The earth stands still as our eyes meet. Henry’s eyes grow and he steps forward. My knees knock together. Cassia grips my arms, holding me against the trunk, but I’m the only one they can see.
“Come down, sweetheart,” Henry says. “I promise we’ll be nice.”
“Over my dead body,” Cassia hisses, maneuvering on the branch so she’s blocking me. At the sight of her, Henry falters, gripping his machete in front of him.
“Give us the girl and we’ll spare your life.”
“Tell me why you want her and maybe I’ll spare yours,” Cassia retorts. She grabs the collar of my shirt and puts her mouth to my ear. “Climb higher, try to get to the next tree if you can.”
I dig my nails into the bark, sliding slowly across the branch and eyeing the one above. I rise to my feet, slightly off balance in order to reach it. One of the hollowers catapults their machete into the trunk of the tree, causing it to shake. Cassia, balancing on her feet, nearly topples over but catches herself at the last minute. I slip. The air escapes my lungs as I fall through the air.
I land with a thud on my back, my lungs constricting. Two faces blur above, reaching toward me. In my dazed state, I drag myself backward. My attempts at escape are futile, I can barely take a breath after my fall. Henry grips my ankle, but I jut out my leg and kick his stomach. He doubles over, clutching his gut.
“You little brat,” he wheezes. I push to my feet, swaying as the other hollower grapples at my arms.
“Let me go!” I smash his nose with my elbow. His grip loosens and he spins me around before throwing a fist at my face. I duck, but his fist hits the side of my cheek and I tumble to the ground again. Dirt fills my mouth as I drag myself across the earth, desperate to escape the man with a machete standing over me. I don’t know how to fight or defend myself. I’m trapped.
Tears spring to my eyes as the adrenaline burns away and fear sets in. Where are the others? Why aren’t they helping me?
“You’re coming with us,” the man says. Henry stands beside him, still holding his gut. “Whether you’re conscious or not depends on whether you put up a fight.” He cuts my struggling short by pressing the machete against my throat. The cool blade brings rancid memories of Charles standing over me.
“What do you want from me?”
“You’re worth a lot to some very important people,” he says, getting right in my face. “I’ll be honest, I don’t think you’re worth it.”
One second, Henry stands in front of me, the next, his head is swept from his body, decapitated, spurting blood onto the ground as it rolls across my feet. I suck in a breath as Elias appears behind the man—he looks like an avenging angel in the light of the morning sun. “Wrong answer, hollower.”
Before I can blink, the other hollower flies through the air and lands with a thud on the ground, a hole in his chest. Elias stands above them, his arm a sleeve of blood. I choke and scramble backward, eyes wide, stuck on the two fallen bodies that lie before me, the fauna around them stained red.
“Milena.” Elias kneels in front of me, reaching a hand toward my cheek. I flinch backward when his hand caresses my skin, the bone aching at his touch. “I’m sorry I didn’t intervene sooner. I’d hoped they would reveal important information. I didn’t think they’d harm you before taking you back.”
Cassia appears behind him, rubbing her arms, but I pay her no mind. All I can focus on, besides Elias’s red arm, is Henry’s head to my left—and the pungent smell of blood.
“You killed them.”
Elias shows no remorse. He says nothing at first, eyes growing dull. “They would’ve taken you if I hadn’t.”
I know he’s right, but still, bile rises up in the back of my throat. He rises to his feet, wrapping his clean hand around my forearm to pull me up. I collide with his chest and almost forget the red on his arms, the look in his eyes as he ripped a head from its body. But Elias is quick to create space between us, letting go and stepping back. I can’t look at the bodies on the ground. When they look human and act human, it’s hard to believe they’re not.
What could Elias do to me?
Cassia steps forward. “I’m sorry, Elias, I didn’t mean—”
“Come on,” Elias says. “We’re wasting time.”
He turns away and continues forward, the heat of his gaze leaving my body burning. But I can’t look at him. As I step over the fallen bodies on the ground, I quiver in fear. Because for the first time since meeting him, I want to run in the other direction.
Chapter Nine
The closest we ever got to snow growing up was the ice that froze along the roof of the kitchen shack deep in the winter, and the sleet that hammered the windows during the colder season. I always imagined snow to be gentle, but the reality is a lot harsher. The wind howls, stirring the snow up and making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. It cuts into the bare skin of my face and reaches past the tops of my boots, numbing my toes.
The sun is long gone. We’ve been walking for hours and I haven’t breathed a word, mind still spinning at what happened in the forest. Elias tore the man’s head off like it was a weed in the ground. It’s a harsh reminder of the world I’ve walked into.
I’ve spent the last few days coming to terms with the fact that the creatures aren’t who or what I was told, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any truth to the stories. The creatures of the night might not be trying to kill me, but that doesn’t mean they don’t kill.
Cassia walks behind me, Eric in front, and Elias a few feet ahead of us all. Questions swim around in my mind, but I don’t dare speak unless spoken to. I don’t want to shatter the fragile ice I walk upon. The trees thin out as we climb into the crevice between the two mountains, a rocky terrain covered in a mixture of dirt and snow. I step over a branch protruding from the snow but the end of my boot catches and I slam face first into Eric’s back. He moves unnaturally fast and catches me before I can hit the ground.
“Watch your step,” he snaps.
“Sorry.”
He grumbles under his breath and turns around. Ahead, Elias narrows his eyes at me. “Are you warm enough?” I nod.
He weaves seamlessly through the snow to stand in front of me.
“Show me your hands.”
“What?” Instead of answering, he reaches into the pockets of my coat and pulls my hands out, holding them in front of my face. The bottoms of my fingers are white, the tips red. They’re so numb I barely feel the heat from Elias’s fingers.
Cassia rifles through the back. “Let me look for the gloves.”
“You should’ve said you were cold,” Elias says.
“I—” I stop myself from apologizing again. “I didn’t want to slow us down.”
“You’ll definitely slow us down if you get frostbite.” Warmth exudes from his hands as they wrap around mine, his calloused palms rough against my skin.
“Here.” Cassia holds out a pair of black, woolen gloves. “Put these on.”
Elias takes them from her and opens the gloves so I can slip my fingers in. A gust of wind blows the hood from my head, exposing me to the bitter cold. Elias reaches out, hand stopping a few inches away from my face. “Pull your hood up,” he says.
“You’ll lose a lot of heat from your head.” He turns back to Eric and continues moving.
“Come on, Milena.” Cassia hooks an arm through mine.
“We’re almost there.”
I let her tug me. She stealthily guides us over hidden branches buried in the snow. “Is Elias always like that?” I ask.
“Like what?”
I search for the right word. Elias is cold, but there are moments when warmth peeks through his gaze—a warmth that stirs something inside me—but it disappears before I can even acknowledge it. “Distant.”
“Yes,” she says. “Always.” Her expression grows cold and she walks ahead of me so I can’t see her face anymore.
The mountaintops arch around us. Elias slows as we reach the hig
hest point. The chill lingers but the gloves thaw my frozen fingers. The journey up the mountains was steep and winding, littered with trees, but the earth below plateaus into a craterlike dip surrounded by rock walls. Snow covers dead grass, straw-like shrubs peeking through. But it’s mostly barren, and, aside from the whistling wind, dead still.
“Why have we stopped?” I whisper. This can’t be it, there’s nothing here.
Elias turns to Eric. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I thought I heard—” He shakes his head. “Nothing. I must’ve imagined it. Let’s keep going.”
He starts down the steep edge. The snow slides beneath his feet but he manages to remain steady. I take the same steps Cassia leaves imprinted in the snow to avoid hidden roots, only much slower. “Are we here? I thought there was a village.”
She offers me a hand from where the ground flattens, steadying me over a significant drop. I land in the snow with a thud.
“Ana lives alone up here.” She nods over her shoulder. On the other side of the crater, two rocks arch together to create the mouth of a cave that swallows Eric and Elias.
Trudging through the snow after them, we reach the entrance.
The darkness is impenetrable; my shadow melts into the walls.
“Someone lives here?”
Up ahead, a fire sparks, creating a backlight for two dark shapes. We move toward them. The wood in Elias’s hand burns, hot ribbons casting shadows along the jagged rock walls. The pathway is wide but low so Elias has to crouch slightly so as to not hit his head on the ceiling. Small, loose stones scatter the floor, echoing against the dense walls when disturbed, but it’s a welcome change from the snow.
The darkness eases as we round the corner, a bright glow emanating from the end of the cavern. I duck my head around Elias’s, trying to make out what lies before him. The path comes to an opening, but it barely resembles a cave. The end is a bulbous shape, widening to stretch around the corners. A worn rug covers the expanse of the floor, dirtied footprints marking a path to the narrow passageway opposite us. There’s a bed in the corner beside an old rocking chair, and crumbling bookshelves stretching all the way to the ceiling line the two walls. The only light comes from a single lantern string running along the ceiling on a thick wire.
“This is it?” I ask, shuddering. It’s freezing inside. “Where is she?”
Elias walks forward to run his finger along the bookshelf, disrupting the dust gathered along the wood. He seems relaxed, unconcerned. “She must’ve gone out for something.”
I sneak my head around the corner, wishing I could borrow some of his courage. Despite the fact that I spent over half my life in underground tunnels, the cave suffocates me, like the walls will buckle inward and trap us.
“Wait here in case she comes through the back,” Elias instructs.
“Eric and I will have a look around outside.”
A small stream travels through the cavern, no exit visible. I turn to the bookshelves as Eric and Elias wander away, leaving us in a dull light. The bookshelves are covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust, like nobody has been here for a while. The passageway on the other side is much narrower than the one we came through, and dark. “Where does this lead?”
“Probably deeper into the mountain,” Cassia says. “There are lots of springs around here, and Ana would need a water source close by.”
“Have you met her before?”
“No.” Cassia is settled in the rocking chair, boredly inspecting her hands. “I’ve only met the elders on the coast. But I’ve heard a lot about her.”
“The coast? How far away is that?”
“A four-day run for me. For you, much longer.” Charles never said anything about a coast. I always just imagined the trees stretching on forever, and beyond the mountains, I wasn’t sure.
But I never planned on having to find out; I never thought I’d venture much farther than the tunnels underground.
Eyeing the books on the shelf, I walk the expanse of the room.
It’s even smaller than the room I grew up in, and much more cluttered. But despite the freezing temperature, there’s something cozy about the decor. I lean against the wall, back to the passageway. My finger grazes the book closest to me but before I can put my hands around it, a sharp point presses into the center of my back. I freeze. A mouth presses to my ear. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
Cassia leaps up from the rocking chair, body in a low stance as she swings around to face us. The dagger at my back pierces the skin. “Ana?”
“Who’s asking?”
“My name’s Cassia and that’s Milena.” Ana’s grip on me doesn’t loosen. “We’re here with Elias. We came for your help.”
“Elias is here?” She pauses, still holding me close but the pressure of the dagger eases. At that exact moment, Elias and Eric come around the corner, freezing when they catch sight of us.
Cassia grabs me; I turn to face Ana. Her appearance is deceiving and speaks nothing of her strength. Her body is hunched over and frail, long, gray hair braided down her back to reach her waist. She hobbles forward, and Elias moves to meet her. She reaches up to embrace him, her body dwarfed by his. And when she pulls away, she swipes a hand tenderly across his face. “I didn’t know you were visiting.”
“I didn’t have time to send word,” Elias says, pulling away.
“Where have you been? It’s freezing down here. You haven’t been using the fire I set up for you.”
She waves a hand. “Sit down, you must be tired from the journey.” Against his will, she forces Elias to sit on the edge of the bed, before moving over to Eric and wrapping her arms around him too. Then, she turns to me. “My apologies for our encounter, I don’t usually have unannounced visitors.” I force a shaky smile, still on edge. “You’re human?”
“I am,” I say.
Ana smiles warmly as she examines me, curious. “You must be freezing, dear. Sit down so I can make you a warm drink.”
I settle in the rocking chair. Ana turns her back to us and kneels down to the hole dug into the stone, igniting the fire and then placing a pot full of water over it. “We came because we need your help,” Elias says. “We’ve had issues with the hollower colony.”
“What do you mean?”
“We think they’re trying to complete the immortalia sacrificium.
She pauses, two mugs in her hands, and turns to look at him over her shoulder. “That’s impossible. They’d need a shifter, a human—”
“And a wisper, we know,” Elias finishes. “And for some reason, they think Milena here is a wisper.”
She looks at me, intrigued, and begins to pour water into the first mug. “What makes you think that?”
“They raised me and tried to kill me on my twentieth birthday, a few days ago.”
She stands up suddenly, her cup dropping and shattering on the ground, shards of glass spreading out around her feet and steaming liquid seeping into the rug laid across the floor. Elias leaps to his feet and grabs her arms to keep her from stepping on any of the fallen shards. “You okay?”
She looks frazzled, her wrinkled hands shaking. “Yes, I just lost my balance for a moment there.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods firmly. “I’m fine. Leave it, Elias, I’ll clean it up later.”
After she’s settled back on her chair, he gently brushes the shards into his hand and discards them in a pile by the wall.
I shift uncomfortably, because Ana won’t look away from me.
“You lived with the hollowers?” she asks me.
“They caught me a couple of nights ago,” Eric says. “I noticed they had a human living with them and thought it was strange.”
“We decided to leave it to see what they would do with her,”
Elias continues. “Cassia kept an eye on her to make sure she was all right, but they tried to kill her a few days ago. And hollowers have mentioned the immortalia sacrificium.
”
Ana doesn’t say anything, pulling her gaze from me and looking at the floor. “Elias said you might know something,” I say.
“About the sacrifice, or why they might want me.”
“Elias is mistaken.” Her voice is low and quiet. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
I look at Elias, whose frown deepens. “But—”
“Did you cover your tracks on the way here?” she asks, standing up from the chair and looking at me. “Hollowers have been getting closer.”
“Not this high up, no,” Cassia says.
“I’d best go do that,” she says, standing up and patting down her dress. “Elias, would you help me? Would you three mind cleaning up here? Feel free to go through my books but I doubt you’ll find anything helpful.”
Cassia frowns and Eric narrows his eyes, but neither of them protests. Elias stops me with a hand on my arm. He reaches beneath his coat and into the waistband of his pants, and holds something out to me: a silver, sheathed dagger.
“You should have some way of defending yourself,” he says, wrapping my fingers around the hilt. “Just in case.”
And then they walk away. I slip the dagger into the thick pocket of the coat, and turn to Eric. He’s watching me. “I don’t know how to use this.”
“The hollowers didn’t teach you how to fight?”
“They taught me how to cut vegetables, I wasn’t allowed to hunt.”
“If you can, always go for the jugular,” he says, gesturing to his throat. “If you must stab, use as much force as you can and aim for the stomach, direct the dagger upward to the heart.”
“The throat or the stomach,” I repeat. “Right.” This is my life now. I have to know these things.
I slump into the chair, deflated. I’d placed all my hope in getting the answer from Ana, but she was so cold, so adamant she didn’t know anything more than we did. I don’t know where we’re supposed to go from here. “Should we help them cover the tracks?” I suggest.
“It’s snowing, they’re already covered.” Cassia looks at Eric.
“Was she always so strange?”
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