Page 4 of The Great Hunt


  Aerity let go of the silks and gracefully stood. “You’re too tall for us to do that now.”

  “Oh, let’s just try. Please?”

  Aerity sighed and went to her hands and knees. Vixie giggled and landed on her feet, quickly straddling her sister’s back. They laughed as Aerity moved sluggishly forward, Vixie clinging.

  “Come on, then. You’re as slow as an old mule.” She swatted Aerity’s bottom, making the older princess squeal.

  “I’ll buck you off!” She laughed.

  Aerity picked up speed as Vixie moved, light and agile, resting her knees on Aerity’s lower back, and her palms on Aerity’s shoulder blades.

  “Nice and easy,” Vixie said. Aerity tensed as she felt her sister’s weight change, all the pressure going to her upper back as Vixie moved into a handstand.

  Aerity was holding her breath. She had stopped.

  “Keep moving, you naughty horsie,” Vixie breathed from her handstand.

  Aerity tried to go forward, but couldn’t keep her back tight enough, and the two sisters toppled into a heap, Vixie landing on Aerity with a thud. They laughed together as they hadn’t done in a long time.

  Outside they heard hushed, serious voices passing, and the girls stilled. They looked at each other.

  “I’m worried about Mama and Papa,” Vixie said. “And Wyneth.”

  “I know,” Aerity whispered. “Papa will figure something out, though. Things will be back to normal soon.” She gave her sister a small smile, and Vixie smiled back, seeming relieved.

  Yet the following morning proved Aerity’s words to be worthless. A villager had gone missing in the night. They found his leather boot by the canal near his house, his foot still inside.

  When Aerity saw the fierce look of determination on her father’s face as he sped down the halls, spouting orders to his men, she felt her first spark of hope—it seemed he’d finally had enough. She flattened herself against the wall as the men passed, so focused they never glanced her way.

  “. . . respond with force,” she heard her father say. Yes! He spoke of sending out thousands of soldiers across the kingdom, on both royal and common lands. So much manpower and expertise. They would have to kill the beast.

  Her mother, who’d been steps behind the men, saw Aerity and took her by the hand. “It will be all right now. Keep to your rooms so you don’t get trampled. And be on the lookout for Donubhan. I can’t keep track of that child.” The queen kissed Aerity on the temple and left to catch up.

  Aerity sighed. She checked in on a sleeping Wyneth before heading to her own chambers, wishing she could venture outdoors. In the corridor she spotted a slight movement in the wall curtains and marched over, yanking the curtain back. Donubhan let out a holler of surprise and Aerity bit back a smile.

  “What in Eurona are you doing, Donny?”

  He exhaled and smacked his hands to his thighs. “Nobody will tell me anything!”

  “They won’t tell me anything either,” Aerity said. “Come on. Let’s find Vixie and visit the indoor archery range together. I’ll challenge you both to best out of five.”

  “You’re on!” He ran ahead, dark red locks flopping around his head.

  Everything was going to be okay. Forces would be dispatched this very day to try to catch the nocturnal beast where it slumbered. They would hunt through the night if necessary. By the next day, this madness could be over.

  Princess Aerity awoke to the hope of celebration, but when she tiptoed out of her chambers for an update, she was met with eerie silence. She found Donubhan, Vixie, and the younger cousins eating with the maids in the informal dining room. She rushed past before they spotted her. Following low voices coming from the end of the long hallway, she found her parents, aunts, uncles, and the king’s advisers inside his office. She slipped in behind the standing bodies. When all eyes turned to her she stood straighter, clasping her hands behind her back and lifting her chin as if daring them to make her leave.

  Her father only sighed. “Continue,” he told one of the commanders.

  Aerity felt a moment of proud glee.

  The commander looked ragged, as if he hadn’t slept. “Your Majesty, the men were stationed throughout the kingdom—in trees, at the edges of the water, anywhere we could think. The beast attacked from behind along the east inlet—one of the places it’s never been spotted before. My men say the beast felled ten men within minutes. Their weapons were useless. They say it has tough skin, thick tusks, and sharp claws. It roared loud enough to pierce their eardrums, and . . . the few surviving soldiers ran.”

  The commander sounded ashamed to admit this as the king grimaced. His soldiers ran. For some reason this shocked Aerity more than any other fact. Grown, trained men had run because the beast was that frightening. The room seemed to grow colder.

  “Your Majesty,” began Lord Preston Wavecrest. “Perhaps we should round up a few Lashed to try and kill it with their powers—” The king adamantly shook his head, and her uncle hurried on. “With all due respect, now’s not the time to have a bleeding heart. A Lashed One could kill the beast with a single touch!”

  Aerity’s father slammed a fist against his oak desk, making it rattle. “I will not force civilians to face the beast against their will, Lashed or not. Would you have women, children, and elderly out there when our own soldiers run from it?”

  “There are men on the Lashed records. Not many, but—”

  “I said no.”

  Lord Preston gritted his teeth. Aerity could see the desperation on her uncle’s face. He’d already lost his future son-in-law, and his daughter had withdrawn to a dark place in her mind, gone from them as well.

  “Lord Preston,” the king’s adviser said. “From what I know of the Lashed, they must be able to lay hands on a living being and concentrate. Our men are being flung ten feet from the beast with barely a shrug of its arms. If we could somehow trap it and hold it down, a Lashed One would be valuable, but we have not yet discovered a way to do so.”

  Lord Preston gave a nod and looked away in defeat. Lady Ashley took his hand.

  “Tonight, the soldiers go again,” the king said. “Any who are willing. I will offer a healthy financial reward to the one who kills the beast or injures it enough to take it captive.”

  From that day on, Aerity was allowed into the adult conversations without question. She desperately wanted to drag her grieving cousin along with her, since they’d always done everything together, but the last thing Wyneth needed was to hear talk of the beast.

  Aerity rushed straight to her father’s office for news the next morning, but it was empty. The castle was strangely silent. Aerity neared High Hall, where a guard stood at attention outside the doors. He allowed her to pass without hesitation. She saw movement through the crack of the door, and she opened it enough to peek in at the mostly empty room.

  Aerity held her breath at the sight of her mother climbing the hanging silks. She hadn’t seen her mother perform, even casually, in years. Aerity recalled how weightless her mother had always seemed in her silk acts, but today there was a heaviness about her ascent. Queen Leighlane’s cabernet-colored curls were pulled up tightly and she wore a close-fitting tunic and leggings. She was halfway to the ceiling when she stopped, resting her cheek against the fabric as she swayed.

  The sight filled Aerity with sadness. What was going on in her strong mother’s mind? Was all hope lost? She refused to believe it.

  Queen Leighlane seemed to come back to herself. She reclined into a lean and pulled her knees up, repositioning her feet with a glide of the cloth. Her body wound and slid into position with the silks around her waist. Aerity recognized the position of a drop roll. Her mother began to soar downward, and the princess quickly saw that her mother was not stopping the roll soon enough. Queen Leighlane reached up wildly to grab at the silks, but tumbled to the ground with a thump.

  “Mama!” Aerity ran into the hall, the guard at her heels, and fell to her mother’s side.

&
nbsp; The queen sat up, pressing a hand against her hip.

  “Your Highness!” The guard crouched beside her.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  “Shall I fetch Mrs. Rathbrook?” he asked.

  “No. It’s only bruising. You may leave us.”

  He hesitated before standing. “I’ll be just outside the door if you need anything, Your Highness.”

  The queen reached for Aerity’s hand and they clasped, moving closer.

  Aerity helped her sit up. “Are you certain you’re okay?”

  “I’ve had worse falls.” The queen managed a small smile, which quickly faltered as she met her daughter’s eyes. The woman’s chin trembled.

  “What is it, Mama? What happened last night?”

  “Your father . . .” She sniffed and composed herself. “He’s at his wit’s end, love. The men refused to hunt last night. Hundreds of them. Even after your father offered a larger reward. We cannot stretch the kingdom’s finances further. They’re asking for higher-powered weapons, more versatile versions of the cannons they use at sea, but it could take months, years, to develop and produce something like that.”

  “Seas alive,” Aerity whispered.

  Her mother’s eyes cleared as she looked at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put this burden on your shoulders—”

  “No.” Aerity’s voice was resolute. “I need to know what is going on. The kingdom’s burdens are mine as well as yours.”

  The queen’s eyes watered. “This beast. It’s too strong, too vicious. The men say their war cries only taunt it. My girl . . . I’m frightened for what’s to come.”

  Aerity shivered and pulled her mother against her. She needed her mother to stay strong, for all of them. She’d never seen her like this. “Everything will be all right, Mama. Father will figure something out.”

  She hoped if she kept saying it, it would become truth.

  Aerity held hands with her mother as news was issued in the king’s office.

  “Three fishermen were reported missing. Traces of their remains were found at daybreak at the sea’s edge. They were . . .” The adviser swallowed hard. “Their bodies were spread over a vast area, as if the beast had dragged them about.”

  Nausea filled Aerity.

  Lady Ashley clung to her husband’s elbow and leaned her face against his arm. “It has to stop,” she whispered.

  Aerity agreed. The tales were unbearable. Everything around her felt fragile.

  The king leaned his knuckles against his desk, his eyes shut tightly.

  “Your Majesty.” One of his commanders stepped forward. “The number of men willing to enter the forest to fight the beast has dwindled to nearly nothing. Wives of soldiers are lined at the castle walls during daylight hours, begging for mercy for their husbands, pleading for them not to be forced into the woods.” The man sounded desperate, almost frantic. “The kingdom is petrified with fear. Businesses are shutting down because some fear leaving their homes, even during the day. Some have taken the opportunity to loot. Many are fleeing to the coldlands of Ascomanni or the mountains of Toresta.”

  “Enough,” the king said in a growl. “Everyone leave me. I need to think.” He pushed up and went to the window-lined wall, staring out as the others filed away in silence. Aerity’s mother squeezed her hand before taking her leave. When the room cleared, Princess Aerity walked to her father’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Father . . .”

  He continued to stare out the window, his anxiety obvious. Without looking at her he reached up and gave her hand a single pat.

  “While I’ve been busy, you’ve grown into a young woman. You call me father now, not papa.”

  Aerity’s heart softened. How long had it been since they’d spoken one-on-one?

  “I thought I was prepared for anything. I prided myself on defending this kingdom against rebels and uprisings and foreign invasion. To be bested by a single creature . . . to see my people in despair . . .”

  Her grip tightened on his shoulder. “You’ve not been bested. There is hope. You’re doing all you can, Father.”

  “Am I?” He looked at her now, his watery eyes scanning her face. He ran a hand through his hair, overgrown strands of light red. He was a man in his prime, and Aerity didn’t like seeing his strength frayed.

  “I don’t like being pushed to desperate measures,” he whispered, almost to himself.

  Aerity swallowed back her emotions enough to speak. “Any who know you do not doubt that you act out of love for the kingdom. Always. Do what you must.”

  He stared back out the window until Aerity’s hand fell away from him.

  “Seas forgive me,” he whispered. Princess Aerity left her father to think, having no idea how her own words would come to affect her.

  Chapter

  5

  The castle windows remained tightly locked, denying the rooms and halls of their usual scented breeze, stifling the royal living spaces. That evening when Vixie and Donubhan feigned nightmares, Aerity let them cram into her bed. It left Aerity tired in the morning after being kicked and nudged and snored at all night, but she was glad to be able to comfort them. And their nearness was a comfort to her as well.

  Something had to be done. The entire kingdom of Lochlanach was exhausted. Frazzled. On the verge of self-destruction. If the beast wasn’t caught and killed soon, fear would overtake the lands.

  Fear was a dangerous, unpredictable weapon.

  Princess Aerity wasn’t surprised when her father called a royal family meeting the following day. She wondered what extreme measures he had decided upon, and hoped the people of the kingdom would come to understand and support him. One thing Aerity had learned from being the daughter of a king is that sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.

  They filed into High Hall—even cousin Wyneth, who left her bed for the first time since Breckon’s death. Aerity was proud of her for coming. She forced herself not to pounce on her cousin with affection, instead holding Wyneth’s hand tightly as the older women doted on her, smoothing her curls and flooding her with greetings.

  In order to show her hope for the kingdom, Aerity wore a pale shade of periwinkle blue, her first colorful garment in days, while Wyneth still donned gray.

  The king and queen sat at the head of the long table in their tall oak chairs lined with crushed blue velvet. As a child, Aerity could remember running her fingers along the carved grooves of the chairs where generations of kings and queens had sat before them.

  King Charles’s younger sisters flanked the king and queen on either side with their husbands—the Wavecrests on one side, the Baycreeks on the other. The king was the eldest child and only son. He’d always been close to his sisters and brothers-in-law, and welcomed their counsel.

  Princess Aerity sat beside Wyneth, who still held her hand. Wyneth preserved her tough exterior, but Aerity felt the truth in the slight tremble of her cousin’s fingers.

  On Aerity’s other side was a fidgety Vixie. Across from them were two of Wyneth’s three younger brothers, fourteen-year-old Bowen, and Brixton at twelve. Wyneth’s youngest brother, Wyatt, ran about the expansive space of the hall with Donubhan and their cousin Leo, while Caileen and Merity sat with sketchbooks and fine chalks.

  The clearing of the king’s throat was loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. His face had taken on an ashen pallor, the skin drooping under his hazel eyes. It was alarming for Princess Aerity to see her father in such a state. He set his elbows heavily on the table before him.

  “Never in my reign have I experienced such desperation.”

  Aerity’s heart sank like an anchor to hear the truth in those words.

  “I’ve spoken countless hours with my advisers and officers,” he continued. “I’ve notified the other kingdoms of our predicament, and thankfully no other lands of Eurona suffer such a beast as ours. We’ve no idea where it came from, or if there are more than one, but it must be st
opped. If it continues, or, seas forbid, multiplies . . .” A shiver seemed to ricochet through him. “My men are not hunters. They are soldiers and sailors and watermen. I cannot allow my men to continue being slaughtered and terrified. If I don’t act, the people will act on my behalf. They’ve already begun.”

  Revolt? Aerity’s innards shook at the idea of an uprising. Chaos.

  Lord James sat forward, stiffening. “What do you mean, they’ve already begun?”

  The king’s lips pursed. “In the north village, where one of the murdered fishermen lived, the townspeople went door to door as a mob, looking for Lashed. They found a man with fresh markings . . .”

  “Seas alive, no,” Lady Faith whispered. Aerity’s stomach turned.

  “The Lashed man was ill, could hardly walk. He told them he’d healed a baby bird that fell from a tree, but they were beyond sympathy, beyond reason. They stoned him to death.”

  The queen dragged in a sobbing breath and covered her mouth. Aerity tasted bile as her own emotions rose.

  “He should not have used his magic, aye, but I cannot have people taking the law into their own hands,” the king said with a pained inflection. “I cannot allow senseless killings of innocents in my land.”

  “Have you any ideas what we can do?” Lord Preston asked.

  “One.” Aerity’s father spoke the word in a near whisper. Then he looked straight at her, his eldest daughter.

  Goose bumps rippled in a cold wave across the princess’s skin.

  Aerity’s mother grabbed the king’s forearm in a hard grip and turned toward him, besieging him with a whisper. “Charles, perhaps we should tell her without an audience.”

  Her father eyed her mother. His gaze held something Aerity had never seen before. Something utterly unsettling. Something hardened.

  “You speak of me?” Aerity whispered.

  “Aye,” her father whispered in return.

  “Shall we leave?” Her uncle Preston began to stand.