“Give him some space,” he says.
I cast him a narrow look. “You don’t know what he needs. He’s just a kid.”
“Doesn’t look like he’s been a kid for a while.” Kiran removes his dirty shirt to launder, and replaces it with another from his saddlebag. My eyes trail over the bandages on his chest and the bruising that leaks out from beneath them. I look away, embarrassed, and catch sight of a green bottle in his pack he stole from the pharmacy. With a flash of fury I think of Salma.
As much as it pains me, Kiran is right. My little cousin has permanent shadows beneath his eyes. His youth has been stolen by the terrible things he must have seen in the city. I wish I’d been there to protect him.
We sweep the area clean of our tracks and leave at once. The strongest riders take the twins. Nina with Lorcan on the palomino. Tam with Kiran on Dell.
Daphne and I follow on foot. A warm, reckless feeling is expanding inside of me, but I refuse to let it loose. Not yet, I tell myself. There will be time to celebrate once we make it to the mountains. Time for the children to heal. But I think I might erupt as the miles between us and the city add up.
* * *
AFTER A WHILE NINA trades places with Daphne. She walks beside me, her little warm hand in mine. Every once in a while I catch her looking up at me as if to make sure I’m really here, and when she does, I kiss her head and tell her how brave she is. Behind us, Lorcan leads the palomino while Daphne rests her feet and rides in silence.
As the night darkens, I hear Kiran talking softly to Tam.
“… so Mother Hawk says she’ll give a glass arrow to the first beast to make it across Isor, and whoever wins it won’t ever be hungry again. The bear takes the lead…”
“It wasn’t a bear.”
These are the first words Tam’s spoken since the pharmacy. I slow, but am careful not to turn around and ruin this moment. I’m surprised Kiran remembers this story; it was the one I told Daphne while he was passed out with fever. Hearing mention of it now reminds me of the way my ma used to tell us not to worry because she had the glass arrow. I wish I could tell her I’ve got it now. I’m going to make sure they’re safe and healthy. I’ll do whatever it takes.
“I’m glad to hear it,” says Kiran. “I’m not so keen on bears these days.”
I wince quietly.
“It was a fox,” says Tam. “And a deer.”
“And the fox wins?”
“The deer wins. You talk funny.”
“Not nearly as funny as you.”
“Neely,” copies Tam.
I can’t help it, I laugh into my sleeve.
“Great,” grumbles Kiran.
I want to hear Tam’s voice again. I want him to laugh too, but I realize Lorcan, taking up the rear, has pulled up short. At this warning we all grow very still. The darkness seems to thicken, making it impossible to see more than a few paces away.
Brax backtracks, curving silver tail the last piece of his sleek body swallowed by the night. I wish I could see through those ice-blue eyes to what lurks behind us. To hear what he does, instead of the pulse echoing in my ears.
“Clover?” Daphne whispers, frightened. I hush her.
An instant later we see the narrow beams of the searchlights cutting through the trees.
Trackers.
“Run!” I shove Nina towards Kiran and Tam. He reaches down and pulls her in front of him, and with only a quick, concerned glance my way, turns Dell and sets her galloping into the dark.
Brax begins to bark, a loud warning that ends in a snarl. Fear surges through me. I strain my eyes into the black, but see nothing. Then, Lorcan grabs my waist and hoists me up behind Daphne. One slap on the animal’s rump and we’re off, running full out through the forest.
It’s so dark, I can barely make out the trees as they whip by. Daphne ducks low to avoid the branches, and I cling to her body for dear life, the flex and pump of the horse’s muscles making it near impossible to keep my seat.
Shouts break through the rush of the wind in my ears, and I squeeze my heels harder into the horse’s ribs. The Trackers are close; I can almost feel their breath on my neck.
“Faster!” I urge, not just to Daphne, but to Kiran too, wherever he is. He must get the twins away. My mind turns to Lorcan, left behind with Brax, and I feel like a coward for leaving them, but I have to make sure the twins are safe.
A shot slaps through the trees, too far away to hit us. Another, this time closer. Guns. The telltale echo warns us an instant before the bullet whizzes past my thigh. A loud crack, and a bullet lodges into the trunk of a tree on our right, spraying splinters into my side.
Through it all, I hear the howl. Brax is close; he must be following us.
Daphne’s as low as she can get on the horse’s neck, and I’m pressed flush against her. I don’t turn back now. I can’t. The wind and the lowest branches catch my hair, ripping pieces away, searing me with fresh terror.
Crack! This one followed by a high-pitched yelp.
The cry sinks through right to my bones, and I can’t help it, I don’t even think about it.
I look back.
Just as I’m turning my head, the horse swings around a tree in our path. I slide off the side, Daphne’s cry in my ear. My fingers grasp for anything to right myself, fumbling over the thick wool saddle pad. Daphne grabs my knee just as the horse jumps over a fallen log. For one beat I’m flying, weightless and free. The darkness surrounds me. My arms spin like swinging ropes.
And then I crash.
I hit the log first. My hip connects hard, and the rotting wood collapses under my weight. I roll to a stop, my shirt twisted around my neck. The stars waver and grow dim.
My heart pounds, drowning out all other sounds.
The breath returns and with it, pain. It screams through my body like I’ve jumped into a fire.
“Clover! Aya!”
Who is that? Her voice is unclear. My mouth tastes like copper and my face is wet.
“Aya! Get up, get up!” Daphne’s looking down at me from atop the yellow horse. Foam drips from his muzzle as he chews the bit.
Brax. Panic makes me as strong as a Watcher. I leap to my feet, feeling my muscles flex. My eyes must be bleeding, because I see only red. I must go back for my wolf friend. I have to see what’s happened to him.
But I can’t.
I reach for Daphne’s outstretched hand and hoist my foot into the stirrup just as two more shots ring out.
A ferocious beast appears, black like the sky, fast as a hammer striking a nail. Its muscular chest rams into my body, sending me sprawling again. Its front hooves claw the sky. I scream, realizing I’m about to get trampled, and twist out of the way just as the hooves come down beside my head.
Another horse is coming. I feel the ground shaking with its approach. When I look over my shoulder, I see her. A chestnut mare with white rings around her eyes.
“No!” I shout.
Kiran’s come back for me. Alone.
The familiar twang of an arrow, and then the Tracker atop the black steed gives a muffled grunt and slides off the saddle, landing on the ground with the thud of dead weight. His horse bolts. From where I am, I can see the arrow rising from the right corner of the man’s chest, but when I look up, Kiran’s bow is still notched, and Daphne’s hands are empty. They’re both looking beyond me, and when I follow their line of sight I see another rider.
I jolt up, but stop myself from running when I see the long, dark jacket, stretching to the man’s knees, and the dirt-stained shirt peeking out from his collar.
Lorcan. He’s riding a Tracker’s horse. Before I can think of what this means, another yell comes from the woods. Lorcan turns in the saddle and releases a second arrow. Somewhere in the dark another Tracker falls.
Two, maybe three downed Trackers. All at Lorcan’s hand.
My father has saved us. Almost.
There’s one more. He’d been holding back, behind the other three. Now I see his lig
ht whipping away as he escapes towards Glasscaster. We have no time to wait. We must press on before he returns with more bounty hunters.
Lorcan nods at us then spins his horse around and tears after them.
Kiran dismounts and leaves Dell’s reins with Daphne as he approaches the body. He crouches, removing something from the dead man’s coat. As I move closer he crumbles it in his hands and rises to face me.
“You all right?” There’s something worrisome in his voice; it’s low and trembling, and when I’m close enough to look into his eyes I can see the fury there.
“The twins,” I say, grabbing his arms. “Where are they?”
“In a tree by the pond up ahead. They were well hidden before I turned back.”
Kiran doesn’t even attempt to block my path as I stare down at the face of the man who tried to trample me.
It’s Aran. His ferret face is frozen in shock. His silver hair is spread over the ground in long greasy points. I snatch what is in Kiran’s hand—a crumpled paper—and bite down on my bottom lip when I recognize my own face on the wanted poster.
“Why’s he got this?” I ask. “I thought Drivers were supposed to look out for each other. You said they were supposed to look out for each other!”
He snatches the paper back and stuffs it into his pocket.
“I think … he thought he was,” Kiran says, muttering curses under his breath. “He must have remembered you from the Garden. He saw me with you once, questioned me for days about it. I never told him who you were. When he saw us in the city, he must have thought I broke the rules.” His hands are latched behind his neck.
In my mind I can see it: Aran pulling my poster off the wall, taking it to the Trackers.
“He meant to have you killed,” I say. “For stealing me.”
Kiran’s expression is grim. I look down at Aran again, but any remorse I might have felt for him is gone. He nearly got us killed. He might yet.
“We have to hide the bodies,” I say. We have only a short time left before more Trackers come after us.
He nods. “I’ll do it.”
I shake my head. “It’ll be faster if I help.” I look to Daphne, but she doesn’t need me to say the words.
“I’ll find them,” she says.
“Keep going until you hit the river,” says Kiran. “We’ll catch up with you.”
She goes, taking my hope with her.
* * *
IT’S SICKENING, BUT WE succeed in shoving Aran’s body beneath an overgrown manzanita bush. The branches grab at his clothes, but eventually we’ve finished the job. Kiran doesn’t say anything, but I wonder if he wants to. My people bury the dead; to leave him like this is the ultimate punishment. If his soul is not sung on it will stay here, wandering, hopeless for another life.
We don’t have time to linger. There’s one more body in the dark nearby that we have to find, not to mention whoever was riding the horse before Lorcan.
“Have you seen Brax?” I ask, knowing what Kiran’s answer will be.
He shakes his head.
My chest is hurting, and as we search through the dark for the other Tracker, I look for any flash of silver.
“We’ll split up,” says Kiran. “Stay close. We don’t find him soon, we’re moving on.”
I couldn’t agree more.
It’s impossible to find anything the forest means to keep hidden. The roots of the trees trip me as I venture further into the shadows, but the body is nowhere. I search around every boulder, trying to remember where that yelp came from, just as I’m trying to remember where the Tracker fell.
I tell myself Brax is fine. When I threw the rock at him in the city he scrammed, and that’s just what he’s doing now. Sulking. I’ll probably pay for it later.
Finally, I find the Tracker. He’s already halfway under a felled trunk, and his arms are beneath him, so bent they’ve got to be broken. I wish more than anything Kiran was with me now. I swallow down the burning bile in my throat and refuse to look at the dead Tracker’s face as I get low and shove him into the brush. In a hurry, I grab some nearby branches and cover him up. It’s good enough for now.
“Kiran!” I call, as loud as I dare.
First there’s nothing, then the crunching steps of someone on foot. He’s moving slowly, and for an instant I consider that maybe it’s not him—Kiran would be in more of a hurry. But then he makes his way into a small clearing, back bowed to support the weight of the heavy load that heaps over his arms.
My stomach twists so hard I almost double over. It’s small enough to be Daphne or one of the twins. I rush towards them, stopping short when I catch a flash of silver in the starlight.
“Brax?”
Kiran meets me in the middle of the clearing and lays the wolf’s long body on the ground. He’s gentle, too gentle, like he’s been carrying a sick child.
I fall to my knees, running my hands over Brax’s long face, lifting his head. His neck is limp. I shake his legs, but he doesn’t pull them back. His silver coat is soiled by slick blood, gleaming black in the moonlight.
“Come on, Brax,” I say, quietly. “Come on, boy.”
I hear a rustle in the trees above us. The flapping of a bird’s wings. I need to concentrate if I’m going to help him, but sounds are too loud and my fear is too sharp.
“Sh-shepherd’s purse. It’ll stop the bleeding. You have to find it. It l-looks like a dandelion.” I use my shirt to stop the blood. “Kiran, please!” I shout when he doesn’t move.
He stands. I think he means to go find the flower, and the twisting in my stomach loosens just a little, but he doesn’t. He crouches behind me, and his arms slowly wrap around my body to pry me away.
“No!” I bury my fingers in Brax’s coat. He’s still warm.
I just need a little more time. I can stop the bleeding. I can heal Brax. I saved Kiran from the wire wound, I can do this. And then we’ll be gone, all of us, safely hidden in the mountains.
“Let me go.”
Kiran’s grip is unyielding. One arm around my shoulders. The other around my waist. I writhe against him. He falls back onto his heels, rocking steadily.
“We don’t have time, Kiran!”
Brax is still.
I see him as a puppy. Hear his proud little bark. He watches over me in the solitary yard. My head rests on his shoulder while we sleep. He keeps me alive so I have to keep him alive.
“Let’s go home,” I say between sobs. “Get up, boy. We’ve got to go. Get up!”
I’m going to teach him how to guard our camp. He’s going to come with me to hunt grouse and fish. My wolf is never going to eat trash again.
A rumble begins in Kiran’s chest. A low hum parts his lips, pressed against my hair just above my ear. His voice cracks, then grows stronger.
Kiran’s singing. He’s singing Brax’s soul on to Mother Hawk. Like I did for Bian and Metea. Like I did for my ma. I don’t ask how he knows to do this, I just wish he’d stop. Brax isn’t ready. He hasn’t even seen how good freedom can be.
“No,” I tell Kiran, shaking my head. My face is wet with tears. We don’t have time for this, we have to go.
Kiran doesn’t stop. His voice lifts. His grip never loosens and he keeps rocking. Front and back. Front and back. The air is so thick I can barely breathe. The night is so dark it masks all my senses. Everything but the pain.
Brax is dead.
The fight dies inside of me, and I sag in Kiran’s arms. My lips stay sealed, but a scream echoes inside my ribs.
Kiran stands slowly, pulling me with him. I rest my head back on his shoulder. It takes me a moment to realize he’s speaking to someone.
Lorcan. He stands silently beside us. I don’t know how long he’s been there.
They want me to go. To leave Brax here, half under the brush with the same scum who took his life. And much as I hate it, they’re right.
We must move on. We’ve already been here too long.
I detach from Kiran’s chest.<
br />
“Did you find the other one?” I ask Lorcan, my voice weak.
Lorcan shakes his head.
“We should split up, go different directions,” says Kiran.
“They’re looking for me,” I say. It’s clear now if they come after me, they’re going to find the twins.
My gaze lifts to meet Lorcan’s. I don’t have the strength to feel as grateful for what he’s done as I should. All I can do is beg for his help one more time.
“You have to take care of them. You can protect them. All of them. Daphne too.” I hesitate. “And when I’m sure the Trackers won’t follow, I’ll meet you at our mountain.”
A strange look passes over Lorcan’s face. His brows pinch, and he runs his knuckles absently down his throat.
“I’ll bring her home,” assures Kiran. My throat swells with emotion.
A few moments later, when Lorcan and the palomino are gone, I turn to Kiran and say, “I have to bury Brax.”
He doesn’t say a word, he just nods.
CHAPTER 23
WE LAY BRAX’S BODY to rest between two pine trees, where the ground is soft and less riddled by roots. Because of our hurry, the grave is too shallow. There’s not even a stone to mark the spot. It is a far cry from the hero’s funeral he deserves, but it’s all we can do. When we’re done, my fingernails are ripped and dirty and my hands are bright red with cold.
“I’m sorry, Brax.”
These are the only words I can think to say. As soon as they’re uttered, Kiran hoists me up atop Dell, and together we ride hard southwest.
The sun rises what seems like too soon, and with it, new concern for my family. I hope Daphne has found the twins, and that they’ve arrived at the river, and that Lorcan is there to protect them. I tell myself right now they’re safer with someone else, but it feels wrong.
Every emotion within me is worn thin, like the ragged seams of my clothes. My temper is just on the edge of burning. My eyes are filled to the brim with tears. I even giggle a few times, for no reason. Amidst all these edges is a hole, right in the center of my chest. The one Brax used to fill.
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