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Edgelanders (Serpent of Time)

Page 18

by Jennifer Melzer


  Looking into the woods where Finn had disappeared, it felt like he’d been gone too long. Was he plotting something? Had the brothers shared some unspoken plan she wasn’t privy to? It wouldn’t surprise her in the least. She may not have known Finn very well, but she was beginning to understand why his people kept calling him mad and reckless. Everything he did seemed a direct reflection of his physical size. He had big ideas, a big mouth… Gaze lingering long on the darkened pathway leading into the woods, a slow smile drew at the corners of her mouth as she thought he must have a really big heart too. He’d done everything in his power to protect and comfort her, a stranger.

  And he had the most intense and beautiful eyes she’d ever seen.

  The thought alone was enough to make her heart flutter in that strange way it had been doing since she woke in the healer’s room in Drekne. A double thump, almost as if she had two hearts beating inside her chest. Her cheeks warmed, and for a moment her head swam just enough that she almost swayed on her tired feet.

  Vilnjar took a step nearer to her and glared over at the two guards hovering close when one of the men cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes in warning. “I’m sorry I never brought the food I promised you earlier. Well, I did bring the food, but it was too late and I couldn’t find you. By the time I did… I guess I’m more sorry that you didn’t get to eat it.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “You must be famished.”

  She had moments where she thought she was hungry, but then the thought of food would make her feel ill and queasy. The stress and anxiety surrounding every moment since she’d open her eyes seemed to have gobbled up her hunger and replaced it with nausea. It would return eventually, but when it did she imagined nothing would sate it.

  She felt surprisingly comfortable with Vilnjar. After all, alongside his brother he was one of two in the dwindling list of people she felt were on her side. Though at first she wasn’t so sure about that. He’d been kind enough, even if she could see in his eyes he didn’t quite know what to make of her when he first came strolling into her room to send Finn to find Rhiorna. She barely knew either of them, but circumstances were about to change that. It seemed they were to spend the last of their days together in a frozen wasteland. There would hardly be time to get to know each other at all if even half of what Master Davan told her about Rimian was true; they’d be dead within a fortnight. Then again, Master Davan was becoming a less than reliable source in her mind.

  “Not really.” She hiked up her shoulders, wincing a little as the shackle on her left wrist dug into the skin. “I could do without these shackles though.”

  Vilnjar gave a soft laugh. “You and me both.”

  Their attention was drawn away from one another by the mutterings of the two guards that had been escorting her all the way from Drekne, one of them wondering how long it really took a man to take a piss.

  “Knowing that little whelp, he probably couldn’t find his prick,” chortled the older of the two as he nudged into his companion. The shared a good laugh over their jest, but it was quickly cut off by Finn’s reply.

  “Finding my prick isn’t generally something I have a hard time with.” He stepped out of the trees alone, the chain stretched taut between his wrists, but his escort did not linger in the shadows at his back. “Ask Godon. He was in the hall the other night when I came busting through the doors stark naked. He’ll tell you how hard it’d be to lose something that big.”

  Lorelei felt her face grow warm, but his joke did not amuse anyone.

  “Where is Krestof?” The air immediately shifted, tension tightening everyone’s muscles as he stalked casually onto the road.

  “He had to take a piss. Didn’t want me leering over his shoulder after I was finished. Said it made him feel like less the man after standing next to a giant.”

  “You left him out there alone?”

  Fear.

  Lorelei felt it prickling through the sparse hairs on her arms beneath the thick wool of her cloak.

  “He’s a big boy,” Finn shrugged. He seemed to realize they were scowling at him because he grew almost defensive as he said, “Hey, I was just doing as I was told. Besides, what’s there to worry about out here? We’re on our own land. We are nowhere near the border. Who’s going to bother with a few straggling U’lfer on the road? If anything, there will be a parade of townspeople between here and Rimian, on the lookout for a glimpse at the first exiling since the War of Silence ended. Unless there’s something else we should be worried about. Something… dangerous?”

  The guard nearest to him swallowed so hard Lorelei actually heard it, and she glanced in his direction with wide, wary eyes. “There’s nothing out here to be afraid of, is there?”

  The guard behind her stepped past her and squared his shoulders. “Nothing out here but us wolves.”

  “Yeah, see.” Finn hiked his shoulders up again and cast a look in Lorelei’s direction. He was up to something, she could feel it simmering inside her, starting low in her gut and bubbling upward until her heart began to flutter inside her chest. She didn’t like the way it felt, had experienced just about enough strange heart flutters to last her a lifetime. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Then where is Kres?”

  “Probably cutting a small stream through the woods, judging from how long he’s been pissing.”

  “You think you’re so clever, Finn.” The guard stalked toward him, his right hand twitching on the worn scabbard of his sword. “Always playing games, making jokes.”

  “I am pretty smart.” A slow grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  Lorelei jumped a little when she felt Vilnjar behind her, his cuffed hands touching the small of her back as he leaned into her ear and whispered, “Stay close, girl. You’re about to find out why they call my brother mad.”

  “And what’s wrong with a good joke every now and again?” Finn went on. “Laughter is the cure for all that ails you. My mother used to say that all the time. I’d fall down and skin my knees, and she’d tell me to laugh away the pain.” Throwing back his head with a dramatic flair, echoes of roaring laughter reverberated off the trees. The display threw them off guard, the five of them trading wary glances that distracted them long enough for Finn to attack.

  It all happened so fast, Vilnjar pushing her out of the way and bellowing for her to take cover near the trees before he charged into action with his brother. She’d never seen anyone move the way the two of them did, Finn swinging a silver chain in one hand and an axe in the other. He spun into a well-practiced dance, wrapping the chain around one man’s neck while burying the axe in another’s face. Without even wrenching the axe free, he yanked the other man into reaching distance and started to choke the life from him.

  Vilnjar leaped onto the back of the guard closest to him, chains circling around his throat until his eyes bulged and his face became the most startling shade of dark purple in the pale light of the distant moons. Strangling him until the last hint of life faded, he dropped the body with a feral grunt just in time to circle around and bash his clenched fists into the face of the man charging toward him.

  The fifth man started to run, frantically darting into the brush on the side of the road they’d just walked. She stumbled earlier when they were walking, and that man had kicked her before dragging her back to her feet and shoving her forward again. Seething at the thought of him escaping his fate, Lorelei figured there was no time like the present to start taking matters into her own hands. She charged from the shadows Vilnjar shoved her into and barreled straight into the guard’s chest. Her sudden appearance caught him off guard, and he stumbled backward into the dirt with a surprised gasp, but not before grabbing onto her and pulling her down with him. Battering her bound wrists at his chest, they rolled and tumbled in the fray, but she was too small and he soon overpowered her.

  They rolled in the cold mud, Lorelei kicking her feet and grunting as he pinned her into the earth and pressed the heavy weight o
f his body down hard to hold her steady. He loomed over her, seething with every breath he drew, bits of spittle flecking through his dry lips and splashing her face.

  “You think you can stop it you little half-bred whore?” He laughed, his eyes flaring with unnatural light until the brown flashed bright gold. “They’re coming for you, and when they get here they’re going to tear you apart and feast on you like a starving man at a banquet. You’re already dead”

  Every muscle in his body grew rigid as he stretched backward. In the sparse light of the moons filtering through the treetops, she watched the cords and veins in his neck pulse and fatten with blood. He was changing, his body thickening and growing, the sound of his breath ragged and stiff as if the transformation his body were about to undergo brought immense pain. Bones and sinew stretched and popped and the hands pinning her shoulders to the ground clenched deep into her skin. His grip was so hard and forceful she felt like her bones would snap. She whimpered a little, writhing violently and kicking her legs to try and throw him off, but she was too small and he too strong.

  “I think I’ll have the first bite.” Throwing back his head, she watched coarse hair sprout from the pores along his neck, extending into the gaping neckline of his shirt and spreading upward along his face until there was nothing human left about his appearance. His jaw and nose elongated, forming a gaping muzzle filled with thick, needle-sharp teeth that promised pain.

  Lorelei screamed, the sound of it raw as it burned through her throat. Her balled fists hammering against his chest and legs kicking, she rammed her knee upward to wedge it between his legs, forcing a guttural and inhuman yelp from the beast. The sharp nails of his clawed hands burrowed into her flesh and then suddenly his head was gone. A spray of warm blood flooded across her face as the tight clench of his fingers loosened and his heavy body fell forward to crush her beneath it. Blood gushed over her, soaking into her clothes and rolling strangely over her skin.

  Her shrill terror sliced the night like a scythe through grain. Body thrashing inhumanely, Finn reached in one-handed and wrenched the dead wolf away. He tossed the headless creature aside as if it weighed less than a small sack of potatoes. Holding a hand down to help her up, she saw Vilnjar’s warning in Finn’s eyes. Their white-blue intensity glowed unnaturally, droplets of blood dripping down his long face, smattering his cheeks and lending a terrifyingly mad quality to his features.

  “It’s all right,” he promised. There was huskiness in his voice that both intrigued and frightened her. It sounded animal, not unlike the voice of the man who’d almost devoured her moments ago. “They’re gone, all the guards are dead, but we haven’t been alone on the road since we left Drekne. We’re being hunted. We’ll have to move now.”

  Vilnjar appeared over Finn’s left shoulder, the sweaty locks of his dark-brown hair hanging in his face and fluttering against the exhale of his ragged breath, his hands still hanging bound at his waist. Finn’s fingers wiggled a little, a silent urge for her to take his hand, but Lorelei only regarded it for a moment.

  “You killed them,” she said, as if in a daze.

  “I had to.”

  “But why?” Her eyes stung with unshed tears, the severity of the situation finally catching up with her panic and nearly overwhelming her.

  “Kill, or be killed, Princess.” He quirked his left eyebrow into an arch, a slight wound above the eye glistening black with fresh blood. “That’s the kind of world we’re living in now.”

  “We’re being tracked,” Vilnjar intervened. “A pack of hunters on the road behind us plotting an ambush. If Finn hadn’t taken action, we would have been slaughtered and those guards would have just stood back and watched it happen. They may have even helped.”

  “But why?” She choked on the same question she’d asked just seconds before. “Why does everyone want me dead?”

  “They’re afraid of you.” Finn dropped down to crouch in front of her, still holding out his hand. “Afraid of the changes you will bring to our people.”

  “I haven’t brought anything to your people!” she shouted, the shrillness of her voice echoing through the quiet trees, and that still didn’t explain why Trystay had wanted to kill her.

  “Like it or not, they’re your people too.” That revelation stunned her into trembling silence long enough for him to lean in further, the reach of his hand extended close enough to touch her if he wished.

  “You brought me here,” she shouted. “I didn’t choose to come.” She hadn’t chosen, at least not in the traditional sense. She’d just started running as fast as she could, following where the light of the moons led her.

  “I know,” he said softly. “I did bring you to Drekne, and maybe that wasn’t your choice, but…”

  “But nothing! I just want to go home,” she wailed. “I want to sit in the garden with my sister and smell the flowers, listen to the birds and watch the clouds make shapes in the sky. I want to eat cakes and have tea and daydream about the future.”

  She knew that was never going to happen again, that it wasn’t Finn’s fault her entire life was shattered and broken, but a part of her wanted someone else to suffer the way she was suffering. He’d been so kind to her, so gentle, and when it came down to it she knew he’d saved her life several times already, but what was that life worth to her if she couldn’t even choose the path she had to take through it? It wasn’t fair.

  “I know.” Finn nodded understanding. “I know you want to go home, and maybe I can get you there one day, but right now we need to move forward if you ever want to go back.”

  “Go back? Go back where? I told you what happened to me. I told you what he did.”

  “What is she talking about?” Vilnjar looked between the two of them for answers, but neither Finn or Lorelei gave them.

  “I have no home. No family. I have nothing, Finn. Less than nothing.”

  Tilting his head thoughtfully, the long tendrils of his thick black hair fell across his face. “That’s not true, Princess.” He drew in a deep breath through flaring nostrils. “You have me.”

  “Okay, enough of this, whatever it is. We’re running out of time.” Vilnjar’s voice was edged in impatience that only served to make her feel more angry and distraught. “The hunters are close, and no doubt they’ve caught the scent of blood on the wind. We need to put as much distance between us and them as possible if we want to make it to Rimian alive.”

  “Lorelei, I know you’re scared, and after everything you’ve been through I understand that, but I need you to trust me.” He stretched his hand closer to hers in a gesture of good faith.

  Trust and faith.

  She’d trusted Trystay, had faith in the promises he’d made to her and where had that gotten her? But Finn was different, wasn’t he? He had no reason to lie to her, or did he? Anything was possible. She couldn’t chance it.

  Shaking her head, she looked away from his pleading eyes and said, “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  “No,” she insisted. “I can’t and I won’t.”

  “All right then.” He gave a single, solid nod and pursed his lips before withdrawing his hand. “If you don’t know what’s good for you, then I’ll just have to take charge until you figure it out.”

  Finn reached in quick and grabbed her with both hands, rising fast and slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He charged forward while she kicked and wiggled against him, her knee connecting several times with his ribs, but he didn’t even feel it. “Sorry, Princess, but you’re going to thank me for this later. I promise.”

  “Put me down!” she roared. “Right now, you put me down or I’ll… I’ll scream.”

  “Nope.” He started walking, his long strides bouncing through her and jostling her over his broad shoulder. “And if you do scream, I’m gonna have to gag you.”

  “Finn, just put her down.” She looked up through the tangled curtain of her hair and saw Vilnjar jogging to catch up.

  “And risk her runni
ng off to her death in the woods? No way.”

  “We can cover twice as much ground if we all move of our own accord. Carrying her is just going to slow you down. This is no time for a temper tantrum. Surely she understands that.”

  “She won’t slow me down, will you, Princess.”

  “Yes, I will!”

  “Barely weighs a thing. She’s light as a feather.”

  “I’ll bite you,” she warned.

  “Is that a promise?” He chuckled, hoisting her up a little higher on his shoulder. “Come on, Viln. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to throw those hunters off our trail. The keys to your shackles are in my pocket, but you’re gonna have to get them yourself. I’ve got my hands full.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hunters.

  They were one of the few stipulations woven into the Edgelands Proclamation that permitted the U’lfer to embrace the wolf. A strong pack of well-trained wolves who tracked and hunted for enough food to feed the entire village, but Ruwena confirmed they were trained to do more than just hunt for the survival of the village. They were the only line of defense, and while their numbers may have been few, the hunting pack from Drekne was not to be trifled with under ordinary circumstances, but his sister was one of their most valuable assets. Without Rue leading the pack on the hunt, throwing the wolves off their trail would be much easier. There was still a chance they would be caught; there was always a chance.

  He shouldn’t have had time to dwell, but with Finn preoccupied carrying the temper tantrum throwing princess who’d gotten them both exiled in the first place, Viln had little else to do but think. Part of him almost wished they hadn’t imprisoned his sister. She was angry enough with him she would have gladly taken up the task of hunting him down just so she could tear into him with her rage. And she had every right to rage. His decision had been poorly thought out and in making it he’d committed an unspeakable act. He’d broken one of the promises the two of them made to their mother while on her deathbed.

 

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