by Kara Jaynes
“Anyway, the king is allowing commoners to participate in the tournament this year. Usually it’s just nobles that are allowed.” Jack’s face was flushed with excitement. “I’m going to win it. I’m going to become a Hunter. But I need to complete a quest first in order to qualify. You have to bring something special to the king. A magical artifact, or proof of defeating a beast. Something like that.”
Another roar, this time farther away. Jack nodded in satisfaction. “He shouldn’t bother you again.” He stretched his legs out, or tried to. His long limbs were still bent at the knee by the time his feet touched the opposite side of the trunk.
“Thank you for helping me,” Isabelle said.
Jack turned to look at her, their noses almost touching in the cramped quarters. “My pleasure,” he murmured.
The sound of scratching sounded on the outside of the trunk.
“Ash.” Isabelle stood to climb from the hollow. Ash leaped about with excitement when Isabelle’s feet touched ground, wagging her tail with enthusiasm.
Jack quickly jumped down beside her, brushing loose bits of bark from his hair.
“Good luck with your quest,” Isabelle said. She felt a twinge of disappointment leaving the man so soon. He was quite likeable.
“You’re saying that like a goodbye.” Jack winked at her.
“Oh, well, it is. I mean, I don’t know,” Isabelle stammered. “Ash and I should cover more ground before it’s dark.”
“Why don’t the two of you travel with me for a while?” Jack suggested. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, but he chewed the inside of his cheek, showing his nerves. “I mean, if you don’t want to it’s okay, but with the giant being so close it might be safer to travel with me and my harp…?” He shouldered his knapsack, trailing off uncertainly.
Isabelle hesitated. It would be highly improper to travel alone with a man she wasn’t married to. That just wasn’t done. If her mother found out, Isabelle would never hear the end of it.
Mother.
Isabelle steeled her jaw and inclined her head toward Jack. “Thank you, I would appreciate your company.”
“Really?” A smile bloomed across Jack’s face and butterflies danced in Isabelle’s stomach. She knew she’d made the right choice.
8
They made good time. Jack set the pace and his long legs covered ground quickly. That evening when he finally stopped, Isabelle collapsed on the ground, barely suppressing a groan. “I hurt.”
Jack chuckled and sat cross-legged next to her. “I don’t walk that fast.”
“I feel like I’ve run a five-hour race.”
Jack opened his mouth to reply when his stomach grumbled. He laughed, looking sheepish.
Isabelle had run out of the bread that Fawn made for her, but with Ash’s help, she’d caught a couple of squirrels. She’d also found some wild greens and onion, and soon had them cooking in the pan next to meat.
When it was finished she passed a plate to Jack. The young man took a bite, closing his eyes in pleasure, juice running down his chin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had squirrel.” He looked at Ash, who was gnawing on the carcass. “Good job, Lady Wolf.” Ash eyed him a moment before going back to her dinner. “Does she do all the hunting?”
“We both do.” Isabelle took Jack’s empty plate, placing it on top of hers. “We take turns. One of us hunts while the other guards the camp.”
“You make a good team.” Jack wiped his hands on his trousers.
“Where do you come from, Jack?” Isabelle asked.
Jack stretched himself out by the fire as he considered her question.
“I come from the Southern Province,” he said at last. His demeanor had changed, and he seemed solemn. “I haven’t been there in some time.”
“What’s it like?” Isabelle asked eagerly. Until now, she’d never traveled farther than Seabound. “I hear it’s hot, all the time, even in winter.”
Jack smiled, amused at her curiosity. “It’s pretty warm,” he admitted. “The summers are miserable.” His smile grew. “I remember one summer my friend, Daytyn, and I snuck into a noble’s house. We’d heard of something incredible. Solid water. Daytyn didn’t believe it was true, but it was.” His voice trailed off as he recalled his memory, his expression filled with wonder. “They called it ‘ice.’ It was unbelievably cold, Isabelle. You wouldn’t believe it until you saw it.” He ran a hand through his ginger hair, making it even more unruly. “Being here up north, I’ve seen snow, as well. It’s incredible. I hear the sea is amazing too.” His eyes sparkled as a thought came to him. “After I become a Fabled Hunter, we could go see the ocean together!”
Isabelle smiled. His exuberance was contagious. “I lived by the sea. Seabound.”
“Oh. What’s it like?” Jack wasn’t deterred, his green eyes pinning her with their intensity.
Isabelle paused, at a loss for words. How did one explain something as vast and strange as the sea to someone who’d never seen it? “It’s … wet.”
Jack laughed out loud. “I gathered that much.”
Isabelle nudged his shoulder playfully. “I wasn’t finished.”
“Then continue, my dear.” Jack smiled and nudged himself a little closer, their sides touching. Isabelle’s heart fluttered at the contact as she tried to find the right words. “The sea is … like this forest.” She waved a hand, indicating the leafy roof above their heads. “Impossibly large. Waves of water rolling onto waves. The water changes color too, to match the sky. Sometimes it’s blue …” She trailed off, remembering the strange man who’d pulled her from the river. Where had he gone? Who was he?
“Isabelle.” Jack’s voice brought her back. His expression was one of skepticism. “I’m not completely stupid. Nothing is as large as the forest.”
“It is.” Isabelle nodded. “Water as far as the eye can see. Sometimes the waters are calm. It’ll look as smooth as glass, the waves sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight. Other times it’s dark and dangerous, with strong winds billowing about. Then the waves will surge higher than a ship.” She noticed Jack’s continued look of disbelief and eyed him sternly. “It’s true. Every word.”
He nodded. “Will you take me there someday? The sea. I want to see the sea.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“Yes,” Isabelle promised. “I will take you to the sea.” She felt a pang of homesickness thinking of the white-capped waves and salty tang in the air. She hoped her family was doing okay. You should have stayed. No. She shook her head. I won’t give up who I am. Not like that. I’d rather die than subject myself to a life of dreariness. Married to a man older than my father.
“What’s wrong?” Jack put out a hesitant hand, lightly touching her cheek. Isabelle shivered, instinctively pulling away, but regretting it at the same time.
“It’s nothing,” she lied. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does,” he said, his hand dropping to his side. “You matter, Isabelle.” He tilted his head, regarding her. “You know if you come with me, we might find a quest for you too.”
“Do you have something already in mind?” Isabelle asked. “Defeating a dragon? Oh wait, I know. You plan to rescue a fair damsel.”
“I already did that.” Jack winked at her and Isabelle looked away, unable to hide her smile.
“I’m heading to the city of Erum,” he said. “I’m hoping to catch wind of some rumors there. Give me a better idea of what quests need fulfilling.”
“Why a quest?” Isabelle asked. She grabbed a handful of long grass, using it to scrub grease off the plates. “Why would the king require it?”
“It’s to weed out the talkers from the doers,” Jack said, reaching his arms above his head in a stretch. “Even the nobles have to complete quests. It’s to make sure only the quick-thinking, honest, and brave are picked.”
Isabelle shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere better to go. I’ll go to Erum too.” She stood, picked up her bow and quiver, and stepped away from th
e fire, finding a place to practice. “Maybe Ash and I can get a job working with a fur trader. Or something.”
Jack eyed her askance. “You really don’t know what you want, do you?”
In answer Isabelle fitted an arrow to the bowstring, sighted and shot a low hanging branch on a pine, several yards away.
Jack whistled, his green eyes filled with admiration. “That’s a beautiful shot.” He pointed to a higher, smaller branch above the one she’d hit. “Shoot that one.”
Isabelle aimed again, inhaling deeply. Releasing the string, her arrow flew true, snapping half of the twig off as it thudded into a tree behind it.
“You have to try, Isabelle,” Jack said. He rubbed his hands together with excitement. “I’ve never seen such skill at the bow. The two of us, we could become legendary. Fabled. Forget trading.”
“I don’t know,” Isabelle bit her lower lip. “I’m a good shot, but I’m not particularly fast—”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jack rolled his eyes. “I watched you run from a giant, remember? You were making tracks.” He laughed, remembering. “You almost outran the wolf.”
Isabelle laughed with him, but considered his words. He was right. She was fast. She’d fought an ogre and a witch. And while she hadn’t defeated either foe alone, it was still more than most eighteen year olds could say.
Coming out of her thoughts, she found Jack had walked over to retrieve her arrows. Returning them, he looked down at her, his gaze soft.
“You can do this, Isabelle.” Their hands touched. Isabelle swallowed, her skin prickling. “It doesn't matter what your mother wants. What do you want?”
Isabelle was silent. What did she want? She’d wanted to go to school, but that was out of the question now. Her family needed help. They needed the money. She also felt the irrepressible desire to prove to her mother, to herself; that she was strong enough to go after what she wanted. She looked up into Jack’s eyes.
“I want to become a Fabled Hunter.”
Jack grinned. “Then let’s get to Erum. Just another few days until we reach it. According to my map, we’re getting pretty close to a town called Tenebris. It’s just on the edge of the woods. We can restock the supplies there to get us as far as the city.”
“About that.” Isabelle fidgeted with the clasp of her cloak. “I don’t have any money.” Well, a few coppers, but she wanted to hold onto them in case an emergency came up later.
“That’s for me to worry about,” Jack said. He patted his harp’s case. “I pay my way through song. You’d be surprised by how many innkeepers are happy to trade food and a bed for a bit of song and story. It helps bring in customers, you know.”
“Okay.” Isabelle felt a prick of curiosity looking at the harp case. It was clearly old and looked worn out, and had to be secondhand, but the harp looked well taken care of and expensive. “How did you get your harp, Jack?”
Jack laughed nervously, not making eye contact with her. “It’s kind of a long story. I don’t want to bore you.” He stood, slinging the case over his shoulder. “We should start walking. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a soft bed.”
They left camp shortly after. Isabelle trailed Jack, watching as his case gently bumped against his back with every stride. His clothing was travel-stained and his boots worn. Everything he owned looked like it was ready to fall apart, except for his harp. Was it a family heirloom? He seemed hesitant to talk about it. Isabelle knew it would bother her until she knew the story behind it, and decided to ask him again later.
She felt a warm glow inside as she walked alongside the tall redhead. The more she got to know Jack, the more she liked him. He was kind, funny, and whenever she was with him she felt like she was free to be herself.
She wasn’t sure what the tournament would be like, but a future as a Fabled Hunter at Jack’s side sounded like a fairy tale.
9
Tenebris was a crowded town. It was surrounded by a fence of tall wooden posts, with guards at the entrance. Jack and Isabelle were allowed to enter once they’d stated their business. Ash had stayed in the forest.
One of the guards eyed them with interest. “Would-be Fabled Hunters, eh? There are more of you here in town. Keep things peaceful, all right?”
Jack and Isabelle exchanged glances, but stayed silent. If rumors were to be believed, sometimes the tension between aspiring Hunters could get a little intense.
The streets were unpaved and dirty. There seemed to be as many vagrants as other townsfolk.
“What now?” Isabelle asked.
“We find an inn,” Jack replied. “The money we earn there by my playing should be enough to purchase plenty of supplies.”
“Get out of my way, wretch!” a voice shouted. A tall, broad shouldered young man stood several feet ahead of them on the street. He was yelling at a young girl who shrank from his voice, pressing back against the dirty plaster wall of a shop. “If I wanted matches I’d buy them, and not from the likes of you.” He kicked her—ignoring the child’s yelp of pain—and strode down the street, closely passing by Isabelle and Jack.
He was a handsome man, with long, golden hair that curled about his shoulders, but his nose was wrinkled like he smelled something bad. Isabelle disliked him immediately.
Jack sprinted ahead and crouched down before the girl. The child shied away from him, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t hurt me, sir,” she whimpered. “Please.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jack said soothingly. There were matches scattered all over the ground. Jack picked up every one, careful not to damage them. “Here you go.” He held them out to the child, smiling encouragingly.
“Thank you, sir.” The girl smiled back at him, accepting the matches with tiny dirt smudged hands. “My grandfather sends me out to sell them every day. It’s a very important job.” She looked up at him hopefully. “I don’t suppose that you, maybe, might need …” she trailed off hopefully.
“Why, of course I need matches,” Jack said with a grin. “Any traveler worth his salt needs matches, wouldn’t you say, Isabelle?” He looked up at her over his shoulder.
Isabelle shrugged. “Maybe?” They already had flint.
He blinked, his grin melting away in puzzlement. He turned back to the child. “I’ll give you five coppers for the lot of them.”
Isabelle frowned at his back. That was much more than what they were worth. But the child was so overwhelmed by his obvious generosity that it was hard not to smile at her excitement.
“You have a good heart, sir,” the girl said, carefully pocketing the coppers. “You should try your hand at retrieving a golden apple.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked. The little girl looked up at him with solemn dark eyes.
“It’s the enchanted maze,” she explained. She talked to Jack like they were the only two people in the world, oblivious to passersby. “Anyone who searches for the fruit with pure intent shall find the golden fruit. Anyone who searches for selfish reasons,” she shrugged, “find themselves back at the maze entrance.”
“I see.” Jack was silent for a moment, considering the child’s story. “Where can I find this maze?”
She held out her little hands. “I don’t know, sir. I heard some strangers talk to my grandfather about it.”
Jack patted her on the head. “Take care, child.”
“My name is Gwendi, sir.”
“Take care, Gwendi.” Jack stood, stretching his lean arms. “Let’s go find that inn,” he said to Isabelle. Jack carried so many matches he was having a hard time fitting them into his pockets as they walked.
“Did you need to buy all of the matches?” Isabelle eyed him with exasperation. The matches had been a waste of money they could have used for food.
Jack looked at her, confused. “How could I not?”
Isabelle didn’t answer, taken aback by his question.
There was only one inn in town. When they arrived, it was already packed. The handsome, golden
haired young man who’d hurt Gwendi was talking loudly, the spectators hanging on his every word. “And just as I was sitting down to eat my porridge, I was surrounded by three ferocious bears, each one of them bigger than the last, each one determined to eat me. Yet I didn’t despair. I took out my sword, and—”
“Bear cubs aren’t ferocious, even if there are three of them,” Jack said loudly. He folded his arms across his chest, his green eyes narrowed. Anger hung over him like a cloud.
The golden haired man stared at him, astounded by the taunt. “Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Jack said evenly. “But I can tell you one thing. I don’t hurt little girls.”
The stranger’s eyes flared with outrage. He pushed his way through the crowd to stand in front of Jack and Isabelle. He was a couple inches shorter than Jack, but his shoulders were broader. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
Jack’s face betrayed a flicker of uncertainty and the man smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You have reason to fear. For I, I am Braeden Roir, son of Bearnin. I am here to retrieve a golden apple and bring honor to my family. I will enter the maze, complete my quest, and become the next Fabled Hunter!”
The crowd clapped and cheered, including the innkeeper, and Braeden took a bow, his golden locks swaying.
Isabelle exhaled heavily and even Jack looked relieved. Braeden wasn’t a noble.
“Let’s go,” Jack muttered to Isabelle. He turned and stalked outside.
“This is the only inn in town,” Isabelle protested, following him out.
“I’d rather sleep outside than share an inn with that pig,” Jack said. Isabelle didn’t have to ask who he meant by that.
“Where are we going then?” she asked.
“We’ll continue to Erum,” Jack replied. His jaw was set, determined. “If we leave now we’ll be able to cover a few miles before dark.”
They took a different way through the town. It looked dirtier here, poorer. They passed a particularly shabby house with half the roof missing.