Page 101 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

Signs of the mutts’ presence faded, and I hoped that meant Tersey’s directions had taken us off their expected course. If we could claw back a little more time, a little more space, we could escape their pursuit and I would have a chance to make plans of my own.

I allowed Glory to lead us while I kept watch on our surroundings, and sooner than I’d prepared for, we drew to a stop in front of a moss-drenched ruin. I might have ignored the place as insignificant if it weren’t for the pouring water carved into the collapsed columns of the archway. Just as Tersey had drawn on his map.

Although we knew we’d arrived, neither of us took the next step.

“Think it’s safe?” Glory asked, peering through the crumbled stone to the interior of what looked like an old temple.

I set a foot on the stair, and when it held my weight, I shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

The ruin radiated a sense of peace, with the centre of the structure open to the sky, bathing the area in sunlight. Natural growth covered the fallen stone, and birds and other animals had made their nests among the clutter.

“What do you think this place was a hundred years ago?” I wondered aloud. “I can almost picture Tersey bungling his way through a religious ceremony to drop the amulet at the base of this tree.”

Glory peered down what might have been an old hallway, the roof still intact and the area shrouded in shadow. “I haven’t the faintest. He doesn’t make any mention of it in his journal. Nothing about the amulet’s final resting place, in fact. I’ve always found that odd. It’s like he was so invested in the first half of his plan, but when he reached the end, something changed for him. It became less of a game, maybe? I thought he just got lazy with his notes, but after the unfinished instructions at the last signpost and his choice of this temple to leave the amulet, I wonder if it was something bigger than that. Like he lost interest.”

“Lost heart.”

Glory met my eye. “Like he realized he wouldn’t use this amulet again and, in the end, didn’t care if anyone else found it. Maybe because it sank in that the reason he’d been prolonging his life was no longer around.”

I was beginning to understand how that might change a person.

With every step we took towards the centre of what had to have been a massive building, I inhaled the rich scents of decayed leaves and loam. Of mossy stone and new growth and damp earth. It tickled my senses, made my mouth water, and I pulled Glory closer to my side, wanting to share this moment with her.

We took our time. Not only because the energy in this ruin seemed to discourage any kind of rushed movement, but because we both knew what we were walking towards: an ending.

The king’s betrothed would be saved and Golthwaine would avoid a war, which would be a triumph, but for the people making that future possible, everything was coming to a close.

Unfortunate that we couldn’t afford to dawdle.

We climbed a low set of stairs towards the centre of the ruin, and both of us ground to a halt as we stared at the vast space in front of us. It was clear by the design that there had never been a roof here, collapsed or otherwise. This room had been built to stay open to the sky, with the towering red oak in the middle of it. Its thick roots stretched out in all directions, some of them exposed and driving into the stone, the rest undoubtedly dug so deep into the earth that the entire building must be sitting over the base of it.

But the tree itself…

Glory released a heavy breath and, with trembling fingers, repinned the hair that had tumbled from her loose bun. I tasted her nervousness, and for the first time since we’d found that last clue, I joined in her uncertainty.

The tree had been destroyed. By the charred branches, I suspected a storm had come through at some point in the past hundred years and split it in two, leaving heavy bark and half the trunk across the ground.

Had the amulet been destroyed along with the tree? Had it been buried under that immovable mass?

I squeezed Glory’s shoulder and started a tour around the perimeter of the room, searching for any area that might have lent itself to treasure being buried beneath it. For Glory’s sake—and my own—I hoped the Fates had finished making us their entertainment and the fallen tree hadn’t blocked our victory.

Glory was still standing where she’d stopped, her lips parted, despair written into every line of her face. Although she said nothing, pain emanated from her pores as all her hopes and dreams washed away at the sight of this mess, and it steeled me against my brief bout of hopelessness.

We would not fail here. I didn’t care if I had to tear this whole fucking tree up from the roots, we would find the amulet and get to the ship.

Pulling from my years of experience, I took a second walk around the room, stepping carefully over the fallen branches and split wood. All my hunting, all my exploring had taught me to look for the subtle signs of unnatural changes. Trees made it easy. So much easier than shifting sand dunes or eroding coastlines. There was a solidness to them that meant that, even a hundred years later, Tersey’s interference would still be detectable.

On my fourth loop around, I found it. A perfect spot for someone to dig and expect whatever they buried not to be found. The way the roots curved, creating a wooden embrace around the earth, called to me like a beacon. It was half under the fallen tree, but even with the branches in the way, I was able to dig the toe of my boot into the dirt. When I wasn’t immediately stopped by more roots, my hopes rose.

“Come and help me.”

Glory blinked out of her dazed stare and met my eye. “With what?”

I grinned and pulled my shirt over my head. “Digging.”

I snapped two large sticks off the fallen branch, handed one to Glory, and set to work. Glory dropped to her knees and tore at the earth. We worked together as the sun shifted overhead, veering towards the western horizon. The shadows darkened, made visibility difficult, but we didn’t stop. When Glory’s branch snapped, she reached for a palm-sized rock and kept digging. Four feet, five, six. Blood joined the dirt as we split our skin and fingernails to clear the area. The two of us were crouched inside the hole by the time my branch knocked against something hidden under the earth.

Glory sucked in a breath and held it, and I tasted her trepidation. I kept my own hopes to a tempered simmer. It could be a root or a rock or any other number of things buried down there. We wouldn’t know until we brought it up.