Page 21

21

C ora stood in shadow, eyes trained on the man. Fury roared through her blood as she watched him recover from their fight. Part of her wanted to take aim from between the trees and shoot him down before he even knew her arrow was coming. Instead, she remained motionless, silent, waiting until he left the cherry tree—strangely, with a falcon on his shoulder—before she dared leave her hiding place. Once the man was out of sight, she retrieved her cloak from where she’d left it before she’d sprung her attack, and stormed off into the woods. She made it only a few steps before Valorre appeared before her.

“What were you thinking, Valorre?” She halted before him with her hands on her hips. “You should have run before he spotted you. That’s what I did. The first time, at least.” She’d been in the middle of bathing in the stream when she’d seen the man stalk down the opposite bank. As soon as he’d passed her, she’d scrambled out of the stream and donned her clothing as fast as she could. By the time she was dressed and had located Valorre, the man was about to make his kill.

I would have ended his life. You should have seen how he trembled before my might. His spear was not iron. It would have merely tickled .

She rolled her eyes and started off again. Valorre kept pace at her side. She glanced at him a few times, eyes falling on his flank where he’d been struck by Erwin’s whip. The wounds had healed but it didn’t stop her from remembering how his skin had split beneath the iron barbs. Her heart sank as she reached out to touch his soft hide. “You’re made of flesh like anything else. You may be particularly sensitive to pure iron, but steel can wound just as deep.”

I will not cower before a boy.

Cora wanted to argue that he was far from a boy. He may not have been like the men from the duke’s hunting parties, but he was tall. Broad. Strong. Very strong. The way he’d whirled her around, pulling her against his chest when he’d tried to disarm her. The way he’d pinned her on her back and wrenched the knife from her fingers. Angry heat crawled up her cheeks at the memory. She shook her head and shifted her attention to the name he’d given.

Teryn Alante.

She hadn’t realized it then, but she knew that name. Remembered hearing it when she was a child. Teryn Alante was the Crown Prince of Menah. What was he doing out here? He’d admitted to hunting unicorns but also insisted he hadn’t killed one. She’d opened her senses to him then, felt the truth of his statement, mingling with conflict over what he’d almost done to Valorre. Then there was that odd bit he’d said about having been sent by Princess Mareleau. He had to have meant Mareleau Harvallis, Princess of Selay. Another name she recalled.

If you’re so worried, then you should have killed him instead of letting him go.

Cora cut him a glare, but she had no argument to give. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d let him go. They’d been evenly matched once they’d faced off with spear and bow, but she could have shot him after. He was a unicorn hunter, and that made him her enemy. Sure, he was a prince, and killing him would make her an enemy to his kingdom. But she could have fled the scene and left no one the wiser to what she’d done.

Still, she couldn’t fight the feeling that settled in her chest, one that told her that—despite all evidence to the contrary—he didn’t deserve to die.

“I miss when I only understood you in one-to-two-word spurts,” she muttered.

Valorre rippled with something like laughter. The boy agitates you. Or interests you .

“You’re the only one agitating me. Next time you come across a human holding a weapon of any kind, you run. Understand? Otherwise, you can rescue your brethren on your own if you’re so tough.”

Valorre’s emotions contracted with something Cora couldn’t read. Then he conveyed, You care .

Her irritation softened. She reached for Valorre again, stroked his white fur. “Yes, Valorre, I care. You’re my…friend.” That was what she’d called him when she’d confronted the prince.

Friend . He seemed to take the word and roll it around in his mind before saying it again. Friend .

“Friends keep each other safe, no matter how tough the other thinks they are. So no more unnecessary heroics, all right? Save that for our rescue mission.”

All right .

Cora’s lips curled into a small smile. It had everything to do with Valorre and nothing— absolutely nothing —to do with stray thoughts of the aggravating prince she’d met at knifepoint.

Teryn, Lex, and Helios rode all afternoon. By the time they slowed their pace, night had fallen. The sky was dark, the forest quiet. The only sounds were swooping bats and the pound of their horses’ hooves. Teryn glanced up at the canopy of trees, trying to spot Berol flying overhead. If Teryn had to guess, the falcon was certainly making a meal out of the buffet of bats currently on display.

Helios made a clicking sound with his tongue, and his horse slowed to a stop. Teryn and Lex halted behind him as well. They’d left the main trail some time ago, and their current path was narrow, allowing only enough room to ride single file. Helios dismounted and crouched in front of his horse. He studied the path for a few silent moments, then snapped his fingers at Lex. “Lamp.”

Lex stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Lamp,” he said again, with more force this time.

With a grumble, Lex dismounted and retrieved the oil lamp from Helios’ saddle. Handing it to him, he said, “You could have done that yourself.”

Helios took it from him wordlessly and continued his study, seeking signs of the hunters they’d been tracking all evening. Teryn had insisted hours ago that they make camp for the night, but Helios refused, stating he had a plan. Like usual, Teryn and Lex were not let in on what exactly this plan entailed. Teryn had only been back at camp for an hour after his encounter with the unicorn girl when Helios returned from scouting. After relentless teasing over Teryn’s bloodied state—which Helios attributed to the hare Teryn had been in the process of skinning—Helios ordered them to mount and ride. He’d found the camp. “They have a unicorn,” he’d said, revealing some of the excitement Teryn had glimpsed when he’d shown them the first hoof print. He’d also mumbled something about another set of prints. Prints that made no sense because—again—they did not follow the others. He’d trailed these strange tracks. Lost them in a stream.

Teryn had nearly spoken the truth then, almost told him what had happened, why he’d had to set his nose and clean wounds on his neck and forearm.

But he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d kept quiet. Not even Lex knew the truth.

Now he smirked at Helios’ back. It felt good to know something Helios didn’t.

After studying the trail a few minutes longer, Helios gestured for Teryn to dismount as well. As soon as Teryn left the saddle, a dark shape swooped down from the trees, startling the horses. Teryn’s horse calmed first, as it was only Berol, coming to perch on Teryn’s saddle horn. Quinne was used to the falcon, but that didn’t mean the palfrey was immune to being startled by Berol from time to time.

“That thing is terrifying,” Lex said, hand clutched to his chest.

“You mean adorable.” Teryn reached up to stroke the falcon’s feathers. Berol nipped affectionately at his fingers, then set to preening.

“Both of you shut up,” Helios muttered.

Lex made a face behind Helios’ back.

They continued on foot at a moderate pace, punctuated by Helios’ observations. Finally, he seemed to find what he’d been looking for. “Stop here.” Helios began to rummage around in one of his saddlebags. As he withdrew his hand from the bag, he held a piece of parchment in his fist.

“Mind telling us what that is?”

Helios faced Teryn and Lex with a smug grin. “We’re going to have dinner with friends.”

The sound of voices fell upon Teryn’s ears. That was the second clue that told him they were nearing their target. The first had been a plume of smoke wafting over the trees—a campfire. He tightened his grip on his horse’s reins as he walked her through the underbrush, his muscles tensing with every step. Helios seemed fully confident in the plan he’d concocted, but Teryn wasn’t so sure. Helios had told them to follow his lead. Act cordial. Don’t gawk at any captive unicorns as if they’d never seen one before. When Teryn had pressed him to elaborate, Helios said only, “We dine. We sleep. Then in the morning, we take what we came for.”

Lex seemed even less comfortable with what they were about to do. Time and again he tried to catch Teryn’s eye with a pointed look, as if he hoped he’d intervene. But Teryn wouldn’t. He only had a small notion of what it would take to steal the captive unicorn, and he assumed it meant parting camp as friends and returning as foes, perhaps while most of the hunters were off on their hunt. There was no honor in such a ploy, and the prospect made his skin crawl. Still, he wouldn’t stop it. Not when he was so close to getting what he needed to save his kingdom from ruin.

Soon the light of the campfire shone through the trees. The conversation coming from inside the clearing was louder now. But as they closed the distance, the talk cut off. Their approach had been noted.

“Seven gods,” came Lex’s panicked voice.

Helios shot him a glare. “Act natural.”

“This is me being natural,” Lex whispered back, but he said not a word more as they continued forth.

Teryn’s pulse raced as they approached the clearing. Helios halted just outside the perimeter, hands raised. Teryn and Lex pulled up short in turn. Four of the eight men inside the camp already had weapons drawn. Even the unarmed hunters demonstrated threat in their stiff postures, their hands fisted at their sides. Hostile didn’t even begin to describe their expressions. It was enough to distract Teryn from the row of cages at the far end—and the gray unicorn inside one of them.

Helios flicked his wrist, a motion that was followed by every set of eyes, but all he held was the piece of parchment he’d taken from his saddlebag. “Easy,” Helios said. “We’re brothers.”

The man at the center of camp, one holding a crossbow, nodded at the figure next to him. The second man approached Helios, sword in one hand, and took the paper with the other. He scanned it before returning it to Helios. Teryn caught sight of a brief letter bearing a seal etched with a crescent moon—an unfamiliar sigil. The hunter stepped back but his posture remained stiff. “Whose company?”

“Drass,” Helios said with ease.

“Drass,” the man echoed. “He still out in the Dorvish Pass?”

“The Cambron Pass.”

The man eyed Helios through slitted lids. “What are you doing out here, then?”

Helios nodded his head back toward Teryn and Lex. “Our contract is up. We were heading to Brocken Village to refill supplies for our trip home when we were waylaid by bandits.” Teryn was surprised not only by how well Helios could lie, but by the subtle shift in his tone. It was brimming with camaraderie, devoid of his usual smug brusqueness. Instead, it held a rough edge that masked any hint of royal flair.

The hunter’s eyes roved from Helios to Lex, then landed on Teryn, gaze falling on his bruised nose. “Bandits, eh?” He then dragged his eyes over their horses, pausing when he caught sight of Berol, still perched on Teryn’s saddle. The falcon stared back at the man just as intently, shifting her stance as if to draw attention to her sharp talons. The man’s knuckles went white on the hilt of his sword, and he returned his attention to Helios.

“Aye,” Helios said. “They provided us a good chase before we buried their sorry bones. Still, it took us far off course. We saw your fire and hoped for company and a meal to share.”

“I’m surprised you deigned to dine with us at all. Drass and his merry band of mercenaries tend to think themselves above our ilk.”

“I don’t see why. We all work for the same man, don’t we?”

The hunter assessed Helios one more time, then looked over his shoulder to exchange a glance with the man holding the crossbow. Teryn held his breath as the camp fell under a tense silence. He sure as hell hoped Helios knew what he was doing. His lies sounded believable to Teryn’s ears, but still…

Finally, the hunter lowered his crossbow with a nod. “We’ll share a meal.”

The other man sheathed his sword and stepped to the side. “Brothers,” he said with a nod. Teryn didn’t know if he’d imagined the mocking lilt to the man’s voice, but he returned the greeting just the same.

“I don’t like this,” Lex whispered to Teryn as they followed Helios the rest of the way into the clearing.

Teryn ignored him but he couldn’t agree more. He could almost feel the dark glares burning into his back as they tethered their horses. He could hear suspicion pitched into every whisper as they approached the campfire. No, they weren’t amongst brothers at all, and Teryn wondered if the hunters felt the same. If so, they might as well have stumbled into a nest of vipers.