Page 29

“Alright,” he panted at Briar. “Now— Hey!”

Briar ran at Wick and slammed the hilt of her knife into the center of his ice-clad chest.

A loud crack rang through the trees. The ice shattered, falling off of Wick in huge, freezing chunks.

“That’s more like it,” Briar said breathlessly. She slotted her knife back into its holster and asked, “You with me, big boy?”

“Always,” Wick replied.

He kicked the remaining ice off his feet and turned to Renault, who looked like he deeply regretted his actions.

“Now, hold on,” Renault began.

Wick lunged at him. Renault cursed and raised his crossbow, shooting wildly.

The arrow whizzed uselessly over Wick’s head. He knocked the crossbow out of Renault’s hands and pinned him to the ground by his chest. He made sure to press hard on the stab wound Briar had given him in Yedzeva, digging his claws into the surrounding flesh.

Renault cried out in pain. “Wait! Don’t kill me! I can tell them you’re dead, that we can’t recover the body! They trust me, they’ll believe whatever I say!”

Wick looked over at Briar, who hummed consideringly. Her chest was heaving from the fight, but she did not smell wounded. That was good. If she were, Wick would have killed him without waiting for Briar’s permission.

“Or,” Briar said, swiping her sweaty hair out of her face. “We send a letter from your last surviving team member saying you confirmed my death and want the reward, with a strip of my hair as proof?—”

“What?” Renault said weakly.

“But, oh no, you died tragically in an animal attack before you could come to claim it,” Briar continued. “Wick?”

Wick lunged and dug his fangs into Renault’s throat.

Renault screamed. It quickly turned into wet gurgles as Wick pulled back, stringy flesh connecting his mouthful to the shredded remains of Renault’s neck.

Blood gushed onto the grass. Wick swallowed his lump of meat and ignored the blood frenzy burning at the edges of his mind, slowly heating him up.

Renault let out a final gasp and went still. Briar pressed her boot into his cheek, testing for a reaction. He did not move as she kicked his limp hair over his forehead.

“That’s him dealt with,” she said. She gripped the cracked amulet and turned to Wick. “How are you feeling?”

Wick licked his bloody mouth. The burning was growing hotter inside his skull.

“I am myself,” he said. “For now.”

Briar gave him a short nod and turned to the bowl of fire behind them.

Marigold was crouched next to it. At first, Wick thought she was groping for the scant few coins that had fallen into the grass. Then he realized she was attempting to push herself up and failing, her arms shaking from all her magic.

“Wait,” she croaked. “Briar, you don’t understand!”

“I don’t? Because it looks like you screwed me over so you could get your fucking apothecary,” Briar snarled. She gestured at Wick to step forward.

Wick did. Then he hesitated. Briar still stank of fury, but there was so much sorrow underneath it now that she was looking at her old friend.

“You remember how we grew up,” Marigold blurted. “You remember how many nights we went hungry, all those things we had to do to survive!”

“Yes, and then you went to your cozy magic palace while I starved on the streets,” Briar said coolly. “Is this meant to make me pity you? Because it isn’t working.”

Marigold shook her head, eyes gleaming with tears. “Things have been hard out here! I just want to feel safe. You understand, you must understand. That’s all you want, isn’t it? To finally have enough money to feel safe .”

Briar’s mouth twitched bitterly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, and Wick knew it was a lie. “I want so many riches, I choke on them. Speaking of choking…”

She nodded at Wick. Wick looked back at her beseechingly. The blood frenzy was building, and it wanted nothing more than for him to give himself over to the violence Briar was offering. But he could sense her hesitance even if he couldn’t smell the sadness wafting off of her in waves.

“Wait,” Marigold cried. She shuffled back, her fists full of coins she had managed to salvage from the grass. “Wait, don’t! Help me!”

She tipped her head up to the sky. The temperature dropped so suddenly that even Wick noticed it, and Briar shivered.

“My lord Titan,” Marigold screamed. “Save me!”

At first, Wick thought the sensation running through him was shock. Then Briar shuddered, and he realized it was a tide running through the forest, rushing into Marigold with such force her head snapped back with it.

Marigold’s mouth dropped open. A white light glowed within it, filling her eyes and lifting her from the ground. Wind ran through the trees, cold and biting, so forceful it made Briar stumble into him.

“What’s happening?” Briar demanded.

Wick steadied her and shook his head. The burn in his skull was flaring hotter than ever, and yet the cold felt so familiar.

“I guess she really is a warlock,” Briar yelled over the howling wind. She looked up at him, shielding her eyes. “Titan! Isn’t that?—?”

The wind died down so suddenly that Briar fell silent in the middle of her sentence.

Marigold hovered above them, her limbs dangling uselessly at her sides. Her glowing face was tipped up to the sky. No, not the sky, Wick realized, but to the mountains.

Marigold’s mouth did not move. But the voice that echoed around the trees could come from nothing else.

“ Hello, child, ” said the voice that had been whispering in Wick’s mind since before he could remember.

Wick stepped in front of Briar protectively, curling his remaining wing around her. “Titan. You speak to me, to many of us. Why?”

The voice hummed. “ We are the old instincts. There is not much left of us. Only corpse bones sticking up from the ground, only whispers in your head. You have made us louder. We thank you.”

Briar nudged him from where she was peeking out from behind him. “ Corpse bones ? Are you saying they’re the mountains —wait, not important. Wick, ask if they can fix you!”

The voice made a noise like rocks cracking.

“ Fix ,” it repeated curiously.

Wick’s skin crawled. He held Briar tighter to him and said, “I am plagued by a blood frenzy which makes me kill all I see. This amulet, the witch infused it with you. It is the only thing that calms the frenzy.”

The thing that was once Marigold’s head lolled. It was many moments before it spoke.

“ No ,” it said simply.

“No,” Wick repeated. “No, it is not you?”

“ It is us ,” it rasped. “ But we will not rid you of your primal instincts . You are the purest Skullstalker still living.”

“Pure?” Wick demanded. “I am cursed ! Even now, it invades my head. I can feel it burning inside me. I don’t want?—”

He looked down at Briar, the words sticking in his throat as she looked back at him with those big, bright eyes. He had said the words so many times, but never more than right now.

“I do not wish to hurt anyone,” he whispered.

He touched the amulet hanging over her shirt. Briar covered his hand, squeezing gently.

The voice boomed through the trees. “ There is nothing wrong with you, child. In fact, there is something very right inside you. Many eons ago, all Skullstalkers were like you. Born to wage our wars. Then, at the end, the defects began. All of your Skullstalkers are wrong… except for you. Your ‘blood frenzy,’ as you call it, is your species in its purest form .”

Wick reeled. He had lived his whole life knowing only the scant history his brothers told him, a history even their eldest were unsure of. But none of them had ever suggested this.

“Wick?” Briar asked uncertainly. Her hand was so warm over his, rubbing comfortingly.

“No,” Wick said. “That is not true. I would— We would know.”

“ You were created to destroy, ” the voice continued. “ This is what you were meant to be. Beautiful destruction. ”

“But the amulet,” Wick tried. He opened his hand, revealing its dull glory. It had cracked even further since last night. His only hope—and it was breaking.

“ A mortal mistake ,” the voice said. “Nothing more. Goodbye, child.”

“Shit,” Briar whispered. “Hey, wait! You can’t leave like this!”

She took a step toward the floating Marigold. But Wick was faster, bounding up and seizing her, dragging her down to look her in her glowing face.

“If this is the nature you placed in me,” he hissed, his voice distorting with the blood fury welling inside him, “then I refuse my nature! I am not what you made me!”

“We can sense it,” the voice told him, maddeningly calm. “We feel it burn. The fire swells.”

“And it is not me ,” Wick roared. “I am not this relentless, savage thing unless I will it! I am choice! I am— I?—”

He stuttered to a stop. His head throbbed with heat, the blood frenzy threatening to take over.

Briar rushed to his side. He tried to hold her back, but she ducked under his wing and grabbed his chin.

“Look at me,” she said, trying to force him to look down. “Hey! Wick! Eyes on me, big boy. Don’t give in.”

“Run,” Wick managed. “Hurt me. Do whatever you must.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Briar insisted.

Wick tried to tell her again to run. But the only thing that came from his throat was a roar, rough and hungry.

His claws burst from his fingers, digging into the Titan’s arms. A red tinge enveloped the world.

He could only hope that he devoured Marigold’s body first, giving Briar enough time to flee.

The being that was once Marigold glowed brighter, the white light bleeding red.

“You are ours, ” the voice said.

Wick squeezed his eyes shut. The world disappeared, leaving only a wild pounding of his own blood through his veins, telling him to strike, to hurt, to kill .

But there was something underneath it. Something small and stubborn and beautiful, even when she was tired or pained or sleeping.

She did not run. She had stayed with him, her voice cutting through his frenzy. She was saying many things, but only one word made it through:

“Wick .”

Wick growled, prying his eyes open to meet those of the glowing Titan’s.