Havenfall

by Sara Holland

  But whatever she’s going to say is lost when an earsplitting clap of thunder from outside rattles the windowpanes.

  It snaps me back to myself, and I yank my phone from my pocket, look at the time. 5:33. Shit. The hunting party—we were supposed to convene in the entrance hall at 5:30 sharp.

  I look at the Heiress, pouring all the coldness and authority I can muster into my voice. “I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

  “Madeline!” Her retort is sharp, but it fades into nothingness behind me, because I’ve already turned on my heel and walked away.

  The sun is usually rising by now, but the heavy clouds prolong the night, so all we can see outside is fog and the raindrops splitting against the windows. The Silver Prince is the first person I see when I skid into the entrance hall. He’s pacing along the far wall, a small flame dancing above the palm of his upraised hand. As he walks, he twirls the flames around his fingers like a one-handed cat’s cradle.

  “Maddie,” comes Graylin’s voice from my right. He hurries toward me and deposits two objects in my arms. A chain mail shirt, I realize, lifting the heavy thing by its metallic sleeve. And a Fiorden revolver, carved with snarling wolves. Graylin already has one strapped to his hip, and I see the glint of metal under his fur cloak. Around the room, Willow, Sal, and Enetta are also donning armor and weapons. The beautiful antique side table with pearl inlay, the one Annabelle was said to have treasured, is piled with guns and swords and knives. It’s silent except for the rain and clanking of chainmail, dark except for the torchlight that makes shadows dance along the wood-paneled walls.

  Once everyone is dressed and has their weapons strapped on, Willow makes the rounds, handing us each one more thing from a cloth pouch at her waist. A Byrnisian whistle, sleekly carved from what looks like onyx.

  “We’ll split up in the woods to cover more ground,” she explains, raising her voice just enough to be heard above the rain. “The gravity barrier has likely stopped the Solarian from leaving the grounds, so we should expect to find it. But whoever does, they are not to attack the beast alone. Blow the whistle, and the rest of us will come to aid.”

  Fear roils my insides as Graylin opens the front door, and the rain and wind and sound of distant thunder gust into the hall. Outside, against the dim not-quite-dawn, the pine trees dance frantically in the wind.

  Graylin catches my arm as I go to file out, the rest of the group already spreading out over the lawn, shadowy figures disappearing into the rain. “Maddie,” he says, voice rough from lack of sleep. “You don’t have to do this. No one is expecting you to.”

  “I know.” I smile at him as best I can and walk outside, flinching at the freezing rain that immediately splatters my face. “But I’m not doing it for anyone else.” I’m doing it for Havenfall.

  Graylin and I part ways on the lawn, and I don’t let myself stop and think, but plunge straight into the trees. I can do this.

  I know these woods. Brekken and I played here as kids, too many hours to count spent dodging between the trees, turning sticks we picked up off the ground into swords and wizards’ wands, chasing squirrels and pretending to be Byrnisian warriors after a squall-storm, or crouching very still in the undergrowth, imagining ourselves Fiorden hunter-warriors. I’ve spent days alone out here trying to catch glimpses of foxes or deer, wandered the grounds after dark to see a meteor shower or the night-blooming Byrn flowers Willow planted in the woods.

  I have never, not once, felt afraid here. But now I am nothing but fear. It crawls under my skin, feeling like it’s going to burst free any second, changing the familiar shapes of the trees and bushes into shadows strange and threatening. At least the overhang of leaves stops most of the hail. Small animals scuttle through the undergrowth and the distant shouts wrap around me as thunder shudders my bones. I listen for a whistle, but the woods seem to swallow sound, like a stone sinking through water without leaving a ripple.

  The woods are dark, the light level more like twilight than sunrise with the swollen gray rain clouds. I cut in the direction of Mirror Lake, so that the ground slopes slightly downward under my feet.

  And something blue flashes up ahead of me. As my head snaps up to look, my foot catches on a root and all at once I’m sprawling, hitting the ground hard on my ribs and elbows and rolling. The carpet of dead leaves and pine needles absorbs the blow, but not by much, and stars burst in front of my eyes as the back of my head slams into the earth. A coppery taste fills my mouth as I roll back around and heave to my feet, grasping for the whistle and blowing it. The shriek cuts through the air, blasting my ears.

  Another flash of dark blue through the trees, and terror spills through me. It’s here.

  I stagger backward. Hail spatters the ground around me. The blue flash was maybe twenty yards away. My hand flies to my waist but I feel only my belt, the sheath light and empty. Where’s my revolver?

  I see it lying on the ground to my left, just as the Solarian bursts into view up ahead.

  It roots me to the ground, the sight of it. And shockingly the first word that pops into my head as the Solarian freezes ten yards away from me is beautiful. It has a long, tiger-like body. Shifting muscles under fur the blue-black-gray color of an arctic ocean. Eyes like flames.

  Lots of things that can kill you are beautiful. A high cliff. A lightning strike. A freezing cold night on the mountains.

  That doesn’t change the fact that this is the same kind of monster that dragged my brother away, leaving me and Mom nothing but blood on the floor and my life snapped in two. Before, after.

  The beast and I lock eyes. I can see the intelligence there, the cunning. It’s faster than me. Bigger. Stronger. It could rip me in half if it decided to.

  It’s not moving now; maybe it doesn’t think I’m a threat. That gives me a chance. Just one small sliver of light. Shoot the thing. Get everyone the hell inside.

  Fear weighs me down like ice. Tells me I can’t move, that I’ll die if I do. But there’s nothing else for it, no one else in sight. And besides—this is my job. This is what Marcus would do, anyway. If he sent people out into the woods after a monster, he would lead them. He would fight.

  I take a slow, deep breath, careful to make it silent, not show my body moving. My blood roars in my ears, blotting out all other sound.

  I dive for the gun. I hit the ground hard, but my fingers close on metal. I twist to see blue and flame bearing down on me.

  Aim.

  Shoot.

  The Solarian’s scream drowns the echoes of the gunshot. It’s the same scream I heard from my bedroom that first night, but now it’s right there, and the gun clatters to the ground because I’ve clapped my hands over my ears. I can’t stop myself. But the monster is already gone, crashing a path through the underbrush. The scream is gone, but echoes bounce through the trees, inside my head.

  I sit up shakily. My ears ring and my chest aches and my blood races through me so fast I feel like it’s going to jump out of my skin. But after a few seconds, everything around me is silent. The woods are still, all life fled or hidden.

  Until Graylin bursts from the shadows and stops in front of me, knife in one hand and revolver in the other. His alert gaze sweeps the clearing and lands on me on the ground, and his eyes widen. He sheathes the weapon and kneels next to me.

  “What happened?” he asks, taking a moment to blow the warning whistle. His eyes scan me from head to toe, and I know he’s checking for injuries.

  “I—” My voice shakes. I scoot backward to sit against a tree and stay there, trembling, my hands clutching air. I strain my ears for more distant screams or movement. “I shot the Solarian, I think.” Scared it off, but clearly didn’t slow it down.

  It’s okay, I tell myself, knowing I’m lying to myself, but it’s all I can do with the adrenaline still rushing through me. Someone else will finish it off. And besides, my ankle throbs—I must’ve twisted it and not realized—and my ribs ache when I gingerly prod at them. Bruised, or even cracked, I ca
n’t tell. It’s not like I could have given chase, anyway. Shock and exhaustion push my fear down to a low, muted buzz—ever-present, but not overpowering—as I pull myself together and Graylin loops an arm around my shoulders. I don’t strictly need help, but I’m glad for his closeness on the way back to the inn.

  When I stumble out of the woods, I see that Sal and the Silver Prince are under the gazebo with a couple of the security guards, Ricky and Kara. They’re all looking at something, their backs to us, and I give Graylin a worried glance as we head over.

  My heart drops when I see what they’re looking at—who they’re looking at, sitting on one of the damp benches with her head in her hands, her blond braid trailing over the shoulder of her jacket.

  Taya.

  “Hi there,” she says weakly.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt out.

  The Silver Prince steps forward, looking furious. His jaw is tight, his silver hair shining with rainwater. “I was on my way to respond to the whistle when I ran into this servant,” he spits, and I cringe at the word. “She claims she was out walking in the woods.” He looks hard at Taya and then from me to Graylin. “Did either of you see it?”

  “I did,” I say shortly, not wanting to think about my failure to take the Solarian down. After I let it get away, it found Taya—it must have been sheer dumb luck that the Prince was there, and it didn’t kill her. “I shot at it, but I guess not straight enough.”

  I feel sick as everyone looks at me and I try to figure out how to do damage control. I told Taya to quit it with her midnight strolls. But I also lied to her about why—that stupid mountain lion story which she probably saw right through. Why did I expect her to stay in when I hadn’t told her about the real danger?

  Taya and the Silver Prince lock eyes, which only makes me feel worse.

  “I just saw the Solarian down by Mirror Lake, so it must be close,” I say to the Prince, trying to break the tension. “I’ll handle Taya,” I add, not needing to fake the glare I shoot her way.

  “Inside.” I turn to her. “Come on, it isn’t safe out here.”

  She nods, mouth pressed into a thin line. Suddenly I realize how oddly she’s sitting, hunched over with her left arm in front of her. How she’s slow to stand. She’s hurt. But she doesn’t say anything, just falls into step beside me as we walk back toward the inn. Fear climbs bitterly up the inside of my throat as we walk. I offer an arm, but she shakes her head, jaw set.

  “I’m fine. Just need to sit down for a bit.”

  “What are you even doing out here?” I ask her, shaking rain out of my eyes. “This isn’t a midnight walk, more like a midnight swim.” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but it’s hard. Her inability to sit tight like everyone else at the inn just made me look like an idiot in front of the Silver Prince. Like I can’t even keep our staff inside for a few days, much less run the whole inn.

  “Looking for the Solarian.” Her eyes flash defiantly, cutting off my argument before I can make it. “And I found it.”

  “What?” Shock pulls the word from me. “How do you even know about that?”

  “I put two and two together. It wasn’t hard.” Irritation and pain mix in her voice. “You told me the door was open and that there was something dangerous on the grounds. I can shoot. I can fight. I want to help, even if it got me first this time before running off. You promised to help me find Terran. I can help you with this.”

  I flinch at the memory. It seems like a dumb, empty promise now, in the daylight. Why did I promise Taya to help get her brother back when everything is falling apart around me? Will we even live that long?

  “But you’re hurt.”

  Taya nods, not meeting my eyes. “I guess I do need to work on those shooting-and-fighting skills.” She pulls her jacket closer to her body. “I’d say it’s just a scratch, but unfortunately that’s not actually the case.”

  I still catch a glimpse, a mess of shiny red at her shoulder, and my stomach drops.

  Wordlessly I take the lead, steering her inside to a heated back porch that Willow has converted into a temporary infirmary. The healers must still be outside. From the porch, we can see the town of Haven laid out beneath us like something out of a toy train set, untouched by the storm. It looks strange to see the sun on the distant buildings while thunder still shakes Havenfall’s foundations.

  Taya sits down on one of the white-blanketed beds, clutching her shoulder and staring hollowly out the glass walls at the valley and the town below us. I go to the cabinet to get the first-aid supplies, my stomach clenching. I wonder what she’s thinking. Probably she’s wishing she’d never come to the inn.

  All I wanted was to get away, get out of Sterling, spend my summer hiking the mountains, dancing in the ballroom, studying with Marcus, kissing Brekken. And now everything is so screwed up, and I can’t see a way to make it right. One bite at a time, Maddie, I tell myself. Fix Taya—that’s all I can do right now.

  Fix Taya. Kill the monster on the grounds. Close the Solarian door. Wake Marcus up.

  She slides off her jacket as I approach, and I stop dead, all the blood rushing out of my head.

  It’s worse than I thought. Way worse. It looks like something has taken a chunk out of her shoulder. The whole arm and upper back of her blue T-shirt is stained red, and I think I can see the white glint of bone somewhere in there too. The first-aid stuff clatters to the ground as I reach out for the couch to keep me from falling. The world spins a little. Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t eat breakfast, because it would be coming back up now if I had.

  “Oh,” Taya mumbles, looking down at her shoulder. “That’s … I didn’t realize …”

  A tumble of swear words falls from my lips. “You didn’t realize your bone was sticking out of your shoulder?”

  How did she even walk up from the woods? This isn’t a matter for antiseptic and stick-on bandages. I can’t just stitch this up. She needs to go to the ER. But no, I can’t send her away without giving her forgetting-wine first. And no way I’m doing that in her current state.

  Still cursing, I yank my phone out of my pocket and stab at Graylin’s icon, hold it to my ear while I pace.

  Ring … ring … He’s probably still out in the woods.

  “Hey.” Taya’s voice is soft and slow, her eyes sluggish as they follow my movements. “How come you got to keep your phone?”

  “Innkeeper’s niece, remember—”

  But then Taya’s eyes flutter and she slumps to the side. I rush over and drop beside her, propping her up against the headboard before she topples into the bed, shuddering as I feel the warm slickness of blood on my hands.

  Keep it together, Maddie.

  She sags against me, then blinks in confusion and straightens up.

  “Sorry,” she mutters, her voice far away, drifting. “I don’t know what happened.”

  Graylin hasn’t picked up; when the call goes to voicemail, I hang up and try again. This time I get him.

  “Maddie? Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I say. “I’m in the infirmary with Taya. She was hurt by the Solarian. Could you help? Or send another healer?”

  A pause. “So just to confirm, you’re not hurt?” Graylin asks.

  At another time, I’d roll my eyes, but right now there’s no room in me for anything except worry for Taya.

  “My ankle’s a little messed up, but I’m fine. Can you please hurry?”

  I hang up and rotate to face Taya, keeping a hand on her arm as I do, trying to ignore the blood under my palm. We can’t both faint.

  “Help is coming,” I tell her, feeling horribly ineffectual. “I need you to stay awake until then.”

  Her eyes are lidded. “So-lar-i-an.” She draws out the word, lingering over the strange syllables. “Why do you call them soul-devourers?”

  “Because that’s what they do.”

  I don’t want to talk about that, don’t want to think about my close call or how the monster is still o
ut there. I stick some pillows on either side of her. She’s getting blood all over the bed but that doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. Needing to move, I get up and rush to collect the scattered contents of the first-aid kit. I can at least get her ready for the healer.

  I return to her side and sit down carefully again, not missing how Taya sucks in her breath as the mattress shifts beneath her. I look her over, swallowing to get my dizziness under control. The Solarian’s bite has ruined her T-shirt, shreds of fabric clinging to the wound with dried blood. I need to clean it out, I realize distantly.

  “I think I have to cut your shirt to clean this out,” I say, trying hard to keep the hysteria out of my voice. “Is that okay?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to disinfect—”

  Taya shakes her head once, and then winces at the movement. “Not that. That’s fine. I meant why do you think the Solarian wants to kill us?”

  I chew my lip as I take the scissors from their plastic case. “I guess it’s hungry.”

  “What if it just wants to be left alone?” she mumbles.

  I ignore this, taking Taya’s arm and extending it as gently as I can, but it still makes her jaw flex and her lips thin as she holds back the pain. “I’m really sorry.”

  I cut from the hem of her sleeve to her collar, careful to avoid her braid and the soft skin of her throat. The back side of her shirt flops down when I make the final snip, exposing a black bra strap and a dusting of freckles on her shoulder blade, but the front side stays where it is, glued in place by blood.

  The copper smell threatens to send me back to Mom’s kitchen, Nate’s blood spreading over the floor, me useless and helpless in the cupboard. But that’s not me anymore. I’m not a child—I can’t be a child about this, for Taya’s sake. I bite the inside of my cheek to chase the faintness away and unwrap gauze and antiseptic.

  “The Solarian beasts are intelligent,” I tell her, mostly to give myself something to focus on besides the blood. “I know that much. Brekken said they have all sorts of wild technology in their world. Maybe they see us as so far beneath them that there’s no difference between us and deer.”