nut tree with a small clearing under its canopy. He cut a path through the brush until they reached it.
Large green orbs hung limply from branches, and the ground was littered with them.
“Walnuts!” Harrison exclaimed.
The men set to crushing the tough green outer shells underfoot and peeling them off. The inner shells had to be pried open with their knives. When Paxton finally got his first one open and poured its broken contents into his mouth, his stomach gave a loud growl.
“Pax, your hands are filthy,” Tiern pointed out.
Paxton dropped his hands to his sides too quickly. “I’m not going to waste valuable water cleaning my hands.”
He turned to pick another nut, putting his back to them.
“River’s probably less than a mile east,” Harrison said. “We can detour there to wash up if you’d like.”
Paxton responded without turning. “No. I’d prefer to get back sooner if it’s all the same to you.”
“Yeah,” Tiern said, kicking a rotted nut. “I want to find out if the Ascomannians found the beast. Seas alive, I’ll die if that Volgan barbarian killed it.”
Harrison let out a dry laugh. “Can you imagine the princess married to the likes of him? Sad day for our kingdom.”
The bitter nut on Paxton’s tongue became so dry, he nearly choked. He took a glug of water, the hunger pains suddenly turning to a burning sensation of rising bile.
“Can I ask you something?” Tiern said to Harrison. The lieutenant raised his chin. “You and Princess Aerity . . . you’re . . .” Tiern shook his head and looked away. “Never mind. It’s not my business. Sorry.”
Paxton’s heart kicked, and he eyed Harrison, who had gone still.
“No, it’s all right,” Harrison said. “We’ve known each other since we were young. I care for her a great deal.”
The three of them were quiet a few moments as they cracked into the next round of nuts. Paxton felt hyperaware of the lieutenant as curiosity burned through him.
“So,” Tiern went on, casually prying at a shell. “You have a past with her, then?”
Harrison stopped and faced him, a meek grin on his face. “Is there something you’d like to ask me directly, Tiern?”
Tiern cleared his throat. “I suppose I just wonder . . . if the two of you . . .”
Paxton felt as if he should intervene to make his brother stop, but he was shamefully interested in what else Harrison might reveal. Jealousy sensitized his skin.
The naval officer moved toward Tiern, his smile disappearing. “The princess is an honorable girl, and I am an honorable man.”
“Of course,” said Tiern, faltering. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant, are you in love?”
This gave Harrison pause. He stared down at the walnut in his hand for a long while. “Like I said, we care for each other.” At that, he turned away, reaching up to pluck another nut with his free hand.
A sense of mild relief washed through Paxton, and Tiern finally shut up. The fate of the princess was not Paxton’s concern, and he’d do well to put her from his mind altogether.
He crushed the next walnut under the heel of his boot so hard the entire thing went to bits, insides and all.
Chapter
30
Princess Aerity waited none too patiently outside her father’s office with Lady Wyneth. When the door opened, she pushed her way inside, nearly knocking aside a naval commander.
“What news?” Aerity asked, rushing to his desk.
The king stood, his face as tightly drawn as ever. “One hunter was killed by the beast. The others gave chase to the north and have not returned.”
Aerity rocked back on her heels, light-headed as the blood drained from her face.
“Who?” It came out barely a whisper.
“I’m sorry, what?” the king said.
Wyneth stepped fo
rward, paler than ever. “Uncle . . . who was killed?”
“Samuel Gullet. A Lochlan widower from Loch Nech.”
Both the girls closed their eyes. Aerity felt a rush of relief followed closely by remorse.
The door to the king’s office burst open, startling them all. An officer took off his felt hat and moved before the king.
“Your Majesty, the seven remaining Zorfinans were found just after daylight at the foot of the ridgelands . . . all dead.”
Aerity gasped in horror, and Wyneth grabbed her hand. The queen closed her eyes.
“How?” King Charles demanded. “Attacked?”
His adviser shook his head, his face pinched. “It was rather strange, Your Majesty. Each was stabbed through the heart with a dagger. And there was a note.” He handed it to the king, who read aloud.
“We are cowards. We must die or live in shame. Change is coming.” He peered across at his adviser. “An honor killing?”
“Aye. I assume because they did not go into the hills with the other hunters.”
“But what does that mean, about change coming?”
His adviser shook his head. “We don’t know, sir. The whole thing is bizarre.”
The king gripped the note in his hand, his anger surging, and brought his fist down on his desk. The bang echoed through the room.
“And the others? The Lochlans and Ascomannians?” asked Aerity. Wyneth’s hand tightened around hers.
“We assume they’re still on the Torestan border, Your Highness,” answered the adviser. “There is concern for them due to bad weather in the low ridges last night.”
The king rubbed his forehead. “We must find them. Send out a search party. Leave as soon as possible.”
“Should I send word to the Torestan government, Your Majesty? To seek permission to enter their lands, if necessary?”
The king waved this off. “There’s no time to ask permission, but we’ll send news so they can be on the lookout. I’ll deal with King Cliftonia. He knows we’re fighting a creature of severe magnitude. He won’t be happy it’s on his lands, but perhaps it is time the rest of Eurona took a greater interest in what’s happening here. They are not immune to this beast. This will open their eyes. Go. Search.” His adviser nodded and left quickly.
“I want to go,” Aerity said, letting go of Wyneth’s hand to grab her skirts. Her father stepped out from behind the oak desk to face her.
“It’s half a day’s ride to the bottom of the hills, child. We don’t know how far they made it in.”
“I’m not a child, father. You above all should know that.”
At this, he took her by the arm. She was itching to leave, scared to be left behind, but she didn’t dare pull from her father’s grasp.
His face was tight. “My men will find them—”
“I need to go.”
The king cocked his head and leveled a gaze at his daughter. She answered his thoughts before he had time to ask.
“Breckon’s cousin is out there, father. And I’ve also spoken with the other Lochlan lads. I feel I’ve come to know them. I only want to show my support. . . .”
She couldn’t meet his eye, certain he would see through her words to the truth underneath—that she’d developed feelings for one of the hunters, mutual or not.
“I will accompany her, Uncle,” Wyneth promised.
“As will I,” said a voice from the doorway.
They turned to find Vixie in a lavender dress, her mane of red hair pulled back. She marched in and faced their father, making him drop Aerity’s arm. It was the first time Aerity had seen Vixie acknowledge him since the proclamation was made. Aerity turned back to her father with pleading eyes.
“I’m not comfortable with this,” he said.
The three girls stood shoulder to shoulder, Aerity speaking for them. “Father, we haven’t been off royal lands in months. We’re drowning here. The beast has never been seen in daylight and it has never attacked in daylight. We’ll ride with the entourage along Eurona River to the bottom of the hills and return before nightfall.”
“It’s the least you can offer,” Vixie said.
The king stared Vixie down, not appreciating her tone. He then turned to the queen, whose face was unreadable until she sighed.
“Charles, they’ll be surrounded by our men, and the lands are safe during the day. Nobody will hurt them.”
“It’s foolish to take chances,” he said.
The queen’s eyes flashed. “With all Aerity is willing to give, with all the maturity they’ve shown in the face of the kingdom’s troubles, Vixie is right. The least we can do is give them a bit of freedom to live.”
King Charles stared at his wife a moment longer, his jaw working. The girls waited, holding their breaths until he spoke gruffly. “So be it.” He turned to Aerity. “I will add additional riders to accompany the three of you on two conditions.”
Aerity looked up into his eyes, which were obscured with worry.
“You will not leave the lands of Lochlanach.” Aerity nodded her compliance. “And you will return before sundown, alongside your accompaniment, with or without the hunters. You ride straight there and straight back, or, so help me, you’ll be chained to this castle until marriage. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Father.” She dashed from the room before he could change his mind.
The three of them rushed down to the stables, not bothering to stop and change into riding clothes. They’d have to make do in their dresses.
“That was brilliant!” Vixie was practically glowing when they reached the stables.
Soldiers were rounding their steeds when a messenger jogged up with a message from the king. The sergeant in charge looked toward the three royal girls and nodded without complaint. “We’ll set off in ten minutes.”
“We’ll be ready,” Vixie guaranteed him. She was always her most assured self at the stables, having spent time here nearly every day since she could walk.
Vixie gave orders to the stable boys to saddle up their three. They passed a large stall with three shining black gypsy steeds, deep chested and strong. “When did we get those?” Aerity asked. “They’re gorgeous.”
“They belong to the Zandalee.”
Ah. Fitting. Aerity opened her stall door and spoke softly to her dapple gray. “Hello there, beautiful.” The horse let Aerity pet the stretch of white hair between its nose and eyes, but when it caught sight of Vixie, it raised its head and let out a light whinny of happiness.
“Hello, Doll.” Vixie gave her a scratch under the ear, and Aerity couldn’t bring herself to be jealous. She was glad Vix gave the horses personal attention, though Aerity herself only came once a month during her required lesson time. She enjoyed leisurely riding. Aerity moved aside as a stable hand bustled by with Doll’s saddle and harness. Next to them Wyneth was snuggling Mosby, her bay with a tan coat and black mane and tail.
Vixie saddled Ruspin herself, rivaling the quick movements of the stable boys. Ruspin was Vixie’s fourteenth birthday gift—a solid white horse with lovely pink skin and blue eyes. She was a gorgeous, intense beast who didn’t care much for Aerity. Vixie said it could sense Aerity’s nervousness, so the older girl kept her distance.
Once saddled, the two princesses and Wyneth mounted their horses, hiking their loose skirts up, and set off behind the soldiers, flanked by guards. Their pace was clipped. Aerity swallowed down her fear and held on tightly. She’d have sore thighs by the end of this day, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t sit around the castle waiting.
They’d been riding less than two hours between the river and trees when they saw a group of burly men in the distance.
One of the guards shouted, “Oy! Hunters!” They rode faster.
As they got closer, Aerity saw they all had light hair, and were wearing furs with their knees on display over tall, rugged boots.
“Ascomannians,” Vixie whispered.
Aerity scanned them. Definitely not Lochlans. Lord Lief Alvi moved to the
forefront of the hunters and crossed his arms as the head officer dismounted.
“What say you?” asked the officer. “Any sign of the beast? The other hunters?”
Lord Alvi did not look pleased. “We lost its tracks when the weather turned. And we lost the Lochlan men.”
Aerity’s heart quickened to a gallop.
“You haven’t seen them?” the officer asked.
He shook his blond head, hair about his face. “Not since the dead of night when the storm hit.”
“Thank you. We shall ride ahead. Here are some rations for your men.” The officer took a bag from the side of his horse and handed it to Lord Alvi before mounting again.
Aerity watched Lord Alvi, waiting to catch his eye so she could acknowledge him, but his eyes stuck to Wyneth until they rode out of sight. Aerity peered across at her cousin, who was looking straight ahead with rather mottled cheeks.
High seas. It wasn’t in her imagination. Lief had definitely found interest in her cousin, and by the looks of Wyneth’s spotted blush, she was quite aware of it. Never in her life had Aerity been one to shy away from teasing her cousin and talking about boys, or men in this case, but this did not lend itself to their usual banter. Wyneth did not look happy about Lief’s affections. And why would she be when she still wore the gray mourning color for the love she’d lost months before? And when this new man was a suitor in the hunt? The circumstances made Aerity feel like a fist was tightening around her gut. She cursed this terrible situation where her cousin couldn’t seek happiness, even as it was staring her down, quite literally. She would gladly tell the Ascomannian lord to drop out of the hunt to seek her cousin, but she knew a man of honor would not consider quitting a cause for his own desires.
Wyneth must have caught the look of anguish on Aerity’s face, because she spoke loudly against the wind and clomp of hooves, her voice breaking. “Don’t worry, Aer. We will find them. I’m certain they’re okay. . . .”
Aerity blinked and nodded, looking straight ahead again. On her other side she could see in her peripheral vision Vixie’s perfect forward lean, her hair flying back, in her element. The cool fall air whipped against her cheeks, turning them peach.