Again, Vilnjar insisted upon taking first watch, but Finn was wired. He lay down and tried to calm his mind, but his thoughts raced and circled inside it like a dog chasing its tail. Most of those thoughts were so fleeting he couldn’t even grasp onto them long enough to make sense of them, but they were all somehow related to Lorelei. Eyes closed, he tried to let her heartbeat lull him, but not even that could calm the frazzled edges of his nerves.
After about an hour and a half of hopelessly tossing and turning, he got up and told his brother to rest. Viln started to protest, but Finn eventually pushed him into acceptance, explaining that he was wasting time someone else could use to actually get some rest.
Finn kept close watch on the northern road, which wasn’t really a road but a narrow passage they’d left behind them as they traveled. He watched spiraling swirls of snow lift over the tracks they’d left, dancing back and forth as the wind shifted course.
From time to time he allowed himself to watch Lorelei, who’d fallen into sound sleep even as she shivered. Hugging her arms close to her body, she was wrapped in a tattered cloak he’d taken from Krestof’s dead body and only a small glimpse of her thin oval face and bright red hair were visible from beneath the hood. Tilting his head, he watched her lips, tinted blue with cold, twitch and curl over silent words, as if she spoke to someone in her dreams, and then she sighed, rolling first onto her back and then her other side, facing away from him completely.
For a week, all he’d thought about was her, never stopping the process long enough to consider how unnatural that instant bond he felt to her seemed. Before she’d fallen across his path, his mind had been open and free, every day an unplanned adventure he lived to wake up to. Now the adventure was Lorelei. His mind was preoccupied with constant thoughts of her. How would he protect her, keep her safe and alive on the dark road ahead? His heart beat only for her and the hope that one day she would feel it too. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and when he closed his eyes all he could see was her face, all he could hear was the soft sound of her voice whispering his name.
Shaking off those thoughts for a moment, he wondered if the intensity of his need for her would loosen its grip once she recognized the bond between them, while the greater part of him still worried it never would. Many of the survivors in Drekne had lost their mates during the War of Silence, just like his mother. One by one those left behind by death slowly faded and perished, graciously rejoining their lovers in the Eternal Hunt.
Would the two of them ever hunt together, roam the wilds in search of prey? The dormant wolf beneath her skin stirred the beast inside him, but she was so far away he felt like he couldn’t reach her and it pained him more deeply than any other hardship he’d ever felt.
Something external disturbed his reverie. Snapping his attention from the tangle of his own thoughts, Finn perked up his ears and listened to the silence. Vilnjar stirred, lifting his head groggily from the ground and turning over his shoulder in question.
“Did you hear it too?”
“Aye.”
He’d barely spoken his response when a single, distant howl stretched long through the miles of silence they’d already put behind them. They both understood the meaning of that howl, a signal from one hunter to the other that the trail had been picked up. Without even thinking, he shot from his crouch and began shaking Lorelei from sleep.
Jerking awake with a start, she sat upright with a gasp, her eyes wide with fear and lack of recognition as she attuned her sleepy mind into the world around her.
“What is it?”
Gripping the wool fabric of her cloak in his hand, he helped her to her feet. “We need to move, Princess, and I mean really move.”
“Why?”
Finn didn’t need to answer. Another far away signal answered the hunter’s call, two short yips followed by a long bay.
“They’ve found our trail,” he told her. “We cannot linger.”
Gulping down her fear, she grabbed her pack as she nodded frantic understanding and slung it over her shoulder. Tucking her sword back into its scabbard, she darted toward the road, the long trail of grey wool rippling behind her like tattered, flapping wings.
Viln steered them away from the road, traveling through the dense thicket and frosted trees beside it in hopes their scent would be lost again, or at the very least disguised by the heavy fragrance of pines. The only advantage they had was the distance they’d already put between them, but wolves on the hunt were fast, and it would only be a matter of time before that distance was lost.
For hours they ran, racing wildly against the harsh wind, gasping lungfuls of bitter cold air that made breathing a chore. The morning sun disappeared behind a wall of thick, grey clouds, and it wasn’t long until a haze of spiraling snow covered their tracks before they barely finished making them.
When they’d first set out from their camp the mountain range they were aiming for was little more than a visible shadow on the horizon, but it loomed closer with every gaping step, growing taller and more ominous by the minute. The jagged, white peaks seemed to hold up the stormy sky, almost disappearing completely within a swirling veil of gusting white.
Finn was used to running, and for a man his size he cut through the dust quicker than anyone else he knew. Making sure he was able to stay ahead of the game was the only way to keep himself out of trouble when he was up to no good, and while trouble may well have been his middle name—according to Rue—he certainly managed to always come out on top of it. He didn’t have a single doubt that whatever adventure awaited him on the other side of the looming mountain would be any different. They just had to get there.
The thickening trees slowed Lorelei down and several times he had to remind himself that she couldn’t keep up with his pace. His legs were longer, his strides further apart. Had he been alone, he could have easily thrown the hunter’s off his trail, but for once he had more than himself to think about. He held himself back a little to keep her within reach just in case he had to make a quick grab for her.
She hadn’t complained though, not a single utterance about being too tired and sore to move another muscle, not even when she pushed through a cluster of trees and the needled boughs lashed at her cold cheeks and left bloody scratches across her skin, or when the hood of her cloak caught on a branch and nearly choked her before she could disentangle it and move forward. Her determination, her will to survive pushed her against her own self-imposed boundaries, and though he swore he could feel her inner-turmoil, her doubts that she could go another step further, she carried on.
Finn’s lungs burned with the cold, every breath expanding like fire as he panted in quick bursts. The winds shifted, blowing in strong off the coast and lashing their hair across their faces as tiny pellets of icy snow settled in to dampen the fabric of their clothes and hair, and he knew that once they ascended into those mountains it would soak through and chill them to the bone, but that didn’t matter. Not yet. First they had to get there, and he couldn’t worry about it until they did.
Lorelei tripped and stumbled, her bare hands shooting out in front of her to break the fall. Skidding across the cold, hard ground beneath her, a soft cry of pain stuck in her throat and she instantly rolled onto her back in an effort to get back up. Her boots dug in, slipping through the thick, heavy snow, and Finn felt the subtle increase in her already frantic heartbeat as panic and fear battled with despair inside her. She’d been struggling between the two high-end emotions since they started running, the little heart inside her chest racing so furiously he felt like his own heart might explode just trying to keep up with it.
He ducked back and knelt down to help her to her feet, but she was dead weight when he tried to lift her and he immediately feared the worst. She’d given up so easily before, and even though she’d apologized for that tantrum, what was to stop her from giving up again?
She was already tired of running, and the running had only just barely begun.
If she gave
up, their day would never come, nothing he’d fantasized about since he’d met her would transpire. The day she trusted him enough to tell him what she was afraid of so he could protect her. The day she fell into his arms and laid her head upon his chest because she simply wanted to be near him. The day she finally looked up into his eyes and knew exactly who he was.
“Come on, Princess. Now isn’t the time to take a rest.”
“We’ve been running for hours.” She gasped and struggled to breathe, that moment of stillness allowing the pump of her blood and heart to finally catch up with the grueling pace of her body. “I can’t run anymore,” she protested.
“Yes, you can,” he jerked her to her feet and stood her in front of him, hands gripping her shoulders and holding her steady. “You have to. We’re almost to the mountain, see. Just a few more steps and we’ll be there.”
Vilnjar doubled back to join them, his jaw ground tight in frustration as he barked, “We don’t have time for this.”
As if in answer to his obvious announcement, the wolves on their trail bayed in unison, three sharp howls piercing through the wind and closing the gaping distance in his mind. They were close, their sleek bodies made to charge and cover long stretches on foot in order to catch up with sure-footed prey. The longer they stood there catching their breath, the closer they grew to becoming prey, and as up to the challenge as the beast inside him was feeling, Finn knew if anything happened to him or his brother his princess was as good as dead.
Shaking off that thought before it could sink in too deep, Finn ignored his brother’s tone and squeezed Lorelei’s arms in his hands to jolt her from the state of despair. “I know this is hard, but we are almost there, look.” He let go long enough to gesture toward the mountain. It was close, but still so far. At least three miles, another hour of running.
“And when we get there? What then?” she shouted above the rising wind.
“They won’t follow us.” Vilnjar interjected.
“Once we’re on the mountain road, we can slow our pace until we find a safe place to take refuge for a while.”
“They were sent to kill us, Finn, to make sure we never made it to Rimian.” She tried to pull out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go. “They aren’t going to stop following us just because we touch the mountain. No safety barriers are going to come up behind us to hold them back when we reach those stones. It’s not a game of tag played by children.”
Part of him knew she was right, and Vilnjar knew it too. His brother stood beside them, shoulders stiffly squared, chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. “So we keep running.”
“How far?” she shot back. “For how long? It’s been hours and I can’t go on. My head is throbbing. I can barely breathe out here and the colder it gets, the harder it is to draw breath. Surely, you feel it too.”
He felt it, his lungs burning with the cold until his chest felt tight and heavy, and the closer they’d come to the mountain, the thinner that air began to feel. They’d been moving upward the whole time, gradually, but surely. He didn’t even want to think about how cold the air in the mountains was going to be, how difficult it would be to breathe as they climbed and searched for the passage.
“They’re going to catch up to us eventually.”
“So what? You just want to give up?”
Her eyes widened a little, their dark amber color flashing in the last light of the dying sun, and then she shook her head. “What if we fight them?”
She was so serious Finn almost didn’t believe her. Vilnjar actually laughed, a throaty, sarcastic chuckle that did less than he’d obviously hoped to dissuade her from her train of thought.
“How many of them could there be. I’ve only heard three, and there are three of us.”
“Hunters usually run in packs of five,” his brother spoke up. “In total there are fifteen in Drekne, and there are another five in Breken. If the council wants us dead, then we have no idea how many of them Cobin called in to carry out his justice.”
“When did Cobin have time to plan such an elaborate murder scheme, Viln?”
“He had five days before she woke to plot this.”
Finn didn’t allow that simple truth to discourage him. “Those hunters were dispatched when we left Drekne. We were with six guards at the time, guards who were probably there to make sure we laid down and let the hunters tear us to shreds.”
“And what do you think those hunters did when they came across the bodies we left scattered on the road? They went into Breken and gathered more to aid them in their task.”
“I’ve only heard three.”
“Just because you haven’t heard them, doesn’t mean they aren’t out there, Finn.” There was authority in his tone, a rigid righteousness that would not be dissuaded by their conjoined madness. “And right now we’re standing still, wasting time arguing about it as they draw closer and closer. We need to move.”
“But what if she’s right, Viln? What if there are only three of them?”
“Three of Cobin’s most brutal killers,” he pointed out. “Hunters like Rue who have spent their whole lives practicing the art of tracking, hunting and killing for the survival of the pack. Even if there are only three of them, we are two wolves and a scared little girl who can barely even hold a sword. Whatever she is, whatever happened back in Drekne, Cobin took it as a threat and he wants her dead. I think it’s far more important that we figure out a way to keep her alive, don’t you?”
Finn struggled with the logic of Vilnjar’s proposal. He didn’t want anything to happen to Lorelei, but he knew she wasn’t going to make it over the mountain with the hunters hot on their trail—even if there were only three of them. What good would all their running do if it killed her?
“I’m worth at least three wolves, and you know it, Viln.”
“And I am not a little girl,” she shouted, shoving back from Finn and lowering her hand to touch the hilt of the short sword on her belt. She drew it, the blade trembling as she held it up to show him she could hold it just fine. “How hard could it be to shove the pointed end of this thing into an enemy?”
“In the heat of the moment, harder than you might think,” Vilnjar sneered.
“I don’t want to die,” she told him. “I may not know much, but I do know that.”
“Then you need to run.”
“You can run if you like,” she started, looking between the two of them with certain madness in her eyes. It was a look Finn recognized, one he’d seen staring back at him from his own reflection more times than he could count in his life. “But I’m done running right now. I’m tired of running.”
“Finn,” Viln looked to him with desperate pleading. “Do something about her.”
“No, Viln,” he shook his head. “She’s right. We can keep running, but they’re not going to stop hunting us until we’re dead. They’ll follow us into the mountains, running us so ragged we won’t be able to fight back, and who knows what else we face in the mountains, on the other side. Trolls, goblin hordes. If we stand and face them now, we at least have what little strength is left to us in battle, not to mention the element of surprise. They won’t expect us to be waiting for them, and when they come we give them a fight to remember.”
“You are both clearly out of your minds.”
“Maybe,” Finn shrugged, a tentative smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he turned back to look at Lorelei. She was terrified. He could feel fear pumping through her heart with every gasping breath, but she was determined to stand despite it. For a moment she really was a princess, and not the spoiled, tantrum-throwing type, but the kind of princess who was born to be a queen. “Are you with us, Viln? Or are you going to run?”
“What kind of choice is that?” His brother huffed frustration. “If I don’t stand with you, you’ll both die.”
“That’s the spirit, brother.”
He left Viln to contemplate that for a moment, and drew Lorelei aside to show her how t
o bash with the shield she carried, to throw a charging enemy off balance with a good stagger, but there wasn’t time for more practice with her sword. Besides, she was nearly half his size, and what worked best for him would never work for her. “You’re small,” he pointed out, “You’ll be able to move quickly, so do your best to stay out of reach and if anyone corners you, just stab.”
“She’ll break her arm that way.”
“I’d rather break my arm than have it torn off,” she surmised.
“That’s good enough for me.” Finn nodded once and turned over his shoulder when the howls of their enemies entwined with the wailing wind. They were closer, so close it would only be a matter of minutes before they arrived.
“If we’re embracing the beast, we need to get to it.”
Finn nodded agreement and turned to face Lorelei. “I need you to listen to me, okay.” He touched her shoulder gently, tilting his head and lowering a meaningful gaze to meet with hers. “When I transform, I don’t want you to be afraid. Even in that form I’ll know you, and I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“I won’t be afraid,” she stiffened a little, her lower lip trembling when she spoke. “The wolf saved my life once before.”
“And now I’m gonna do it again,” he smiled.
“If I don’t save yours first.” When she grinned at him, he swore every part of him melted, and it was that warmth that stayed with him during the painful transition when the beast within overtook his body.
She kept her back to them when he and Vilnjar stripped down to their skin, their sweat-damp clothes instantly stiffening in the snow without the heat of their bodies to keep them from freezing. His bare feet tingled and burned as the melting cold seeped into his bones and rose up through his calves and thighs. He swore his knees were knocking together, the brothers shuddering and shivering until their teeth chattered in their skulls as the bitter wind nipped at their naked skin.
Edgelanders (Serpent of Time) Page 25