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C ora waited impatiently for six days. Six days scouting. Waiting. Hiding. Six days watching. Learning. Listening. Six days of being almost close enough to touch the cages that held starving unicorns without being able to lift a finger to help. There were guards on duty night and day. But that didn’t mean she did nothing . She took everything she’d learned and put her plan into motion.

Tonight, she would do what she came here for.

She’d set the unicorns free.

The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon by the time she reached the hunters’ camp for the second time that day. She’d laid the groundwork for her plan earlier that morning. Now it was time to act. She crept between the trees, her every move silent. Her skirts were tucked between her legs and into her belt to keep them from swishing around her ankles. By now, she’d discovered the quietest route to her destination—and the one that offered the most cover. She’d learned the lay of the camp, got an idea of their guard rotations, their habits. The company was made up of nine men—the four she’d followed plus five who’d already been here when the newcomers arrived. They always left two men to guard the camp while the rest went on their daily hunt from sunrise to sundown. One man guarded the perimeter while the other protected the cages.

Cora heard the footsteps of the perimeter guard drawing near, several paces away. Her pulse kicked up and she whirled behind a tree, pressing in close to its trunk. She knew which path he’d take, knew he rarely left the thin trail he’d worn through the underbrush circling the clearing. Still, it didn’t keep her heart from pounding as his footsteps reached the other side of the tree. She held her breath, assessing the crunch of each step, terrified that she’d hear him pause, shift, turn. But he didn’t. She released a slow exhale as the man continued past. Only then did she dare open her eyes.

Angling her body around the tree, she stole a glimpse at the guard, a man she’d learned was named Paul. He was middle-aged. Shrewd. As foul a man as the rest of them. Her suspicions had proved correct. Every member of the hunting party—both from the initial group and the one they’d joined—bore the brand of a criminal. There were no marks of simple thieves, drunks, or adulterers. They were murderers, kidnappers, or slavers. Men convicted of violent assault. Paul bore the M for murder. Based on what she’d overheard, his victim had been his wife.

She eyed the two flasks he carried on his hip. One was for water, the other for rum. He never drank from anything but those two flasks. However, Cora knew he refilled his rum flask every night from the bottles kept at camp, always taking his fill from the top before the rest of the men started drinking. And drink they did, night after night while she watched from her hiding place. She’d hoped she’d witness them drink themselves into a stupor, become so deeply inebriated that she could sneak into camp, save the unicorns, and leave only a mystery behind for them to wake to. But she’d had no such luck. While some of the men certainly imbibed enough to lose all mental faculties until morning, others observed moderation. That was where Cora would help them along.

She watched the guard until he was out of sight. Thanks to her observations, she knew he’d stop on the eastern edge and stay for the next half hour. Which meant it was time for Cora to move.

She stepped out from behind the tree, doing her best to ignore the hammering of her heart. She shifted her focus to her mental shields, ensuring they were firmly in place. This time, she only strengthened them in one direction—outward—while leaving herself open to receive, to sense, to pick up energies nearby. Her tattooed palms tingled as she drew on the elements, letting them weave around her like a cocoon. She called on air to muffle her footsteps, asked the earth and trees to warp her image as she approached the camp.

That was how she pictured it in her mind, anyway. She’d learned the theory of shielding and had utilized it for the practical purpose of deflecting unwanted outside stimuli. But she’d also heard tales of advanced shielding, of witches who could turn invisible simply by focusing their intent on not being seen, on merging with the elements. Cora had never seen a lick of proof that it was possible. Whenever she’d ask Salinda why there were so many tantalizing tales of magic but very little visible evidence, she’d remind Cora real magic didn’t show off with puffs of purple smoke and glitter. If ever a witch used shielding for invisibility—or, more rationally put, to subtly evade notice—Cora wouldn’t know. That was the whole point.

Despite having once scoffed at such a concept, Cora was willing to try it now. She was willing to try anything. Because tonight she’d need all the luck and magic she could get.

Cora crept to the western side of camp opposite from where the perimeter guard stood watch. Once there, she paused several feet back from the clearing, assessing it. She caught movement from the interior guard—James. Her fingers curled into fists at the sight of him. It took no small effort to wrench her gaze away and study the cages instead. There were six enclosures in total, all constructed of the same materials as the ones she’d seen at the previous camp—barred iron frames bound together with rope. Four of the cages were occupied, the latest catch having been brought in the day before. That unicorn was stronger than the other three. He was the only one that shifted restlessly in his too-small enclosure. She could feel the unicorn’s rage at being contained, his pain whenever his flank made contact with the iron bars.

Cora itched with her desire to barge into camp and cut the unicorns free at once. She knew she could do it. She could catch James by surprise, send an arrow between his eyes, and another to Paul’s heart when he came to check on the source of the commotion. Then she could cut the ropes, open the cages, and that would be the end of it.

But that was precisely the problem. It would be the end of all her efforts.

If she killed the guards, leaving clear evidence of her attack, the remaining hunters would increase their numbers, their defenses. She’d likely never get another chance to infiltrate their camp again. Never save another unicorn. Meanwhile, they’d continue the hunt.

No, she needed a strategy. And she had one. It was why she was here. Why she’d spent days spying followed by nights of stealing. She’d taken a pot here. A flask there. Harvested belladonna—a plant famous for its deadly poison. She wouldn’t merely kill a couple guards and leave the rest to do the duke’s bidding. She’d put an end to the entire operation in a single night. There’d be no one left to hunt unicorns.

Cora’s chest carried a leaden weight, one that formed with the understanding that the Forest People would never approve of her using her knowledge of potions this way. But it didn’t stop her. In her days spying, she’d only grown to revile the hunters more. If their crime brands weren’t already enough—not to mention their braggery over said crimes—she also saw the way they sneered at the unicorns, how they prodded them with iron rods out of sheer entertainment. They didn’t feed the fae creatures. Didn’t bring them water. It was clear that these men had been selected for a reason. Not because they were skilled hunters, but because they were heartless. Cruel. Men whose only other option was the executioner’s block.

If Cora had to lose a piece of her soul to put them down, so be it. She’d do what needed to be done.

Besides, it was too late to turn back now. She’d already slipped into camp that morning and laced the rum with her deadly decoction.

She crept behind the cages to a cluster of pines. There she waited until James paced to the opposite end, chuckled at something Paul said. Then she reached for the bough above her and pulled herself into the tree.

All that was left to do was wait.

Teryn Alante dipped his hands into the rushing waters of the river. The sky was a pink blush overhead, painting the river the colors of sunset. He gathered a handful of cool water and splashed it over his face, scrubbing his stubbled cheeks. Layers of grit and grime were encrusted beneath his palms. He’d need more than a splash of river water to get clean. Still, he doused his face once more, then drenched his hair for good measure.

“What do you think is worse?” Lex asked from farther downstream. Their horses stood between them, drinking their fill after another grueling day of travel. “Riding or Helios’ repugnant face?”

“That’s a tough choice,” Teryn said. He rose from the riverbank and approached Quinne, his golden-brown palfrey. “I might have to choose riding as my least favorite thing right now, considering the repugnant face in question is out of sight for the time being. Which is unfortunate, as I used to love riding. Sorry, old girl.” He added the last part for Quinne and patted her neck.

“What do you think is better, then?” Lex asked, “A warm bed or a hot meal?”

Teryn closed his eyes. “Why are you torturing me? Both. Obviously.”

“You two are pathetic.” Helios appeared behind them, lips curled in a sneer. Just like that, the repugnant face was back.

Lex muttered a string of insults under his breath, then said at proper volume, “I thought you were scouting.”

“Unlike you,” Helios said, “I don't need all day to make myself useful. Tether your horses. Then follow me.”

“Tether your horses then follow me,” Lex mimicked in a high-pitched voice. Teryn suppressed a smirk, but Helios gave no indication he’d heard.

“Come on,” Teryn said to Lex. “Might as well see what he wants.”

They met Helios near a half-visible game trail. Without a word, he led the way through the underbrush until the smaller trail joined a much larger path, this one marked with human and animal footprints alike. A few more minutes down the trail, Helios stopped.

He squatted down and pointed at something in the dirt. “There. This print is larger than the hoof of a normal horse, yet it leaves a lighter indent in the soil.” His voice had taken on a reverent tone, one that almost made him not seem like a total ass. “Do you know what this means?”

“Big feet, skinny body.” Lex said. “My youngest sister is like that.”

Helios turned to them, and Teryn braced himself for the glare that was sure to come. His own lips were laced with venom, ready to intervene should Helios and Lex start verbal sparring like they always did. But when Teryn caught Helios’ expression, the other man’s eyes were wide, a tight-lipped grin stretched across his face. “It means a unicorn has been here.”

That wiped all prior thought from Teryn’s mind. “Are you serious?”

“Serious. Certain.”

Lex shrank back a little. “You mean a real unicorn?”

Helios’ expression shuttered, returning his dour countenance. “Why else do you think we’re here?”

“What’s the plan?” Teryn asked, stealing Helios’ attention back to him. “Do you think we can catch it?”

“No.” Helios returned his gaze to the hoof print. “This unicorn has already been caught.”

“How do you know?”

“See this print next to the unicorn’s? It’s smaller, probably belongs to a boy. An apprentice, perhaps. These marks are about a week old but consistently show up together. This tells me the creature has been caught and is being towed along behind the main company.” He pointed to a cluster of several larger footprints, these ones overlapping. “These belong to the other hunters, also a week old. The prints continue along this trail some ways. I also found fresher tracks about an hour’s walk away.”

Teryn had to hold his tongue to keep from expressing his shock over the fact that Helios was volunteering useful information for once. The unicorn print must have done a number on his brain.

Helios stood and faced them. “We’re going to follow the tracks. The newest ones tell us the hunters have settled into a new base camp by now. The older ones will lead us to it.”

“You’re so certain,” Teryn said, half in awe, half in question.

Helios nodded. “That’s how trained unicorn hunters work. Each party is assigned a specific region. They’ll hunt a small radius for a few weeks at a time, then move to new grounds once they’ve cleared an area. We’re going to catch up to this party.”

Lex grimaced. “Catch up to them and…politely ask to buy their unicorn?”

Helios grinned in a way that was not at all comforting. “Something like that.”

Teryn didn’t like what Helios was leaving unsaid. He had a feeling there would be no polite anything. Shouldn’t that worry him?

His gaze fell on the hoof print. A unicorn print. Proof that everything they were doing wasn’t crazy. Well, he couldn’t say his mission was altogether sane, but for the first time since the Heart’s Hunt began, he had hope. And he was determined to do whatever it took to keep that hope alive.

“Come on,” Helios said. “We can cover more ground before nightfall.”