by D. D. Miers
Releasing the bird’s strap, I ran, cursing the pain that had yet to entirely fade from my ankle. It wasn’t broken, I could tell that much, but it made every hurried step even more agonizing.
Several minutes passed before I dared look behind me. All that stretched out for miles was the thick of the forest, and scattered somewhere within there—the angered guardsmen.
I needed to get back to camp—needed to warn the others.
Even with my injuries, I’d made certain to take the longest route back to camp. Once I’d finally found the meandering riverbank that spilled freezing water toward the coast, I knew it wouldn’t be long. Cautiously, I hurried along the edge, until a hint of smoke and charred meat drew me in faster.
The small encampment sat within a clearing by the river, all centered around a fire that crackled and popped against the dripping fat of a handful of skinned rabbits. Tents of hide and scavenged canvas blended into the woods, save for their having broken up the swath of thick, dense moss.
The only remnants of the world long past were twisted scraps of enormous metal once known as cars. No one alive amongst our group had seen them in motion, but Lasiandra once told me that her great grandmother had spoken of a time when everyone had them. Now, they stored our weapons and extra supplies. Their sturdiness made them ideal to protect against the elements.
Several pairs of eyes swung on me the moment I stepped into sight. Their narrowed, brow-lifting looks did nothing for my self-confidence. I was sure I looked deranged—or at least more deranged than normal. Dirt, moss, and leaves adorned my hair. A couple of swollen bee stings added a frightening flare, and the hole in my pants paired with my fading limp sealed the illusion.
“Sloane!” The high-pitched voice made me want to scream, if only because I knew Freda’s motherly ways. It was a bit odd, given she was younger than me, younger than most of us, but somehow, she wanted to play at caregiver. Half expecting her to run over and inspect me inch by inch, I was met with no protest as I rushed into my tent.
My home was meager at worst and homey at best with a thin bedroll and a string of herbs I’d hung to dry a couple of weeks prior. That, and what I had for clothing, but there was nothing I preferred more than the comfort and protection of leather. It wasn’t much, but I didn’t need much, and that only made things easier as I hurriedly shoved what little belongings I had into an empty bag.
“Sloane…” There was Freda again, blocking the door and shading my light as I furled my bedroll and hunted for the straps that would secure it to the outside of my bag. “Are you hurt? Do you need something?”
“We need to go.” I snapped the bedroll in place and hunted around, crouching beneath the tent’s low ceiling. “The Sonola Fae guards… They’re here in the Outlands. We have to move camp, immediately.”
“You’re bleeding.” Freda’s protest was meek, but she always had the best interest of others at heart.
I sighed, my eyes still glued to making certain I didn’t leave anything useful behind. “I’m fine. It’s just a small cut. What’s coming may be much worse.”
“I could just grab some ointment for you. You know it won’t take long.”
I hated to wait around at all, but the affectionate honey-colored blonde was right; it wouldn’t take long, and at least her efforts would help me avoid getting an infection. I glanced at her from over my shoulder, and tried to ease the troublesome look in her eyes with a faint smile. “Okay, just…hurry.”
I’d expected her face to light up when she ran off, but her brow only seemed to fall farther. Brushing it aside, I made another final check for my things before heading toward the fire. It was there I settled into the nearest chair, rickety as it was, my bag dropping with a thud at my side.
The day was quiet…eerily so as the others shuffled about, their hushed whispers drawing my eyes to points. Either they were talking about something, or about me, and given my present state, I was apt to believe it was the latter.
Hurriedly, Freda came to my side, her hands filled with far more than a simple ointment.
“Really? It’s not that bad,” I protested.
My words weren’t apt to stop her. “You can’t just cover it up; you have to clean it first.” The corners of her thin lips fell into a stark arch as she snipped the hole of my pants wider.
“Do you have to do that?”
She glanced up. “What? Cut them?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “I do.”
“These are my best pants.”
“Then repair them after I’m done,” Freda said so forcefully I sealed my lips shut.
Killion always called me confrontational, but I preferred sensible. Thread—or anything that resembled thread—was hard to come by. Especially in recent times. I’d have to barter before winter came.
There was no denying her skill tending wounds, but as she dabbed at the seeping cut, I couldn’t help but wince. It burned, and though she cleaned the grit and grime from it, it felt like sandpaper ground into my skin.
“You’re lucky,” Freda murmured as the last swipe sent a small cry from my lips. Saving my dignity, she ignored it. “This could have been far worse.”
“Yeah, I could be dead.” The words sounded almost sarcastic, but I meant it.
With a shake of her head, Freda spread a thick layer of the viscous ointment across the wound. “But you aren’t, and now your leg won’t fall off either.”
My smile of thanks was short-lived. Freda grabbed her things and scurried off with them, leaving me as the apparent center of attention. Though no one was saying it, I could almost feel the air shift around me as they glanced at me sideways and uttered not a word of greeting or question.
Our numbers were small, and we didn’t gravitate to things like gossip or petty arguments. Life in the Outlands required a level head and a rational mind. There was no time for anything else.
“Why are you guys acting so weird?”
No one, not even Jeremy, the usual motor-mouth, spoke. Instead, he pointed toward the river and started to head off. I jumped to my feet and followed.
“Jeremy!”
His steps slowed to the pace of a snail as his almost-desperate gaze swung toward me.
“Seriously, what’s going on? I come back looking like I’ve been put through a meat grinder, and everyone hides? There are Sonola Fae guards in the Outlands. Doesn’t that worry anyone but me?”
“Sloane…” Jeremy’s hands wrung tight at his chest as he spoke. “There’s…”
“And where is Killion? He should have been back by now.”
The averted gazes of everyone concerned me, but never had I seen Jeremy so worried before. A lump formed in my throat the moment his lips parted.
“Leander came back hours ago.”
My brow scrunched. So what if Killion’s hunting partner had come back? I couldn’t understand the concern, especially not when the pair of them were the best hunters in the encampment. Besides me, of course. They’d shown up separately many times before.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Sloane…” Freda stepped forward, her voice heavy with regret. “Your brother is missing.”
3
My pack was in my hands before anyone could protest otherwise. There was no way I’d sit around just waiting while my brother was in potential danger. He was the only family I had left, and he would have done the same for me.
“Come on. You just got back,” Jeremy protested, his words doing nothing to stop me. “A group went out looking for him already. You don’t need to do this.”
“Yes, I do.” My eyes narrowed to pinpoints. “Is Leander here?”
“No, he went with them, toward Inorah.”
“Inorah? Why would they head toward there?”
“Leander said Killion planned to stop in the city on his way.”
Why on earth would Killion go to the Fae city?
He’d told me he needed to trade for some new sheers after the hunt, but I’d assumed he
’d meant to the south side of the Hollow, near the border—not toward Inorah. We both hated the Fae, and we did everything we could to avoid them.
“Are you certain?”
Jeremy nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll search the surrounding forests, and if I must, Inorah as well.”
“Sloane, you’ve never been there. You can’t go alone.” He grabbed at my arm, his hand accidently pushing up the sleeve of my blouse, revealing the crescent-shape birthmark and the three dots that covered my wrist.
My wrist—and Killion’s.
Fraternal twins with the exact same birthmark on the exact same spot. Fear I’d never see the mark on Killion’s flesh again almost suffocated me. I looked up to meet Jeremy’s eyes, and shook free of his grasp.
I stormed toward the small armory supply. It was located in what remained of one of the broken-down cars that were scattered along the Outlands. I quickly replenished my stock of bolts before I fled from the edge of camp. Several pairs of eyes followed me as I went, hushed murmurs filled with fear and doubt
“Sloane, wait!” Freda was hot on my heels as I trudged hurriedly away. “It’s not safe! Come back.”
I didn’t want to wait any longer, but I couldn’t ignore Freda. She’d saved my life with her potions on more than one occasion. I came to a stop and turned toward the girl who couldn’t have looked more my opposite. Where she was blonde and wiry, I had hair of ebony and curves that made finding the perfect pants difficult—which was why I had to sew my own. Her face was soft and calm, with wide doe-eyes that always made her look innocent, while my almond-shaped eyes left me looking more exotic, and a bit less able to ever hide within a crowd.
She reached for my hand, the pad of her thumb already circling in soothing ministrations. “Didn’t you just say it was dangerous out there? That the Sonola Fae guards were near?”
“Yes…I did, and that gives me even more reason to go. Killion might need me.”
“You could be killed.” Her grip tightened on my hand. It was a fear I knew well enough. I’d seen it on her face once before when she’d come face to face with a silverback bear.
“Yeah, and so could Killion.” The aim wasn’t to hurt her feelings, but I’d had enough. I wasn’t going to turn my back on my brother. “I escaped the guards once; I can do it again if I need to.”
“And you got hurt in the—”
“Freda.” My hand settled against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I’m going, and you can’t convince me otherwise. You know Killion is all I have left.”
She recoiled, probably from the harshness of my words that had left her and the others out cold, even if it hadn’t been my intention at all. It hurt, seeing her like that, but it hurt even more knowing Killion could have been needing me in that very moment and here I stood, bickering about whether to go.
“I’ll be back, Freda. I promise.”
The words felt heavy and hollow as I walked away, their weight one I hoped I could shed as I turned to go farther into the Sonola forests than I’d ever gone before. I’d go all the way into Inorah itself if I had to, into the city we’d avoided since our village had been turned to ruin and ash. Nothing was stopping me, not as I took to the same woods I’d fled through earlier, but this time with more caution and a bit less haste.
The setting sun’s rays filtered through the towering trees, bathing the lush greenery in a warmth that wouldn’t remain for long. Admitted or not, my breath held when the sun vanished beyond the horizon, plummeting me into a darkness I was wholly unprepared for. There was a reason we avoided these forests at night and stuck close to camp, and in my haste, I’d forgotten to bring a light source to make the trek easier.
Hopefully, the developing darkness would cloak me from the beasts that came out at night.
I crept onward, my eyes narrowed at the stark shadows cast by the faint glow of the moon above. Were it not for the tree’s thick canopies, I would have seen my every step. Instead, my path was slow as I surveyed what was ahead, finding the low-lying rocks and scattered fallen leaves to look far more menacing than they truly were in the thick of the night.
I was heading back the same way I’d come, and wondered how the maze of our steps hadn’t crossed one another when Leander and the others had set out in their search. I should have asked for more information. Where had he last seen Killion? What had their plans been?
A sickening sound of tearing flesh left me frozen in place as curses filled my mind. I should have been paying more mind, not daydreaming, and now, with my eyes on a constant swivel, I was left wondering what the horrible sounds were that left me with a sense of dread.
The more I looked, through narrowed eyes as I adjusted to the waning light, it dawned on me I’d been here before. Recently. I crept forward, cautious not to snap twigs or crunch leaves beneath my feet.
Vultures swarmed ahead, black feathers their cloak against the darkness. I would have laughed, were it not so morbid to see their beaks coated in blood. They’d found the turkey, the one I’d left behind, and now I got to watch as they tore it apart.
They barely moved as I walked past, save for the turn of their beady eyes that watched me with worry I’d snatch up their meal. There was no concern; I’d lost my appetite a long time ago.
I froze barely a few steps ahead. Fear wound its way through my muscles in a tight weave I couldn’t shake. On the ground lay a figure, encased in silver armor that glittered in the moonlight. How I hadn’t seen the reflection long before I’d nearly stepped on the monster was a mystery, and one I cared not answer as I crouched at his side.
His eyes remained open, staring at the treetops. In their reflection was the same dark forest-green one could only find at night. Stranger still was the dark rim around his iris that rivaled the efforts of any thin eyeliner. Never had I been so close, and I feared every soft push of my breath would somehow wake the man whose chest held the full brunt of my iron-tipped bolt.
It was a wonder it had pierced his armor at all. I stood and grasped the end of the bolt, figuring I’d need a bit of leverage. I pushed against his sternum with the heel of my boot, not finding any resistance. My foot plunged down and my arms pulled back, sending me careening backward as the armor clattered in a deafening echo that scattered the vultures to the wind.
I laid there on my back in silence, terrified the noise would bring me nothing but harm. In a slow roll, I got back to my feet and stared at what was now nothing more than a pile of ash and empty pieces of armor. It made no sense, but neither did the venomous nature of the Fae.
Cautiously, the toe of my boot nudged the armor aside. It almost seemed as if there should have been something more, something solid like amber or a piece of charcoal. With each push, the ashes drifted upon the night breeze, scattering into dust. The Fae was just…gone.
I pushed on, never once letting myself look back as I crested the same hill I’d tumbled down and crouched through the narrow passage of granite. There were scrapes along the rock face and ruts pushed into the dirt, all signs their earlier trouble had helped in my escape.
The closer I drew toward Falseon Lake, the more the thickly wooded forests began to change. There was something almost magical about it, the way the heavy, leaf-ridden branches bowed, making the path more difficult to traverse. It wasn’t easy, especially not in the dark, to find the subtle carvings hewn into the thickest of the trunks. They looked like simple arrows, but we’d decided long ago to use them incorrectly, so no others would easily follow our paths.
I’d never traveled beyond the waters of Falseon Lake. It stretched out ahead of me in a pit of blackness. Across the surface and through the trees beyond, fireflies drifted, their faint flickers like starlight in a void I’d never dared to go near.
Standing there alone in the open, I pulled my pack a little harder over my shoulder and wished for a moment I believed in God, or any god, so I had someone to pray to.
“I’m coming, Killion.”
It was the best I could do as I
took a single step, yet the cracking snap of a tree branch hadn’t been from the weight of my foot at all. My heart pounded between the cage of my ribs, the faint thudding drowned out by a sudden, savage growl.
I turned slowly.
Enormous teeth bared behind me, glowing against the night sky. I spun all the way round, my pack slipping from my arms and falling to the ground.
The beast stalked around me, his cragged teeth reflecting the moon’s light. The rest was covered in a fur blacker than midnight and thicker than the forests themselves. With a head narrower than a bear’s and legs that stretched longer, my curiosity cared not that I had to focus in the moment rather than answer the pressing question at the front of my mind.
What the hell was it, and where had it come from?
I’d only seen glimpses of the shadowy creatures that stalked the nights, but never one in full view.
Without warning, it lashed out, the swipe of its jagged claws just barely missing me as I tumbled out of the way and yanked the crossbow from my back. Angrily it tore into the earth, ripping up clumps of dirt, rocks, and rotten tree roots alike. Before I had a moment to react, it flung the cloud of debris my way.
Dust filled my lungs as my hands flew up, crossbow and all to shield my head and face from the smattering of rocks that pinged off me. At my side, the largest one fell, settling with a thud as the creature reared up like a sturdy oak.
I jutted my crossbow forward, the time for perfecting aim long over as I yanked harshly on the trigger. The bolt slammed into the beast’s core, vanishing into fur too thick to find it again. I wasted no time getting back to my feet as his shrill cry echoed across the lake’s surface. It seemed loud enough to reach up to the mountaintops and beyond. It hurt; my ears left ringing in agony from the otherworldly sound as I caught sight of my pack just beyond his reach.
It didn’t matter, though. His paws slammed down, shaking the very ground beneath my feet. The bolt hadn’t killed him, and there was absolutely no way I could outrun him. I pulled both daggers from beneath my arms, hopeful that afflicted by magic or not, the creature wouldn’t survive a hit to the skull.