Page 35 of A Hunt Bound in Blood

I rode the high of our victory for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Just as Mage Tersey had commanded, we’d moved quick and thought quick, and as a result we were still breathing and had the clue to the fifth signpost in our possession. In what felt like no time, we were close to the halfway point, and I allowed myself the indulgence of believing we might make it home, triumphant, in half the expected time.

Not that the next clue would be a quick one to decipher. From my brief glimpse, I’d noted rows of symbols in a language I couldn’t immediately identify. I needed to sit and take my time with it, which I would do as soon as we stopped for the night. My curiosity had also been piqued by that explosive potion.

Tersey had held a strange fascination with alchemical experiments, and I never imagined I might get a firsthand look at his work. It amazed me that the same man who had created an amulet stable enough to contain a healing enchantment had also veered off the lane and concocted explosives, and I wanted to understand the process Mage Tersey might have used to make it.

Cammon had, perhaps understandably, refused to let me play with the vial, not wanting us to finish what Tersey had started. Since death by explosion was not how I wanted to go, I relinquished my request with only a touch of disappointment.

I also didn’t want to go the way of shifter attack, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across the road, I worried about our odds of avoiding the latter.

“How far are we from the edge of shifter territory?” I asked. That smell of wet dog had gotten stronger since yesterday, and I was starting to think it had less to do with the general outdoors and more to do with the possible shifter watchdogs tracking us, if not the mutts themselves.

Cammon rolled his jaw. “We’re not out of it, unfortunately, but not far. Another two hours, maybe. I’d suggest we press on and make it the rest of the way, but I know the path coming up. Lots of hills and pitfalls. Without being able to see properly, we’re as likely to fall and break an ankle as we are to make it to safety.” His shoulders drooped. “I’d fly us there, but after today, I don’t think I have it in me, not with all our bags. I recommend we press on as long as we can, then set up camp and hope the shifters see reason. We’re obviously not here to stay, and we’ll be out of their hair come morning.”

Unease hugged my insides as I considered the bear shifter’s rage. Reason hadn’t seemed like his strongest personality trait. Not when it came to us leaving his territory, anyway.

However, I had to accept that, once again, I was only standing here now because of Cammon. He’d yet to lead me astray, and if I found it in me to trust him to put that stone down in the proper place, I would trust him in this too.

We walked until the shadows consumed the road, and when we stopped to make camp, I found myself thinking of all the ways I might have died already if Cammon hadn’t been here to help me. I could have summoned my vampiric strength to lift the boulder from the wall, but then I wouldn’t have had the hands free to lift the bramble to reveal the scale.

First the wings; now the brawn. Increasingly I was appreciating just how essential Cammon was to the mission.

Groaning inwardly, I readied myself to inform him as much. I hated admitting it, but the man deserved to hear it.

I waited until we’d set up camp. Dinner was heating over the crackling fire, and I stared into the flames to wrangle my pride into place before turning to him. He sat on the other side of the firepit, his black shirt unlaced at the collar and his chestnut hair loose over his brow, the thick locks taking on a slight curl at the ends. For a moment, I simply took in his handsome features and the way his crimson eyes watched the cooking food, as attentive to the details of dinner as he was to every riddle he’d helped me decipher. My first impression of him as a reckless rogue had been disproved so many times over I was embarrassed that I’d ever thought it true.

“King Evaniel knew what he was doing when he ordered me to enlist you. You’re the reason I’m going to reach this amulet, and I”—the next word lodged in my throat, but I forced it through—“I apologize that it took me so long to recognize it.”

Cammon blinked at me, his long lashes brushing over his high cheekbones, his full lips parting in speechlessness. I nodded, content for him not to reply, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for him.

“You’re underused as a mage advisor. This position you’re trying to get? It should be yours regardless of how this mission turns out. I’ve never seen someone translate an archaic language so quickly. Especially not under pressure.” He smirked. “And in rhyme.”

My cheeks heated, and I turned my attention to the fire. “Yes. Well. I suppose it’s good to know that my years of study have paid off. I may not have much of a life outside the library—no pets, no lover, barely any friends—but you need someone to translate Perganic into Terlish? I’m your girl.”

I’d meant to keep my answer light but suspected my bitterness had poked through.

“You know Demonic?” he asked, and I was relieved that was the detail he’d latched on to. His surprise carried an undertone I couldn’t place, but I might have sworn he was impressed. The warmth in my cheeks spread. No one was ever impressed by my academic accomplishments—except maybe my mother and Ashara. Usually I received smirks and eyerolls whenever I brought my research to the council. His Majesty respected it, of course, but the only evidence I had of that were his requests for more research. It was nice to have a… colleague, however temporary.

“Only on paper. Believe me, you wouldn’t want me to speak it. I’d probably find myself bound to a lesser demon for the rest of my living and non-living existence.”

“Nah, lesser demons don’t like bindings. Too much commitment.”

I laughed, and to my horror, it came out closer to a giggle. The only person who had ever evoked such a childish noise from me was Ashara, and usually when too much wine was involved.

The corners of Cammon’s eyes crinkled with a responding smile, preventing me from feeling too self-conscious over it.

He reached into the flames to turn the food, then licked his fingers to ease the sting and nodded to me. “Come on, then. What does the next clue say?”

My eyes were focused on his mouth where his tongue had run over his fingertips, and I needed a moment to process what he’d asked. I tightened my self-control and reached into my pocket for the strip of parchment.

“It looks like he’s gone for a mishmash of languages this time. The first lines are in Old Golthic again. Easy. ‘Halfway to five, you’ll find a man with long grey locks and an ashen tan.’”

“So we’re looking for some kind of scraggly immortal sitting by the side of the road?” Cammon asked.

“I doubt he’d make it so easy.” I squinted at the next words, which remained an unintelligible blur until I registered the language. “Then he jumps to Oceal.”

Cammon frowned. “Oceal?”

“The language of the sea people. It’s still spoken by them today, but considering their population numbers in the thousands, it’s incredibly rare. Shit.”