Page 22 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

The hunters had found us. We hadn’t been quiet enough, and now we had nowhere to run.

Jed’s eyes met mine, and I held a finger to my lips. My heart was beating out of my throat as I scanned our surroundings,

looking for— There.

I pointed to a nearby tree with low hanging branches.

Jed nodded and got to work climbing the tree, swinging from branch to branch like he’d been born in the forest.

I cracked my knuckles, reaching out and ascending the tree with steady movements.

I’d done my fair share of climbing as a bounty hunter—scaling the sides of buildings to reach balconies and windows to enter

houses after a bounty had barred their door from entry.

Still, my muscles shook from Perri’s beating and the shock of the force field. I didn’t know how I’d summon the energy to

reach the Blood Tree if we survived this hunter.

Peering through a curtain of leaves, I made out two figures below. I held my breath, straining to hear any sound over the

pattering rain.

It was August.

He was striding confidently across the forest floor toward another figure. As the second person turned, their face became

clear: Vale.

I felt my forehead wrinkle as I stared, taking in their seeming familiarity with each other. Their heads were bowed close

together, and they spoke low, their whispers blending with the sounds of rustling tree branches.

I couldn’t make out their words, but I noted August was oddly relaxed, as if having a conversation with a friend, not an enemy.

Outside of ordering us around, Vale shouldn’t have bothered speaking to inmates at all.

Yet he’d helped me when the hunters had been moments from finding me.

Jed’s foot slipped from where it rested on a branch, and a cascade of leaves fluttered toward the ground. I froze, my muscles

tensing so tightly that they cramped.

The conversation fell silent below our perch.

I leaned forward, ready to drop to the ground and lead them away from Jed—

A scream tore through the silence.

August and Vale reacted without hesitation, breaking off in opposite directions and vanishing from the clearing, leaving no

evidence they’d been there in the first place.

My mind raced, working to piece together what I’d witnessed. Maybe August had struck a deal, selling out the other inmates

and their locations on the hunting grounds in exchange for his safety?

That would explain how he’d survived Endlock for so long—by throwing others to the wolves before the hunters even had a chance

to look in his direction. It would give him time to make it to the Blood Tree.

A different scream split the air, this one much closer to our hiding place and accompanied by sobs. My grip on the branch

tightened, knuckles whitening. Above me, Jed stared down into the clearing, his face drained of color.

A gunshot rang out, and a gasp slipped from between my lips.

I’d known what happened out on the hunting grounds. My parents had died at Endlock. But it hadn’t seemed real until now.

Another shot, followed by footsteps, had my heart slamming against my chest.

I hoped the second shot meant the hunter had missed whichever target they’d aimed at.

Momo dashed into the clearing, and my stomach lurched. Wild-eyed and panting, the boy began a clumsy scramble up a nearby tree.

No, no, no. He’s so young.

Momo’s green uniform meant he’d survived at least a few hunts. Even still, panic radiated off him in waves, and he didn’t

climb very far up the tree—the leafy canopy didn’t cover him at all, and if the hunter bothered to look up, they’d plainly

see him. Momo settled on a branch, breathing heavily and wringing his hands.

Jed pushed away from the trunk, watching Momo intently.

From my hiding spot, I reached an arm out, frantically motioning for Momo to climb higher, but the branches cloaked me too

well for him to notice.

Not. Your. Responsibility.

I had to survive to protect Jed and get him out of Endlock. I couldn’t risk thinking about anyone else.

The rain continued its drizzly descent, the hunter’s footsteps growing closer, his cheery whistle splitting the air.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the hunter called out.

Momo stiffened in his tree.

“I know you’re over here. I heard you. And besides, I studied tracking—like the game hunters from before,” the hunter said.

“Did you know they used to train hounds to follow scent trails for their prey? Unfortunately, Endlock doesn’t allow dogs,

or you’d already be dead.”

Momo was visibly trembling, each tremor threatening to send him falling from his perch and directly into the hunter’s clutches.

“Don’t be afraid,” the hunter called, his voice low and almost soothing as he paced between the trees. “I’ll make it fast.

I was never one of those people who enjoyed prolonging pain. I only want to maintain Dividium’s peace. You broke the law,

and now you must answer for your crimes. I didn’t hit you before, but this time, when I take a shot, I won’t miss.”

I watched in horror as Momo’s trembling became full-body shakes that jostled the branches he clamped onto for dear life. Leaves fell from his tree like rain, pooling around the hunter, a puddle at his feet. A sparrow chattered from a nearby tree. A warning call.

The hunter looked up, and I saw the lines of black paint he’d applied to the pale skin beneath his milky eyes.

“There you are,” the hunter tutted at Momo. “Why don’t you come on down from there? I could shoot you right out of that tree,

but that could turn messy. We don’t want that, do we? Don’t you want a quick death?”

To my utter disbelief, Momo began a hesitant descent. He must have been in shock. That, or he was afraid of prolonged pain

and perceived death as an escape far better than our current existence.

Jed tapped my hand.

I turned, bewildered, and he jerked his head toward Momo, his eyes wide and imploring.

No. I shook my head furiously.

Jed’s eyes narrowed, his mouth flattening into a thin line. He jabbed his thumb toward his own chest, and I heard what he

said without words. If you’re not going to help him, I will.

He stretched his leg out, searching for a foothold below.

My hand shot out, gripping his shoulder, and his head snapped up. He met my gaze, his eyes round and hopeful.

“My, you’re young, aren’t you? I’ve never had a kill as young as you. The others will hardly believe this,” the hunter remarked

with barely suppressed glee. He released a low, appreciative whistle as he watched Momo’s slow descent.

Revulsion churned within me. I shut my eyes for a long moment and then looked at Jed intently. I held my hand out to him,

my palm flat. Stay here.

He nodded.

Before I could think better of it, I climbed down from my hiding spot with quick, deft movements. I strained to stay silent,

but the hunter’s back was to me, and he seemed so absorbed by his own voice and the imminent victory before him that he no

longer cared to pay much attention to his surroundings.

Pretend he’s another bounty. You’ve taken down plenty of men. He’s no different.

Except he had a gun.

And I had nothing. Not even a single blade.

Momo’s eyes darted to me, and I saw the flash of recognition as his foot slipped on a branch.

My breath hitched.

He caught himself, averting his eyes from me and trying not to alert the hunter to my presence.

Smart kid.

He slowed his movements to a crawl, and the hunter grumbled, growing impatient.

I dropped from the lowest branch of my tree and landed softly with bent knees, catlike, on the plush pine needles that cushioned

the muddied forest floor.

A branch creaked above me, but Jed didn’t follow.

I scanned the ground for anything that I could use as a weapon. There was a smattering of stones, but all of them were smaller

than my fist and wouldn’t do me much good against the hunter’s gun if he saw me coming.

My eyes snagged on a large branch discarded behind the tree I’d climbed out of, thick and at least the length of my arm.

The leaves attached to the end made a soft swishing sound, but it blended in well enough with the leaves waving in the wind

far overhead.

Spinning on my heel, I walked with the branch step by slow step toward the hunter’s turned back.

I gripped the end of the branch, rearing back and swinging it forward with all my might, aiming for the hunter’s head.

But at the last second, he turned—I’d never know if it was because he was alerted by some slight sound or whether he felt

a shift in the breeze, but instead of hitting the back of his head, my branch collided with the barrel of his rifle. The collision

jarred my injured body, but the force of the impact wrenched the gun from the hunter’s grasp and sent it skittering across

the forest floor.

I nearly grinned, my gaze narrowing in on him, predatory.

Weaponless, he paused for only a moment before lunging at me, twigs snapping and leaves crunching beneath his stomping boots.

His fist caught the bruised flesh of my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth, dropping my branch but refusing to stumble.

I slammed my elbow into his jaw, and he cursed, blood leaking from his mouth where he’d bit his lip.

“You’ll regret that,” he spat, circling me.

I spied a small boulder over his shoulder, mostly buried in the ground. If I could just—

The hunter swung another fist in my direction, and I ducked, barely missing a shot to the face.

“Raven!” Jed yelled from the tree. He was climbing down, inching toward the ground, and the hunter whirled around at the sound

of his voice.

It might be the only chance I would have.

I swiped my leg out, kicking the hunter’s legs from beneath him and shoving him hard in the chest. He went flying backward,

his head meeting the boulder with a satisfying thud. He didn’t move.

I kneeled beside him, feeling for a pulse. I frowned. He would likely survive. Hopefully, he would have at least hit his head

hard enough to induce memory loss and make him forget me entirely.