by K. A. Linde
She tiptoed around the next tree, careful not to barge into the clearing in the event that the guardsmen had already found Maelia. But Maelia was standing there with her sword in hand, easily swinging it back and forth while pacing the space.
Cyrene walked into their camp as Ahlvie burst into the clearing. He dropped what little firewood he’d still had in his arms.
“Guards,” he choked out. “Everywhere.”
“What?” Maelia squeaked, gripping her sword tighter.
“They’re swarming the woods. I don’t know how many there are, but I barely missed two of them.”
“I saw them too,” Cyrene said. “I saw six and they said the two you saw were out on patrols. So eight of them, and one is a Captain.”
Maelia’s face paled. “A Captain?”
“Creator!” Ahlvie said. He spat on the ground.
“Did you find Orden?” Cyrene asked Ahlvie.
“No. He was still scouting. I don’t know how he missed the guards. They’re right on top of us.”
“We’ll have to make do without him.”
She didn’t miss the glance between Ahlvie and Maelia. She knew as well as they did that Orden was the only reason none of them had been caught yet. He was an excellent tracker and seemed to know these woods like the back of his hand.
“With or without him, it’s clear that we can’t stay here,” Ahlvie said.
“Agreed,” Maelia said.
“I overheard them say that, if they didn’t find anything by nightfall, they were going to make camp on the other side of the creek, due west of here.”
They all looked at the sun hovering above the horizon. Nightfall would be here soon enough.
“Ahlvie, you know better than I do, how feasible it would be to get us away from here without drawing notice,” Cyrene said.
He was more than adept at navigating the woods than either of them. His family was from a small Third Class village, Fen, leagues north of the country’s northernmost city, Levin. The Taken Mountains trailed off into foothills, and a forest surrounded his village. He’d said it was nothing like the enormity of the Hidden Forest, but it was certainly different than Cyrene’s First Class background with Affiliate and High Order parents or Maelia’s life in Second Class with two Captains of the Guard as parents.
“We’d be sitting ducks,” he told them. “We’d have more luck hiding and leaving before first light. That should give Orden sufficient time to return. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Then, we’ll do that. Maelia, start packing in case we have to make a run for it. Ahlvie, find something to use as cover. I’d rather not move the horses. They’ll draw too much attention. We’ll set up a watch, and I’ll take the first shift. You two are better with a sword, if it comes to a fight, so you should rest.”
Without complaint, they immediately went into action.
Ahlvie returned with some foliage and branches for camouflage. The horses were obscured from sight by a large tree and shrubbery, and in such a short amount of time, there wasn’t much more they could do. Ahlvie selected an area near the clearing to wait out in until sunset.
No one said a word. They huddled together and hoped for the best. It had been a long journey already, and they had too far to go to quit now.
A noise in the woods off to their right alerted them that someone was coming. They each took in a sharp breath. A small opening in the branches provided Cyrene with a peephole to view the heavy black boot stepping into the clearing. Her heart stopped as the Captain came into view. Maelia and Ahlvie tensed next to her.
He walked forward, his eyes searching the ground for prints to track. Ahlvie had covered their footprints as best as he could before throwing fresh leaves on the ground, but if the Captain overturned the wrong leaf…
She didn’t want to think about it, and they all strained not to make a single sound. The Captain’s head cocked to the side in the direction of the horses. She prayed to the Creator that they were as concealed as she thought they were. When she had made a pass by the horses, she couldn’t see them. But one sound would give them all away.
The Captain took a step toward the horses and then tentatively took another, like he wasn’t sure what he would find there. Cyrene was panicking, the closer he got. Ahlvie reached out and gripped her arm, as if he knew she was about to do something irrational.
When the Captain was practically on top of the horses, one of the other guardsmen barged into the clearing at a breakneck pace.
“Sir! Captain!” the woman cried. She stopped and saluted the Captain.
“What is it, Naelan?” he asked impatiently. “I’d be surprised if anything could hide from you with you trampling around the grounds like that.”
“We found something up the western path. Jaela instructed me to inform you at once.”
“Thank you, Naelan,” he said dismissively.
“Sir,” she said, saluting before retreating.
He followed Naelan out of the clearing, glancing back once before disappearing entirely. When he broke the tree line, Cyrene sighed in relief. She couldn’t believe how close they had come to getting caught.
Unfortunately, their excitement was dampened by the news Naelan had delivered. They had found something along the western path. Is Orden that something? No one wanted to voice the concern.
They waited until dusk fell before removing their camouflage. Soon, night would follow, and Orden still hadn’t returned.
“What do we do?” Maelia asked.
“We can’t go after him.” Cyrene hated the answer.
“We can’t leave him either,” Ahlvie said.
“No,” she agreed, “we can’t. If they apprehended him, we’ll have to get him back. But it’s too dark to go marching through the woods, looking for him, now. They’ll need me before they can return anyway—Orden won’t suffice—so that should buy us some time.”
“Not the kind of time I prefer,” Ahlvie grunted, scratching the back of his head.
“Me either,” Maelia said.
“Either of you have a better solution?”
Maelia and Ahlvie slowly shook their heads.
Cyrene nodded. “All right then, let’s bed down for the night. Don’t unpack the horses. Let’s just find somewhere hidden to rest for a few hours.”
“Somewhere hidden in the Hidden Forest?” Ahlvie asked, cracking a half-smile.
“How can you even joke right now?” Maelia asked.
She glared at Ahlvie, and his smile vanished.
“I’m taking first watch,” Cyrene interjected.
“Let me,” Ahlvie insisted.
“You need rest. I couldn’t go to sleep now if I tried,” she insisted. “Now, go!”
Her friends set out their bedrolls, and Cyrene found a perfect location to stand guard. Her sword was hanging from her belt with her hand holding the oversize pommel as she stared forward into the darkness.
Cyrene awoke with a start with her back firmly pressed against a tree, cursing herself for the fatigue. Her surroundings were pitch-black, and she knew she had been out too long already when she was supposed to be on watch.
Just as she turned to go wake Ahlvie to take over, a chill crept up her spine. She stilled, her eyes roaming the dark forest before her. She could feel someone was out there, but she found it hard to believe that the guards would venture back into the forest at night.
A low guttural growl told her that something, not someone, was stalking these woods.
Wolves?
She steeled herself against the rising panic. She could do nothing if she was immobilized by fear. She had to get to her friends and warn them of the danger.
Internalizing every ounce of preparation that Orden had tried to instill in her over the last couple of weeks, she crept like a wraith through the tree line and caught her first glimpse of the beast as she approached. With the forest obscuring the starlight, she could only attempt to ascertain the enormity of what lay before her. It stood taller than her, eve
n while crouched on four legs.
Thankfully, it hadn’t seen her, and she wanted to keep it that way. Even if this was the only creature of its kind in the woods, she didn’t want to engage with it.
Breathlessly, she waited for the beast to pass out of her sight, and then she hurried to the edge of the clearing. When she saw what awaited her, her hand went reflexively to the sword at her side…not that it would do her much good.
Five more of the creatures filled the area. Their fur was as black as night while their eyes glowed yellow in the meager moon light. Their sharp claws curved out of their massive paws, and fangs the size of her forearm gleamed wickedly. They were not quite wolf or bear or leopard. Something more deadly, something…wrong.
Cyrene was thankful for the still night. No breeze to pick up her scent and send her to her death.
After an agonizingly slow minute, she reached her friends, still wrapped up in their blankets. Maelia slumbered lightly, her hand resting on her blade, poised for the ready. Ahlvie was covered from head to toe. Cyrene could only tell he was there because she had already known.
She bent down to wake them, but movement in the clearing held her still. The beasts were on the move. A low growl signified that one was dangerously close to her. She watched them fan out in a circle. Cyrene had never seen anything like it, and their behavior made her skin crawl.
When she turned back to check on Maelia and Ahlvie, a giant monster stood over them. Spit dripped from one vicious fang, as it was ready to devour its meal. It opened its powerful jaw, prepared to attack.
“Maelia!” Cyrene screamed in warning.
Her friend woke instantly, released her blade from its scabbard, and blocked the beast with such elegance that no one would have guessed she had just been asleep. Ahlvie scrambled out of his bedroll and reached for his weapon.
But the monster was already engaged with Maelia, and it growled its fury at being parted from its meal. Ahlvie tried to divert its attention, but the beast lunged for Maelia. She parried its blows, match for match. Her moves were graceful and precise but fiercely deadly. She ducked and rolled, lashing out at the tough fur, and she fended off the jaw that meant to crush her. She was panting from exhaustion when she finally landed an impressive killing strike. The monster fell to the ground in a pool of putrid black blood.
Ahlvie gagged at the sight of the dead animal. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Maelia answered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“There are at least five others,” Cyrene told them.
“Five?” Maelia gasped.
Ahlvie shook his head in disbelief and then assessed the body. His nose wrinkled as he poked the beast. “It almost looks like—”
“A wolf,” Maelia finished.
Cyrene shook her head. “Worse. They feel wrong.”
“Really wrong,” Ahlvie agreed. “We need to get out of here.”
“Now,” Cyrene said.
Maelia assessed the situation and then nodded. “Let’s get the horses and make a run for it. We can’t kill five more without backup.”
“The only backup in these woods are the blasted guards,” Ahlvie spat.
Maelia sharply eyed him. She seemed to be in her element. “They might be our only choice.”
Get caught by Byern guards, or get killed by monsters in the woods?
They didn’t have to make that decision because, at that moment, another creature appeared. Making its way toward Cyrene, it pounced. She screamed in terror, and on instinct, she raised her sword to meet the creature. Miraculously, the blade bit into the beast’s flesh. She gave it a thrust with all her might, and it drove through the creature, up to the hilt. Black blood gushed out of the dead animal. It smelled horrid as it covered her arms and coated her dress. The beast landed heavily, nearly on top of her, and Ahlvie shoved it aside to release her from its grip. She scrambled to her feet. Her hands were shaking as she tried to yank the blade out of the beast. When she had no luck, Ahlvie put his foot on the beast’s side and wrenched the blade free, handing it back to Cyrene.
Two more beasts appeared. Maelia and Ahlvie were a murderous lot, fighting off the two that had come at them, but nothing they did seemed to dissuade the monsters. They couldn’t keep this up, and the monsters knew it.
Cyrene rose to her feet and took a deep breath. Okay, I can do this. She could make her powers bend to her will. No matter how much time she spent reading the insufferable book or trying to make her powers emerge like they had when she killed the Braj, they had refused to budge. But this was life or death. They had to work this time.
Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what the book had said. She reached deep within herself, to the core of her magic. There, it supposedly lay dormant and untouched, ready to do her bidding. The faintest trickles, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, brushed against her. She tried to hold on to it, to do anything to help her friends, but it was like grasping at thin air. She released her breath in a loud gasp.
She could have torn apart the enemy with her anger at her own ineptitude. Just as she went to reach within herself again, a fang bit into her arm.
She went down hard on her knees. Her sword clattered to the ground at her feet, and fire seared her flesh. She couldn’t bite back her piercing shriek. Maelia broke from Ahlvie’s side and sliced through the beast that had attacked Cyrene. The thing dropped with a shuddering cry next to Maelia.
Cyrene’s arm was on fire. It felt like poison burning its way through her soft flesh, and she worried that the monster’s teeth carried venom, like the tip of a Braj’s blade. She shuddered at the thought, but she couldn’t do anything at the moment. Escape first, and assess my wounds later.
Maelia and Ahlvie hauled her to her feet, Ahlvie scooped up her sword and replaced it in its scabbard, and the pair ushered her toward the horses. Cyrene found her stride and started forward at a brisk run, leaving the dead beast behind them. They almost made it to the horses when nearly a dozen creatures attacked.
By the Creator! What can we do against a dozen when we barely survived three?
“Get the horses,” Ahlvie barked as he and Maelia engaged the first.
“I won’t leave you!” Cyrene yelled.
“Go!” he screamed.
“Ahlvie!”
“Go!”
He shoved her in that direction, and she wouldn’t gainsay his honor by denying him.
And so, she took off at a sprint. She had little hope that she could make it to Ceffy or that the horses would outpace these creatures. But she had to try.
Just as she was nearing their hidden location, she walked right into another pack of beasts and froze.
She was no warrior.
She didn’t even have control of her magic.
She was just a girl.
But she would not go down without fighting these mongrels. Her hand was shaky as she removed her sword once more. Despite her muscles screaming in pain, the sword felt lighter and steadier than ever before. It had to be her adrenaline. She was sure. Her body hummed to the tune of the battle, and she took a steadying breath. Underneath the animal’s yellow eyes, she saw a flicker of understanding about her movements.
She was ready.
“Come, beast,” she snarled.
The first one lunged for her but was struck down at her feet with an arrow through its menacing yellow eye.
A battle cry erupted behind her, and a woman soared through the air. She landed lightly on her feet with an ice-white blade in her hand that appeared to be an extension of her body. She was tall with pale, almost white, blonde hair. She wore fierce camouflage britches and a shirt that hugged her form. Her blade whirred through the air, slicing and cutting.
Cyrene was dimly aware that others had joined the battle, but her eyes were locked on the incredible movements of this woman who was unlike any woman she had ever seen. She had ethereal beauty yet a ferocious ability.
After what could have been minutes or hours,
a spatter of dead creatures lay at the woman’s feet.
Cyrene whirled in place and found an even more gruesome display. More humans, unlike she had ever seen, fought the beasts. Their fighting style was delicate and precise. They looked like they were dancing rather than fighting, yet they were efficient in dispatching the creatures.
Cyrene couldn’t spare their saviors too much thought though. She had to get to the horses and save her friends. She took one unsteady step toward the horses and then sprinted. To her shock, the horses remained, unharmed, though they were in a frenzy from the commotion. She went to Ceffy’s side at once, but a scream stilled her steps.
With a resigned sigh, she untied the reins and hoisted her weary body onto Ceffy’s back. She heeled the horse in the direction of the scream, her steel blade withdrawn before her.
Just as she entered the clearing, a beast sank its teeth into the beautiful stranger’s side.
“No!” Cyrene screamed.
The beast jerked around, leaving the woman for death. It prowled toward Cyrene with ten more beasts on its heels. Ceffy reared up in horror at the unnatural creatures before them.
Cyrene held on for dear life. She was sure this was where it ended. They had come to kill, and they meant to see it to the end. She would need more than a blade to get out of this mess.
Cyrene steeled herself and then slid down Ceffy’s side. Cyrene knew that she should have run as far and as fast as she could. But it would not have been fast enough. Her sword sank into the dirt, as if in defeat. When she released her weapon, she imagined she saw a smirk on the monster’s face.
But it didn’t know that, in that moment, the odds turned.
As Cyrene recalled all that she had learned from her magic book, gold letters danced across her vision. She would not yield.
The gateway to her power opened with barely any effort. A dull ache hit her core as the well of energy intensified within her body. The ache grew as more and more power flooded her system, and she coughed and clutched her chest as it filled her to the brim. She doubled over and dug her hands into the fresh dirt. There was too much. The pain was raw. She couldn’t grasp control over it.