Page 31 of A Hunt Bound in Blood
Before she could notice, I rolled to my feet and dug through my pack in search of breakfast.
“Nothing. I’m as much in the dark as you are.” Mostly true. I didn’t know anything for sure, but I had my suspicions. Not that I’d spent too much time running through our situation last night, too distracted by other, more compelling ideas. “I think we need to face the possibility that word of our hunt has gotten out. An amulet that can heal anything? It’s exactly the kind of prize the more lucid mutts would want for themselves. Or anyone, really. It could be they’re not the only ones after us.”
Glory pursed her lips with a rumble of consideration. “What about the shifter’s threats? Should we take them seriously?”
I glowered into my pack. “I would. They’re nothing if not territorial. If they think our being here poses a threat to their young, they won’t hesitate to hunt us down.”
A moment’s silence followed my answer, and then Glory was moving again. “Right. Then we should reach the next signpost as early as possible so we make it to their border by nightfall. I’d rather not have another interrupted evening if we can avoid it. Thanks to that shifter, I’m tired and grumpy and can only hope my mental faculties aren’t affected too much to decipher the next clue.”
She stomped into the woods to deal with her morning needs, and while she was gone, I did the same. By the time she returned, her hair was up in her usual bun, though looser than it had been, and her skirt and waistcoat—today’s a rich black with vined embroidery—were properly in place.
I’d readied a few snacks that would be easy to eat on the go, and we were off as the first rays of sunlight spilled through the trees.
We hadn’t made it far before something buzzed. Glory stopped and canted her head, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise.
“Your pack seems to be vibrating,” I pointed out.
Her eyes widened, and she dropped her belongings to the ground to tear her bag open and pull out a small white crystal. When she rubbed her thumb across the surface, a voice filled the otherwise silent road.
“Mage Dolan?” King Evaniel asked, and I arched an eyebrow at the mage. Direct communication with the Nightfall King himself? He must truly have believed this amulet would solve Golthwaine’s problems to have given Glory a personal messaging crystal.
Unless there was something else between them?
An acidic heat coiled inside me that I refused to name.
“I’m here, Your Majesty,” she said.
“Good. We’re nearly a week in, and I need an update.”
Glory’s cheeks flushed. I tasted embarrassment and indignation and suspected the former stemmed from the fact that we hadn’t made it as far as she would have liked, while the latter was because he hadn’t left her to handle this without looming over her shoulder.
“Yes, Your Majesty. We’ve found the first three landmarks and are aiming to reach the fourth today. We’re in the middle of shifter territory, so we’ve come a good distance. I believe we’ll be able to find the artifact as planned within the four-week deadline.”
“Good. Tensions with Soldara are threatening to turn hostile. As long as Princess Brynna remains stable, we’ll be able to avoid conflict, but I’m trusting you to work quickly.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll have more updates for you when we speak next.”
“See that you do.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but the glow of the crystal dimmed until the surface went dark and lifeless. Glory tucked the stone back into its pocket, slung her pack over her shoulders and continued along the road. “I was going to mention the spike trap we left behind,” she explained. “And ask if he knew anything about the mutts. Maybe it’s good I didn’t. I wouldn’t want to worry him.”
I scoffed. “You think your king would be worried about mutts? He’d probably be annoyed that you couldn’t handle them on your own.”
She cast me a sidelong glance. “You’re right. But he also might have… I don’t know. Sent reinforcements? Someone to deal with them so we can focus on the goal?” She pressed her lips together. “No, you’re right. If he’s bracing for a possible war with the fae, he’ll need to keep his soldiers close to home. Even if he did send someone to help, we’d probably be close enough to the amulet by the time they reached us for it not to matter. We’ll just have to stay vigilant.”
For the rest of the day, that was exactly what I did, and more than once I detected signs that the bear shifter was correct. Although I didn’t catch sight of any mutts, I did notice tracks in the mud and the scent of animals on the air—more rancid than shifter. Shifters had the decency to bathe.
I didn’t mention anything to Glory, not wanting to worry her, but I accepted I’d have to fill her in if I spotted anything more than tracks. So far the creatures had kept their distance. The fact that we were still in shifter territory was probably a good reason for their invisibility. They didn’t want to shed blood and bring the packs down on their own heads. As soon as we crossed the territory line, that protection would be gone. Unfortunately, we also couldn’t afford to loiter and rile the shifters. Our best option was to press forward as quickly as possible. And, if we could, hide our tracks better.
While I mused on how we might do that, Glory followed the maps and led us towards the mine. Every once in a while, she muttered under her breath. Not like she was annoyed, but more like she was trying to work something out. I offered to help a few times, but she waved me away, her brow furrowed in concentration as she looked from the map to the area around us.
With her attention focused elsewhere, I took the opportunity to watch her. I noticed the way her hips swayed beneath her shapeless skirt, the way she navigated around pitfalls in the road better with her eyes on the map than she did when she was looking ahead. I caught the faint twitches in her shoulders and neck when an animal announced its presence—even when their sounds were so faint her human ears shouldn’t have been able to hear them.
She was definitely harbouring secrets, and it nagged at me that I couldn’t suss them out.
Was this secret the real reason Evaniel kept her close? Did that icebox of a man know what made this surprising woman tick?
Again that flush of acidic heat, and this time I couldn’t stop myself from acknowledging it. I couldn’t explain my jealousy, just as I couldn’t explain why I’d kissed her, or why I’d been inclined to tear that bear shifter to pieces for laying a hand on her. I neither wanted nor appreciated these instincts she’d drawn out in me, but I also couldn’t seem to shake them. And while giving in to them struck me as incredibly foolish—she was my pain-in-the-ass partner on a temporary mission—the roguish part of me craved the unknown. What would happen if we let the walls between us drop and explored the rising tide of desire?