Page 17 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

I tuned the demon prince out. I would not let him ruin this moment for me. Even if part of me agreed with him. I found it interesting that the words only rhymed once translated and took it as a sign that I’d interpreted correctly. To Cammon, I settled for saying, “The clue confirms what the notes say and what we’ve already figured out. The location of the next signpost.”

He snorted. “So that’s the nature of these riddles, is it? We find them, rub some grass on them, and we’re good to go on to the next? Why do you need me again?”

That had been my point all along. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but be confused. Based on the notes, I’d expected… more. Not that I was about to complain.

On the contrary, I was ready to celebrate. Although I did my best to keep my expression professional as I tucked the bark with the clue into my pack, inside I was dancing. That giant if had been answered, and my work had paid off. Yes, the odds of finding this amulet remained slim, but there was the possibility they’d land in my favour, which was more than I’d known when I’d woken up this morning. We were moving in the right direction. I was on my way.

Finally, after years of hoping, everything I wanted in life felt possible.

Cammon

X

I couldn’t stop staring at this woman. This stuck-up stick-in-the-mud who’d impressed me so far with nothing except for her ability to look down her nose at everyone, bind her hair into a solid, and button her collar high enough that it should have cut off her air supply.

Despite everything about her that made my balls want to shrivel up, I found myself experiencing an uncomfortable kinship with her.

From the moment she’d laid eyes on that tree, she’d transformed from the used-up piece of dry parchment into a living, breathing person. Not just living, but alive. The sparkle in her hazel eyes, the flush in her cheeks, the way she struggled to hide the smile that would not be kept down made me realize that somewhere beneath all her buttons was a human being with more passion than the majority of creatures experienced in their lives.

Over a piece of tree bark and a tiny wooden box.

Most people might not understand it, but all my years roaming from one side of the continent to the other in search of treasure meant I was in a perfect position to appreciate her excitement.

My vision sharpened the longer I watched her, the finer details of her face—the dimple in her right cheek, the way the sun brought out hints of gold and red in her dark hair—coming into clear focus.

I forced myself to turn away as my breeches tented, and after a few deep breaths, sense returned.

“Are you ready to move on?” I asked, and cleared my throat around the gruffness that lined my words.

“I am.”

None of the enthusiasm I’d read in her eyes transferred to her voice. She sounded as dry and serious as the woman I’d met and the woman who’d walked into the inn, and I was grateful. I didn’t need complications, and that’s just what she would be if I started to find her… interesting.

But my interest didn’t wane as we continued in silence along the road towards the location of the second signpost. If anything, it increased. After so many hours, I expected to hear the first complaints about the journey, but she said nothing. Not even the faintest grumble about the weight of her pack and extra unnecessaries. Gloria Dolan was far from muscular. She appeared lithe and trim, but more like someone who spent too much time working to remember to eat than someone used to lifting massive weight. Her belongings should have had her breaking a sweat at the very least.

That she appeared unaffected by her burden intrigued me, and despite all my efforts not to care, I couldn’t help but wonder why.

Driven by curiosity, I allowed her to lead the way and took the opportunity to watch her from behind. The sway of her hips with every step, the smoothness of her tread, the rare glimpse of her trim, black-stockinged calves where they extended from the tops of her boots—the only part of her attire I considered practical for our current purpose. Nothing I noticed gave away how she carried her effects so easily.

Then again, she was a mage. I hadn’t bothered to ask what variety since I didn’t care, but perhaps that was the answer. An air mage could potentially work an enchantment to lighten her load.

The longer I considered the puzzle, the more I accepted my suspicion was correct, and my curiosity ebbed. Magic did little to impress me, and while Glory’s abilities meant I wouldn’t be expected to shoulder her pack once her muscles tired, her power was no exception.

I caught sight of the sun’s position in the sky, much closer to the western skyline than I’d realized, and my stomach rumbled. “We should stop to eat.”

She sent me a contemptuous look over her shoulder. “I hardly think that’s necessary. It’s not that much farther to the second signpost. I told you, Cammon, I’m not going to drag my feet.”

I drew to a sharp stop and set my hands on my hips. “Look, mage, I get that you think you know everything, and that’s nice for you, but I know treasure hunting. Eating is one of the most critical elements of the job. Food helps your energy, your strength… your temper.”

She stopped, turned, raised an eyebrow towards her hairline. “My temper is just fine, thank you very much.”

“Mine isn’t. We’ll stop, have a quick bite, and be back on the road. You’re welcome to keep going, but we’re not stopping any earlier tonight because you get hungry.”

I sat down on a rock by the side of the road and dug into my pack for something quick. Glory hesitated a minute longer before she huffed and joined me.

We didn’t speak while we ate, and I pretended not to notice when she pulled off her boots and rubbed her foot with a pained grimace. I especially averted my gaze when she pulled her boot back on and her skirt climbed up her leg, revealing more of the black stocking hugging the long, firm limb.

Our pause lasted long enough for the sweat to cool on my brow, and then we were off again, keeping a better pace as we moved towards evening. By my reckoning, we would reach the second signpost shortly, which would give us enough time to make more distance before we set up camp. I knew of two or three good places we could spend our first night, but my knowledge of the area would dry up once we moved farther outside the city. I hadn’t been this way in over five years and had no idea what changes—or what dangers—might have moved in since then.