Stalk the Moon

by Jessica Lynch

  Whoa. I’m actually thinking about sticking around a little longer and I forgot about eating again?

  Oh yeah. This place has got me all screwed up.

  When exactly did I stop worrying about that?

  27

  Before we left his cave, Hephaestus gave us one of his torches with the helpful hint that it won’t go out until morning, no matter what we do to it. The caves are dark, he told us, and there are creatures who brave the mountains and make their homes in many of the abandoned nooks and crannies.

  I wish he hadn’t said that. I would’ve been totally good if he offered us the torch because it was getting closer to dusk by the time we finished eating dinner. A torch is good for navigating the treacherous mountainside as we continue to climb. Knowing that we’re going to still be on the mountains once the sun sets, okay, yeah. I’m definitely Team Magic Torch.

  Worrying about creatures, though? Last thing I needed.

  No, actually, that’s not true. The last thing I really needed? Hunter brooding silently as he guided me away from Hephaestus’s cave.

  At first, I thought he was keeping quiet because of the earlier earthquake. Everything seemed smoothed over with Hephaestus before we left. I only made one more comment about his accent—and it was totally his fault for offering to let us stay over so we could set off again at “the top of the morning”—and, after I apologized, he promised not to blow the top off of the mountain while we were traveling on it.

  And, yeah, I know Hunter’s always been a quiet kind of guy. But this? I know brooding when I see it. Something set Hunter off and it beats me what it could be.

  I nudge him in the side with my shoulder. Because my head comes up to his chin, I hit him square in the bicep. Even through the thick leather cloak, I can make out the hard muscle. I glance down. His hands are fisted.

  “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothin’.”

  That nothin’ sure has a hint of pissiness in it. Glancing up, I notice the scowl before he manages to banish it. I lift my eyebrows over at him. “Nothing?” I repeat. “Really?”

  “I’m focused on findin’ the cave. I need to concentrate. That’s all.”

  All along he’s told me that he knows exactly where he’s going. I don’t buy that excuse for even a second.

  “Mm-hmm. If you say so.”

  Hunter nods. Aside from warning me to be careful about a dip in the path, he doesn’t say anything else. I decide that his brooding is more like a pout. Something is definitely bothering him, and obsessing over what’s bothering him is starting to bother me.

  The rocky patch is behind us. The ledge has actually widened to a point where I don’t think I’m gonna fall if I take one bad step. We’ve passed a bunch of caves, Hunter always careful to keep his body positioned closer to the entrances while I skirt the edge. None of these are “his” cave—and I don’t see a hint of anything to worry over.

  So I stick to worrying over Hunter’s complete about-face.

  Before we met Hephaestus? He was super handsy, with all that “mine” crap. Now? I might as well have caught the plague.

  I slap my sandals against the ground as I stomp behind him. I’m hoping that he’ll tell me to be quiet, or to watch my step. I’m looking for something, anything, so I know that he’s aware that I’m still here.

  Right when I’m about to pick up a pebble and chuck it at his head—let him ignore that—I hear Hunter clear his throat. My ears perk up.

  “You seemed to gettin’ along all right with the blacksmith.” Blacksmith, I notice. Not Hephaestus. Interesting. “I’ve known him a long, long time. I think I’ve heard him say more to you today than in the last couple of seasons altogether.”

  With his back to me, it’s a bit tough to tell, but I think I might’ve picked up on a touch of sulk in his voice.

  Hmm.

  He isn’t—

  No. No.

  Well.

  Maybe?

  I decide to test him. “He wasn’t what I expected. With all your warnings, you made him sound like he was some old, crotchety man, and then you see him and… Wow.”

  Hunter stops dead in his tracks. “Wow?”

  His voice is flat. Moving to his side, I get a peek at his hands. They’re not fisted anymore, but his right one? It’s totally resting on the hilt of his sword.

  Very interesting.

  I purposely keep my tone light. Okay, so I might be torturing him a little. He has it coming, though. It’s his fault for giving me the cold shoulder ever since we left his cave.

  “Oh yeah. For some reason, I didn’t think Hephaestus was going to be so good looking.”

  I’m watching him so closely, it’s super noticeable when the muscle in his jaw tics right at the mention of the other god’s name. Then, when I’m done talking, it’s clear he’s had enough. He turns to glare at me, a fierce look in his eyes that would have me wetting myself if I didn’t already know the meaning behind it.

  Ah ha! So that’s what this is about.

  “You’re jealous.” The words slip out, a small laugh right on their heels. Holy shit. I was right. “You are, aren’t you? You’re friggin’ jealous!”

  “Can’t help it.”

  I’m dumbfounded. “Why the hell would you be jealous?”

  Wait a sec—

  Look, I know I’m tied to Hunter and Alex. Everyone’s beaten that horse to death. But, um, what if I was supposed to meet Hephaestus? Did they have a myth together, too? Sure, Hunter and Alex don’t get along. Hunter wasn’t jealous of my “brother”, though. There’s no denying the green-eyed monster’s got a hold of him.

  I can only think of one reason why.

  “Don’t tell me that me… no, not me, Artemis—Artemis and Hephaestus...”

  A glower darkens his features. “No. If anyone has a claim to the huntress, it’s me. It’ll always be me.”

  I blink in surprise. Okay. Tell me how you really feel, Hunter.

  As if realizing just how possessive he sounds, he dials it back a little. He clears his throat and moves ahead of me, tossing another comment behind him. “Besides, Hephaestus already has a wife of his own.”

  Because it’s easier to deal with that bombshell than the return of Hunter’s caveman attitude, I let selective hearing take over. His first statement? Nope. Didn’t hear it. His second?

  Definitely.

  I scurry to catch up with him. “And she’s okay with living in a cave on a mountain?”

  Poor chick. I’ll admit, Hephaestus’s cave is sort of homey, in a barbarian kind of way. I still wouldn’t want to live there. I don’t know how she does it.

  Apparently, she doesn’t.

  Hunter hesitates, then admits, “She’s not here yet.”

  So Hephaestus is still waiting for his wife. For his story. It’s no wonder his people skills are a little rusty. Hunter’s too. I guess living in a cave—or as an outcast loner in the woods—will do that to you.

  My heart stops.

  Um.

  Hunter’s claim, his unwavering certainty that I’m supposed to be here with him. I thought it had everything to do with the stupid story. What if it does?

  “Oh my god. I’m not your—I mean, Artemis… she’s not—”

  His jaw tightens. “No.”

  Another thought pops in my head. I feel myself go even paler. Just because Artemis isn’t, doesn’t mean he’s never had one—or doesn’t now.

  Holy shit. Three days in and it’s only now dawning on me that I probably should’ve already asked about this.

  “Do you or… I don’t know… have you ever—”

  “No.”

  Phew.

  I rise up on my tippy toes, barely reaching his shoulder. I give it a soft pat. It’s sort of nice that he’s so worked up over the idea of Hephaestus and me, plus my relief that Hunter is single is palpable. The big blacksmith is practically engaged—I think? Hell if I know how that works around here—and, besides, Hunter’s gotta be blind if he thinks anyone
would choose Hephaestus over him.

  “Then everything’s okay,” I say, giving him another pat. “He’s got his own story thing going on. We’ve got ours. He’s got nothing to do with me.”

  Did I think that would set his mind at ease?

  Nope.

  Hunter’s expression darkens again. “You thanked him when we left.”

  I did. “So?”

  “You thanked him.”

  My mouth drops. I yank my hand back.

  My relief is short-lived. Seriously? He’s giving me shit for being nice?

  I can’t believe we’re having this argument. Maybe I shouldn’t have teased him after all, since it’s pretty obvious now that he’s really gunning for Hephaestus all of sudden. For all his chest-thumping and protectiveness, I didn’t really think he was serious.

  Besides, if he had even half an idea how strong my feelings for him have grown over these last few days, he’d be turning tail and running the other way. While he bolted, he’d at least be aware that there’s definitely nothing for him to be jealous over.

  I’m not about to let the stubborn idiot in on that secret. It’s bad enough I have to feel these feelings. To let him know, to give him that power over me while I’m left vulnerable… yeah. Not gonna happen.

  “He fed us, Hunter. That automatically earned him some points in my book. And he actually made this wacko place make a little sense when he explained the whole reincarnation thing.”

  I don’t add that he explained more about the Other in a couple of minutes than Hunter’s done the entire time I’ve been here. No point. We’re both aware of it, and I get the feeling that reminding Hunter might make his head explode.

  I know I’m right when he immediately has another retort.

  “Yeah, and so did Apollo. You didn’t thank him.”

  I snort. “He didn’t deserve it.”

  “Why not? Because he’s your brother?”

  “Because he’s an asshole.” Whatever else Alex is, I won’t budge on that point. Maybe when I’ve forgotten how awful it was to yank the arrow out of Hunter’s shoulder. “Anyway, Hephaestus gave us the torch. He gave us some of his magic. It would’ve been rude not to say thank you.”

  Hunter glares at the torch as if it had called him a bad word. For a second, I think he’s going to lean over and drop the magic flame over the side of the mountain if only because it was a gift from the blacksmith. When his eyes dart to the ledge, it certainly looks like the thought has crossed his mind.

  I set my jaw and shove the torch closer to him, near enough that I singe the edge of his cloak. Phew. The burned leather smells terrible.

  “If you toss that over the side,” I warn, “I’m gonna be really pissed.”

  Hunter grimaces, but I notice he doesn’t glance back over the edge a second time. Instead, with a soft growl, he snaps, “You said he was good lookin’. And pretty.”

  He’s totally jealous. I’m actually amazed. “So? I called you pretty, too. Twice, if I remember right.” Leaning in, I murmur, “Though that wasn’t really fair. You might be pretty, Hunter, but you’re also really, really sexy.”

  “I— wait. I am?”

  I pat Hunter on the chest. He looks so stunned, it’s all I can do to keep back my laugh.

  “Listen, if it was a contest, you’d win hands down. I’m sticking with you, right?”

  His face falls. I see it, but I’m not so sure that I did because, the next instant, he’s got that awful, expressionless mask back on. He shakes his head, like he’s clearing it. “Yeah, darlin’. So long as I find you a portal.”

  That’s not what I meant.

  “Hunter, I—”

  Before I can get another word out, he’s already forging on ahead. His words drift back to me on the still breeze.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout it. C’mon. Night’s comin’ soon and we don’t want to be stuck on the cliffs if we can help it.”

  I nod, even though he can’t see it. When we finally get to this cave, we’re having a chat. I don’t care if there is a portal waiting for me. I’m not going anywhere until we hash this out.

  He doesn’t want to answer me? Too friggin’ bad.

  The cave Hunter stops in front of looks like every other cave on this stretch of the mountain. Its mouth is wide, the inside dark and empty. Since Hunter told me that he used to live in his cave, I look around for some sign of him. I wasn’t expecting a welcome mat or anything like that. Still, the absolute sameness is a little disappointing after all of our climbing.

  “This it?” I ask when he just stands there, watching the cave without a word. I start to move past him. I’ve been dying to search this place for a portal for days. Now that I’ve finally made it here, I don’t want to wait another second.

  He throws his arm out, keeping me from going forward. “Hold on.”

  “Why?” I’m over all of his stalling. But there’s something about the way he was staring into the gloom that makes me a little uneasy. I hesitate. “What’s wrong?”

  “Might be something. Might be nothin’.”

  ‘Cause that’s a real answer. “Hunter…”

  He purses his lips, then quietly admits, “I think I sense something. I don’t know if my cave’s as empty as I left it.”

  Right when I’m about to ask what that means, Hunter’s weird sense is proven to be spot-on. Except there’s not a human squatter in the cave like I first imagine because, trust me, I don’t think it’s even possible for a person to make an enraged squeal like that.

  I almost don’t believe my ears. This is a mountain. I’d expect a goat. Maybe even a mountain lion. But this?

  “Is that— was that a pig?”

  He glares at the entrance to the cave. Rather than mirror my perplexed look, Hunter is ticked off. “Yeah. And it’s in my cave.”

  “It’s his cave now,” I retort. No way am I going in there. I’m good. I grab the edge of his cloak and give it a tug. He won’t look away from the cave and it’s making me nervous. “Come on, Hunter. Let’s go.”

  He gently yet forcefully takes the cloak out of my grip. “Stay here.”

  That’s the plan. I’m staying out here. But Hunter… he’s got to stay, too. When he takes one step closer to the cave, I realize his intention.

  “Are you crazy? Don’t go in there.”

  “It’s my cave.”

  “So? There’s a million other caves. I know because I friggin’ lost count of how many we passed! We can search them for a portal. Let the pig have this one.”

  He doesn’t answer me. My pleading doesn’t change his mind, either. If anything, Hunter looks more determined.

  “Stay here,” he orders again. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He pulls his hood on, wrapping his cloak around his body. Then, taking the torch with him, he strides purposefully into the cave. A snarl fills the air. I expect Hunter to come right out and give up on this stupid idea. I mean, what are the odds his old cave even has a portal? It’s not worth the risk.

  For whatever reason, Hunter doesn’t appear. Another snarl, followed by a high-pitched squeal that causes the hair on my arms to stand up on end. I shiver and wait for Hunter.

  Still no sign of him. After a minute or two, I decide he’s not coming back. But why? I hate not knowing what’s going on in there.

  I shake my head and hoist my bow over my shoulder.

  There’s only one thing left for me to do now. I count to twenty, wish that I had a torch of my own, and follow him into the gloom.

  28

  I immediately realize that I made a huge mistake.

  Creatures. Monsters. Things. Hunter warned me about them. Alex did, too. Even Hephaestus gave us the torch in order to ward off anything we might come across. I admit to myself at this moment that I secretly thought they were all full of it. Since the scorpions, I’ve been told over and over again to be careful—but, except for that guy who tried to spy on me down at the lake, there was never anything to be careful of.

&nbs
p; Until now.

  Holy shit. And I thought the giant scorpions were huge.

  This thing?

  It’s got its own zip code.

  I figured it was something I didn’t want to face when its warning squeal echoed in the cave. Even when Hunter snapped out that it was a pig, something told me that it would be more than that.

  I’m not wrong.

  This cave isn’t as large as Hephaestus’s home which means that it’s about the size of my condo instead of encompassing a football field and a half. The remaining sunlight filters in through the cave’s mouth. That means it isn’t as dark, either. Between the fading light and the brightness of the torch, I can see what’s inside the cave.

  And, boy, do I wish I couldn’t.

  This sucker has got to be at least six feet long, maybe three feet wide, with a monstrous head as big as a beach ball. The tusks look like they belong on an elephant. Bristles stick out all over its ginormous, lumpy-shaped body making it appear almost fuzzy. I have no doubt that they’re prickly and coarse and nothing I want to be touching.

  It snorts loudly. The cave is so chilly that the rush of hot air escapes in a visible puff of smoke. Its mouth is dripping some kind of muck, long strands of slimy goop hanging off of its marked and scarred tusks.

  Pig? Yeah, right.

  Little pink pigs with their adorable curly tails go oink. Monstrous, oversized boars, with bristly skin and pointed tusks, snort and stamp and grunt and growl. He digs at the dirt with his front foot, tossing his head as if already trying to gore us even though there are about twenty feet separating us.

  I gulp.

  This is a big, big mistake.

  “Noelle?”

  I don’t take my eyes off the thing. I don’t know why it hasn’t charged us yet, and I keep my voice down so that I don’t draw its attention over to me.

  “Yup.”

  “I thought I told you to wait outside.”

  He sounds calm, but weird. Strange. It hits me after a second. Between keeping his own voice low and level, he’s somehow lost his accent. That can’t be a good sign. He’s holding the torch up high with his left hand. In his right? He’s got his sword drawn.