by Bec McMaster
Another staggered forward as the first fell, and suddenly all I could see were the pale, bleached bone faces. Dozens of them.
It was enough to clear my head. I turned my arrow upon the one attacking Cas, knowing I couldn't kill it, as it wasn't technically alive.
There were other ways to handle the threat.
My arrow flew straight and true, driving into the hollow eye socket of the skull mask. The draugur screamed, clawing at its eye. Cas turned his axe upon it, swiping low and shearing through its legs. The second it went down, he sunk the broad head of the axe into its chest, cracking open those mossy ribs.
No time to enjoy my handiwork. I surveyed the fight. The first shot had been a lucky guess. Somehow the draugur could see through those hollow eyes. Without them, they were blind.
Arrow after arrow blurred from my fingers. I pinned a draugur's hand to a tree, leaving it vulnerable to a guard. The prince darted among the melee, fighting with expert grace, and I caught a glimpse of him and Cas back to back at one point, before one of the lumbering beasts turned on me.
I had my hunting knife, but I was no match for a draugur at close range. Sinking my last arrow into its nose—a narrow miss—I cast the bow over my shoulder, and leapt up, catching hold of the branch above me. A twist of the hips, and I was in the tree, panting hard at the effort.
Long hands came at me. Scrambling along the branch, I leapt between trees, moving as fast as a squirrel. I could see men fighting beneath me. Men dying. Blood smeared the churned up snow, and the draugur were winning.
Woven from magic, they weren't truly alive, and hence they couldn't die. Our only hope was to hack them into enough pieces that they no longer posed a threat.
Unless...
Wood burned. And I had something that could burn anything.
"Cas!" I jumped back down into the clearing, landing behind him and the prince. "I need your flask!"
He kicked one of the draugur's feet out from under it, his face flashing toward me, before he decapitated it. "What?"
"Your flask!" I yelled, trying to grab it from the belt at his hip. "I can burn them."
Cas ripped the flask free, and tossed it into my hands, before turning and sinking his axe into the chest of an incoming foe. "Hurry!"
Sweat tracked down his dirty face, and there was blood dripping down one of his arms. Draugur didn't tire, but the men were starting to.
I beckoned the guard beside him, confiscating his arrows. Two seconds later I had his shirt too and was tearing it into strips. Hurry... I wrapped one length around the head of an arrow and doused it liberally with the brandy Cas carried. "Keep binding the arrows!" I snapped to the guard.
It was as though the firebird's feather knew what I intended. The enchanted glass vial around my throat suddenly heated, and I ripped it free. The feather burned within, its flames licking the inside of the glass hungrily. I tore the stopper free and tilted the vial.
Liquid fire dripped onto the arrowhead, and the brandy went up with a whoosh. Sinking the feather's vial into the snow, I turned and set the arrow to my bow.
This time I wasn't aiming for the eyes.
The arrow sank into the chest of a draugur, and flames lit it up almost instantly, as if the creature were made of dry wood.
Or perhaps a firebird's flame simply burned hotter.
The draugur screamed and white-hot fire gushed from its hollow mouth. The deer skull fell off, revealing a nightmare face cobbled together from mud, twigs, and moss. It turned and fled like a bonfire on legs. The other draugur around it paused.
"Another," I said, grabbing the next arrow off the guard who was hastily preparing them for me. I could sense the sweat dripping from my upper lip, and the heat coming from the burning arrowhead was almost enough to melt the tip.
Fire whizzed across the clearing. Another draugur went down, and the men cheered. I lit four more of them on fire within the space of half a minute, and suddenly the tide of the battle was turning. Draugur screamed and fled, the burning ones lighting up their fellows in the rush. Heat melted the snow and my face felt hot and tight, as if the skin were about to split. A bush began to burn, and the rest of the draugur turned to escape, stumbling over each other in the process.
Then they were gone, and suddenly there was a new problem at hand.
The trees were bare from the winter, and the timber should have been too wet to burn, but this was no ordinary fire. A birch crackled and hissed as flames trailed their way up its trunk. Another bush blazed, and a lungful of smoke choked me.
There was fire all around me. I'd backed myself against a small cliff, to keep the draugur off my back, and now there was no way out.
"Neva!"
A hazy shape leapt the flames, landing in front of me. Cas. Behind him men were yelling, but the smoke made it hard to gauge what was going on.
"Cas," I rasped. What was he doing? We were both trapped now.
Tearing his shirt off, he draped it over my head, and then swept me up into his arms. "Hold on!"
I could barely see. I couldn't breathe.
We launched through the flames circling me, and then Cas was running. All I could do was press my face to his neck, and hope he knew where he was going.
Finally we burst free of the trees. The oppressive heat was gone; on another day I might have still thought it hot, but after the inferno, this was nothing.
The prince and the remainder of the guards had their backs to the river. Behind us, trees blazed with unholy glee.
The entire forest could go up.
I stared at it in horror as Cas slowly set me down.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," I rasped, coughing a little more. "I didn't expect them to burn like that! They were covered in mud and moss. They shouldn't have burned like that."
Cas cupped his hands and dipped them in the water, holding it to my lips. The yellow in his eyes seemed a little more pronounced. Sweat tracked down his ashen face, and his hair was slick with moisture. "They were going to kill us if we didn't do anything. You saved our lives." His voice lowered. "You used the feather?"
I'd lost it in the madness. My father's one treasure. Tears wet my dry eyes, almost a relief, as I nodded.
Water slid down my throat, washing down the taste of smoke. I knelt at his side and drank thirstily, plunging my hand into the river time after time. We had to move. We had to get out of here. A squirrel raced past me, darting along the shores of the river. Even the animals were fleeing.
But how could you escape a forest fire when you were in the heart of it?
Especially when your legs were weighted like they were filled with lead, and your lungs felt like an oven.
"Is everyone able to stand?" Evaron bellowed, checking over the handful of guards remaining.
Cas plunged his shirt into the river, and wrung it out, draping it over the back of my neck. I moaned. Bliss.
"Where is everyone?" I asked.
His face remained grim, as he knelt at my feet and checked me over for burns. Ash marred the hard muscle on his chest. "The draugur cut down over half the company. This is all that remains."
The prince had been here well before we arrived.
The reality of the situation floored me. "You came back for me."
Cas looked up, his hands softening on my ankles. "Always." His harsh expression softened. "Neva, you saved our lives. I couldn't leave you behind."
He'd been forced to make a choice; follow his prince, or save me. And he'd chosen me.
I reached out and stroked the raw mark along his cheek, "You're burnt."
And here he was tending me.
Whipping the damp shirt from behind my neck, I held it to his cheek gently. Cas closed his eyes, as though nobody had ever tended to him before. Then he sighed. "I'll heal. One of the benefits of being wolvren. Now, can you stand? We need to get moving."
Cas hauled me to my feet, shouldering the pack he'd saved. Of course. His fur would be inside it. Behind us, the trees still smoldered,
but it wasn't the conflagration I'd been expecting. I stopped beside the prince. All of them were staring.
"What's happening?" I asked.
One by one the fires were dying down, as if someone snuffed them out.
Hussar drew his sword, his arm shaking with fatigue. "There's the bitch."
9
Galina strode across the clearing, her red cloak a shock of color. She carried an ash spear in one hand, and she was looking over my shoulder, behind me.
"You are not welcome here," she said in a cold, merciless voice, the words aimed at Hussar.
He kicked one of the packs aside and spat on the snow as he locked eyes upon her. Then a smile split his face, a leer that showed white teeth. "You’ve grown old and weak."
"I’m as old as the forest, and as weak as the mighty oak." Galina tipped her chin up, her silver hair swimming around her shoulders. "Did you think I wouldn’t feel you escape?"
"I find it ironic, you old hag, that these men came here to hunt you down, and brought me the perfect conquest." Hussar breathed in, as if the air tasted particularly sweet. "This one’s heart was dark enough to sing to me, even in my prison. It was no particular hardship to capture him. Perhaps I’ll cut out your heart and eat it myself."
"Hussar?" Evaron questioned.
"It's the firebird!" Hussar bellowed, pointing his sword at her. "Capture her! For the king!"
Galina? My head swiveled between the two of them. But how could—?
"Would you kill the firebird for your king?"
Of course.
No wonder the fires in the forest were almost out. For what creature controlled fire? And it was her fire, her flames... I'd never seen her in the firebird's form, but it was as though she'd been keeping all of the fire within her banked. Now it gleamed in her dark eyes, little licks of flame that reminded me of when I stared into the fire at home of night.
She'd grown taller too, her face thinner and less human than it had been.
I hadn't realized the firebird could shift form, but how better to hide?
Five guardians of Gravenwold had been created, and here stood one of the last remaining guardians. She'd been watching us at every step, trying to take the measure of the company.
And she'd reached out to me, to try and sway me from my task.
Or no, perhaps it had been merely manipulation, to protect herself. For as her humanity melted away, so too did my belief in everything she'd told me. Had the story of Vashta been merely a lie? Had she sensed how much I revered the Huntress, and used it to get close to me?
Successor.... something whispered.
What did she want from me? How could I be her successor? I was human, and she was not.
"The firebird?" Evaron demanded, looking conflicted. "Hussar, she’s merely an old woman."
"Is she?" Hussar turned, and suddenly threw his sword with both hands toward Galina.
The scream built in my throat but I didn’t have a chance to cry a warning.
Galina simply clapped her hands together, and the sword erupted into white flames, so hot the steel simply melted before it could reach her.
All of the men stood taken aback.
But not Hussar.
"Capture her!" he cried. "For your king!"
His words broke some sort of spell. Men drew steel and charged forward.
"The nets!" Another screamed, reaching for the pack he wore on his back, and the spell-dampening nets he carried within.
Lies or not, Galina was still only an old woman.
And what if she wasn’t lying? What if she truly was the last thing standing between us and the Darkness?
"Cas." I grabbed his arm. "We can’t let them do this!"
The muscle in his forearm flexed. I understood his indecision. He was wolvren, and though the men treated him as the prince’s pet, it was clear they didn’t consider him one of their company. "They won’t listen to me."
Especially not when it came to one of the forest’s guardians. The firebird was a creature in their eyes; a trophy. And Cas was barely human to them.
The first two soldiers threw the lead-weighted net. Galina whirled into flames, and the net went straight through her.
Then she reformed with a twirl, her eyes glaring like smoldering coals.
"Useless!" Hussar ripped the bow from his guard's hands, and nocked the arrow, turning in a fluid movement to aim it at Galina.
"No!" I screamed, slamming into Hussar and carrying him to the ground.
He flung me off and I rolled over him, coming to my feet.
"You can't kill her!" I turned to look for Evaron, who was the only person who might be able to sway these men. "You don't understand. She's the guardian of Gravenwold. If you kill her, then the Darkness might wake! It's trapped beneath the forest."
"Neva…." Evaron's eyes narrowed, but I could see he was far from convinced.
I found Cas. "Please. You know when I'm telling the truth. You promised me you'd help. Galina's the only chance we have at keeping the Darkness imprisoned."
"Unfortunately child," Galina said, "that's not entirely true." Her eyes glittered with malice, and she didn't look away from Hussar. "The Darkness is a canny enemy. It's been waiting for men to venture here into the depths of the forest. And you wouldn't listen. You wouldn't turn back. It's been seeping through its prison in miniscule amounts, creeping into the hearts of men already primed for violence. Men with shadows in their hearts. It can sense the hunger and malevolence in a man’s soul from miles away."
Those whispers...
"These men are good men," Evaron replied, and I could see she was losing him.
"Not all of them. Why don't you ask your good captain there what his orders truly were? What did your king demand you do, captain?"
"Hussar," Evaron said, "what's she talking about?"
A muscle ticked in the captain's hard jaw. "She's a liar. She's clearly gotten to the girl. Your king demanded her heart in a jar. Those are my orders."
"Do you have a brother, young prince? One your father favors over you? A younger brother?"
Evaron's shoulders straightened, and I could see the blow he took from her words.
"One your father would prefer to see on his throne in the event this plot fails and he actually dies?" Galina continued. "Why do you think he gave this dangerous task to you? The Crown Prince the common people love? You could die here in this forest. Indeed, I think you were meant to die here—"
"Enough!" Hussar roared. He drew the bow again, his teeth flashing in the night.
But that was not all that gleamed. Something shifted in his irises. His eyes had always been a stormy gray but now they were so dark a brown, as to be almost black.
The Darkness.
It was here.
Evaron took a step forward, "Wait—"
And Hussar released the arrow, his body turning smoothly at the last moment. The arrow hit with a meaty thunk, slamming into the prince's chest. Evaron staggered back, the breath wheezing out of him.
It was the sort of sound I knew I’d never forget.
"Ev!" Cas screamed, catching his prince under the arms as Evaron's legs went out from under him.
10
NOOOO!"
The pain and rage on Cas’s face made my heart catch in my chest.
"Evaron?" I asked, taking a half step toward them.
Cas looked up from where he laid the gasping prince on the ground, his eyes glittering with an intense fury when they lit upon Hussar. "Murderer!"
His eyes became a molten yellow, the pupils changing shape until it was no longer a man looking out at the world, but a wolf. Cas threw his head back, screaming his rage into the night. The sound changed, hollow and full of the sort of echoes that made a chill run down my spine.
The wolf within him was unleashed.
Teeth tore through his bloodied gums, and his spine bowed as the change flowed over him. Without his fur, he could not complete the full shift, but when he reared up, his body had morphed into a h
ideous meld of beast and man. A face full of teeth and yellow eyes, with Cas’s thick dark hair and lashes.
Hussar tore another arrow from the guard beside him; a shocked young man who looked like he didn’t know what to do. Before Hussar could set it to bow, however, Cas slammed into him. Claws and teeth slashing, the pair of them tumbled over and over in the snow, neither of them gaining the upper hand.
"Nev…a…"
The prince.
I slid to my knees at Evaron’s side. Blood drenched his shirt. I didn’t even know where to start, or how to help. Ellie would have known. She thrived on growing herbs in our garden, and often helped the local Wise Woman. But there was the arrow… Buried so deep in his body I feared it had pierced him clean through.
And the only person here who might be able to help was me.
"Don’t move," I warned sharply, looking around. "You! Fetch the packs."
One of the soldiers lurched into action, and then they were all scrambling to help. I used my knife to cut the shirt from around Evaron’s wound. Blood spilled, and I tried to press my hands there to stop the flow, until someone handed me their shirt.
A howl of pain tore my attention away from the prince.
Cas slammed into a tree, crumpling into the snow beneath it. The only man who had any sort of chance against him was Hussar, and Hussar wore the mantle of the Darkness now. Indecision tore through me. Then Hussar lurched to his feet, his throat and chest bloodied, and an enormous gaping wound in his abdomen. I recognized a dying man when I saw one, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous.
And Cas wasn't moving.
"Cas!" I grabbed a soldier’s hand and slammed it over the shirt soaking with the prince’s blood. "Hold here."
Then I scrambled for the nearest sword, knowing I’d be too late. Knowing Hussar could kill my friend before I ever had a chance to get to him.
No!
Hussar hefted his spear, standing over Cas with it raised. "You should have been slaughtered when we first caught you, you little mongrel."