***
They were nearly down the mountain when Garrick’s hand flew into the air and halted the trek.
Instinct had always been one of Sebastian’s strengths. He reached for his pistol while curling his free hand around the basket-hilted blade, lifting it a hair from its sheath.
No way of knowing what made Garrick so cautious, but there was no reason to discount him now. He’d brought them this far.
Barely.
Morning chipped away the night, leaving the sky a lighter shade of dark. The forward path was dense with trees that would block out the daybreak as soon as they traveled ahead.
If Raven was near the lake, she would be easier to find. They had to assume she was resourceful, and thus would’ve slipped into the forest for evasion.
He hoped she wasn’t that smart or able, provided she was alive at all.
Garrick’s hand continued to hold them in place, his head turning to try and catch some distant noise in his eardrums. If the she-wolf was alive, she would’ve smelled their descent long ago, so the hunter’s foreboding was over something else.
"There." Garrick’s voice was flimsy.
The mountain’s base was swallowed by the tree line, and the path through the forest before them was streaked with blood. The men armed themselves at the sight, stepping with caution over spilt intestines that stretched across the forest floor like uncoiled snakes.
A horse carcass lay beyond some trees; its underbelly gashed and pulled so wide that the animal’s remaining anatomy was in clear view.
Further along came the severed head of another.
“Someone wants to keep us here,” Garrick said.
“How can she be alive?” Panic traced Timothy’s words.
Garrick shot him a look so angry that Timothy swallowed any additional gripes. The hunter ground his jaw and grabbed a fistful of the kid’s frock, yanking him close.
“Give us up again and you’ll think Ritter got off easy.” He pushed the kid back and said nothing more.
Sebastian felt numb while staring at his animal’s remains. Temper, named for his tumultuous attitude, had served him well, carried him long and never quit when it mattered. As such, he ate as well as his master, and whenever a town offered the service, Sebastian paid to have him groomed and comforted.
An animal’s respect was often mutual, and much too difficult to acquire.
As such, he was going to kill the one responsible for this.
Garrick ordered a change in direction, following the trail that took them toward the lake. As they reached the beach, the water looked like rippling crystal beneath the rising sun.
Timothy and Sebastian went to work on finding a trail, but there was nothing beyond a few animal hoof prints. Those that got thirsty in the night and came here for a drink.
Garrick walked along the mud and his boots suctioned with every step.
“She’s here,” he said. “I feel her…”
“Possible that she drowned, ya?” Timothy said.
“That’s right, pup. Thank you for volunteering for a swim so you can answer that question. Sebastian and I will circle around the lake and look for tracks while we await your conclusion.”
Timothy looked defeated, but they had agreed up front to follow Garrick’s commands to the letter for as long as they remained in his employ.
The kid pulled his clothes free while Sebastian searched the trees around the lake and Garrick headed down the muddied beachfront.
If only they could’ve been more efficient last night, they would have been in the throes of a celebratory hangover now.
Sebastian paused in front of a downed log and dropped to one knee. It was scuffed by drying mud from the sole of a boot. Not much, but all there was to go on. The girl had gone over the edge nude, meaning that someone else had come this way, and recently.
The outermost crust of mud was still moist.
A few steps away he found another half-print in the dirt. He sidestepped the track and ducked below low-hanging branches to find another. This one was a full-on boot print pointed in the direction they had just come.
Someone carried her off.
Sebastian hurried back to the waterfront where the kid was only now diving beneath the surface. Best to let him search so they could rule out the notion that Raven had drowned. He wanted to be wrong about the tracks, anyway.
Timothy reappeared and brushed wet, straggly hair from his face. He shook his head once he noticed Sebastian watching. Then he gasped for air and slipped back under.
She wasn’t there. Someone had ridden to her rescue just in time, slaughtering their horses so they couldn’t follow.
He waited for the kid to come up for air once more so that he could get him out of the water. Garrick was further along the shore, by the rocks, waving his arms back and forth. The silver vambraces on his wrists caught the sun as he motioned for their attention.
Timothy reappeared with a deep gasp and Sebastian waved him out. The kid used his cloak to dry off before reaching for his shirt that was now the color of London pig shit.
They reached Garrick, who wore a face of panic as his eyes danced around the surrounding trees.
“I should have seen it,” he said. “When we attacked last night, one of those creatures howled at the moon…a cry for help.”
“How do you know?” Even now, Timothy had to challenge.
“Because it’s being answered now.”
A figure wrapped in a red robe glided out from behind some trees—its face hidden by the hood covering its eyes.
Timothy lifted his blunderbuss but Garrick whispered at him to stop.
“There is more than just one,” he said.
Sebastian turned to find that the hunter’s instincts had been correct. Two more approached from the beach. Each robe was a dark stain of crimson. Black rope belts cinched their waists. Their steps were Sunday calm, their garish appearances unnerving.
When he turned, three more of them had appeared and converged from all sides.
These were the tracks he’d seen.
He reached for one of his pistols.
“Don’t do it,” Garrick said. “We’ll not be shooting our way out of this.”
“I’ll be damned if I’m surrendering,” Sebastian growled and took aim.
“The only way we’ll survive this day is if we do exactly that,” Garrick said and tossed his weapon to the ground.
Sebastian couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but watched the hunter lift his arms to the sky and step away from the others, allowing for the thief-takers to make their own choices.
The hunter intended to live through this.
Timothy’s face dared to hope that Sebastian had an escape plan. Some type of strategy the kid hadn’t yet considered. Sebastian didn’t relish submission, and hated to disappoint his understudy even more, but sometimes there was nothing to do.
If giving up meant there was a chance of escaping down the line, what choice did they have?
“Put it down,” Sebastian said and threw his weapon beside Garrick’s.
***
There was commotion beyond her eyelids, bustle that returned her consciousness.
Elisabeth’s eyes fluttered. She coughed dirt off her tongue and rubbed her throbbing head.
A broken piece of tree ebbed against her skull. Her shoulders remained submerged in the lake, and one side of her face scraped against beach mud.
How had they missed her?
Her skull protested that kind of heavy thinking and her muscles were lit with regression’s fire. Fingers traced the length of her would-be fatal wound beneath the gentle water. It was already closing. The most inconsequential of scars now.
Wandering fingers darted up to her jaw, pushing her mouth around in a circle to assess the damage. The bleeding had stopped, leaving an open scab on the side of her face. She rolled onto her back and crabbed out of the water, arching as the sun’s glare stung her watery eyes.
Breathing was hard, moving har
der.
In this state, she doubted she could take the rest of them. She massaged her temples until the throbbing rescinded just a notch. Was it possible they believed her dead?
They have to know I live.
Elisabeth pointed her nose at the sky and attempted to sniff them out. The cursory exploration of terrain offered nothing that suggested they were any closer. Another aroma entirely fastened itself inside her nostrils: squalid graveyard odor.
She heard a groan in the distance, an unmistakable expression of pain.
It took all her energy to sit up in the muddy basin, steadying herself on the palms of her hands. The mud attempted to swallow them as she focused.
Another moan came across the lake, and then shuffling feet.
In spite of everything that happened, Elisabeth smiled.
Those fools left me for dead.
Their presumption must’ve been that she’d succumb to the damage. That would be their undoing. Could the familiar one be so careless? Hadn’t he the desire to see this through?
“No,” she muttered. Her voice was a gravel-laden rasp that barely registered as human. “He is not that stupid.” Best not to presume anything. Just because she didn’t sense them didn’t mean they were gone. Humans were resourceful animals. Once they were no longer controlled by fear, their survival instinct knew no limit.
These humans killed Aetius.
Thoughts of him came back, each one bringing emotional shudders. Her head jerked and she wretched all over the beach. Tears welled at the bottom of her eyes but she wouldn’t wipe them. To mask these emotions, to pretend they were nonexistent, would be an insult to him. Reveling in misery was the only way she could grieve.
He deserved that, at least.
Life didn’t feel worth living without him.
On that mountaintop last night, entwined and dripping with sweat, they’d discussed their future. Nightfall, their own kingdom on high. A life of solitude. It was the first time since being a human child that she felt like things had gone in a direction that she truly wanted.
If only she’d fought harder to defend it.
Instead, she’d been arrogant. The assault was a blur, but Elisabeth couldn’t stop scrutinizing her actions. Had she wanted to see Aetius fight to defend her honor? It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but she wondered if it had motivated her.
Self-loathing was more powerful than the unending sobs, all of it a very human gesture of weakness. One she wouldn’t fight, but resented all the same.
Her arms curled around her knees and she buried her face between her thighs as the tears fell.
She was alone now.
And angry.
***
They were forced to march, surrounded on all sides by red cloaks.
The forest brush was thick enough to scrape their cheeks and rake their heads. Their captors wouldn’t speak a word. They had confiscated their weapons through silent gestures before closing in around them, ebbing them along.
Sebastian and Garrick exchanged glances. Looks of the how in the name of Christ are we getting out of this variety. The hunter seemed unsure and Sebastian’s confidence was only slightly higher.
It was a hostile walk. They were shoved if their pace slacked and cracked across the back of the head if it happened again.
The six cloaks wore their hoods low enough that their faces were concealed. Even their exposed chins were draped in shadow. Chapped leather gloves covered their hands and steel daggers were tucked into their belt ropes.
At least one of them was a broad. Sebastian had taken a balled fist to the face for staring too long at the sunken jawline and almost attractive, pale lips. Even her antagonistic grunts were feminine. Almost pleasant.
I’ve been out here too long.
The pace became grueling, the three of them forced to keep step with their aggressors. They moved hurriedly for reasons Sebastian couldn’t guess.
Timothy groaned. He kept on even once his feet scuffed the ground with fatigue. The kid and the witch-finder were younger men, but the point of exhaustion had long since passed them all.
Still they went, with wobbly legs, dry mouths, and droopy eyelids. The sun’s intermittent rays poked through the treetops. Sebastian’s forehead was damp and his fingers tingled.
This is a death march, had been his first thought, but if the cloaks had wanted them dead they could’ve done it at the lake. No, they were being driven toward a specific destination. If Garrick was right, and these captors had answered the varcolac’s cry for help, they would be answering for their crimes very soon.
“We must stop.” The woman’s voice sounded slight.
The red cloak on point froze at the sound of it. His half-glance back seemed stunned that it was one of his own who had violated the treatise of silence.
She didn’t wait for permission, reaching out to touch Sebastian’s shoulder, easing his stride. He didn’t protest, having been struck by that very hand earlier. She stepped close, revealing thin strands of yellow-grey hair bunched at the back of her hood. Her lips curled and the tips of two pointed teeth stuck out from the top gum line.
“This is a waste of time,” the leader said.
“Dearest Codrin,” she said. “Are you in such a hurry to make a name for yourself that you would be this rash? A waste would be if this man dies before we make it home.”
“I want them exhausted.” Codrin’s voice matched her weakness.
“You think them livestock. Don’t be a fool…”
Codrin turned and his hood pulled with the sudden movement, offering a glimpse of the man beneath it. Only he didn’t look like a living man. His skin was grey and sunken, with hollow sockets for eyes that only hinted at life. His chapped and discolored flesh seemed more natural in the company of buzzing flies and bending maggots.
Garrick, who was closest, recoiled at the sight.
“Never condescend to me.” Codrin said.
“Then be smarter.” She offered this simply, as if it were the only possible response. “They are no good to us dead.”
Codrin’s laugh was more of a hiss. “These men are professionals.” He took a handful of Garrick’s robe and rubbed the fabric between his fingers. “They have survived worse than us.”
“It is not him I worry for,” she said. Her fingers were wrapped around Sebastian’s wrist. “This one will die if we push him further.”
“You’ll say anything to get your way.”
“I do not care who delivers them. I only care that their blood is pure. This one’s heart cannot hold at this pace. If he dies here, then he will be an empty husk by the time we supply him.”
Codrin looked to the sky as the October sun disappeared behind a puff of storm clouds. In a moment, fresh rainwater came rolling down off the overhead greenery. Garrick and the kid didn’t wait for an invitation, sticking out their tongues to catch as much of it as possible.
Sebastian followed their lead.
“This is the time for us to move faster.” Codrin pointed to the sky.
“You know best, oh wise leader. And will you receive a hero’s welcome once they hear that you delivered two when there could’ve been three?”
“Very well.” Codrin threw his hands up in frustration. His laughter was the sound of someone coming unhinged. “Let us stop. Rest. Become a fellowship. We’ll swap stories of upbringings and hear of family hardships back home. Who among us packed a cauldron so we can boil stew on the fire?”
The woman released her grip on Sebastian and stepped away. She folded her arms across the front of her cloak and looked off through the forest. A sullen victory.
“Since we are…resting, I might as well ask,” Codrin said, looking at the witch-finder. “Your weapons are curious. Where did you get them?”
“I had them commissioned,” Garrick said, devoid of his usual wit. The hunter could hold his tongue when he wanted. “By a wizard of the divine, no less.” His emblematic sarcasm had arrived with only a delay of a few words.
&
nbsp; “Commissioned,” Codrin laughed. “I believe that part. These are unique. Silver ammunition, silver blades…almost as if you are hunting for something specific.”
“Rabbits,” Garrick said, “a blight to be exterminated. Did you know those hoppity fuckers encourage the spread of savage cats and foxes wherever they go? See, those predators come crawling to hunt the twitchy simpletons, and they wind up sticking around to prowl local wildlife. With rabbits, everything around them pays the price. They’re destructive to the native animals of any land.”
“Well-read, and with rapier wit,” Codrin said. “How lucky for us.”
“Wit? I do this out of concern. A true nature’s man, honestly. If encouraging predators was all those creatures did, I might give rabbits a pass. But that’s really just the start of their evil. Little pricks suck down seedlings like Londoners swallow gin, you follow? Get too many of those bastards in one area and watch your local trees and shrubs wither and die. You ask what I hunt and I’m telling you. Someone’s got to stop those things before there’s nothing left.”
“Amusing,” Codrin said, “but your tenacity holds no purpose with us. We hunt the same thing, you know. We took your horses, yes, but only because we needed their blood. That carried us a little further along so that we could take you. In happier times, I would’ve passed you over for a taste of varcolac.”
“If it’s wolf you hunt, you glanced over one back there in favor of taking us.”
The pale man looked ashamed, like a dog without claws. “In this…condition, there is little we could do against one.”
“She is sliced groin to sternum. Her wounds are fatal…”
The woman cloak turned. “If she is sliced open, then she is of no use to us. You fools bled her dry and could not finish her still? And now you hope for us to kill her?”
Garrick’s smile spread wide. “I hoped you might.”
“Enough.” Codrin placed his hands on either side of Sebastian’s face, against his cheeks. He leaned in close and the stench of decay came along with him. Sebastian knew this type of smell from delivering rotted and sun-drenched bounties to paying customers, but never from a ‘living’ creature. “You are well enough to continue, yes?”
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