I don’t know.He held up a hand.Stay here.
Then, he snuck around the tree trunk to follow the voice. Over my dead, fae-killing body would I stand here like prey.
Edging around the trunk, I sank to a crouch and crept along the low brush, searching the paths between the trees.
The voice was growing louder, the words more discernible. It was some folksong, the verses building. I snuck through the undergrowth, checking carefully around every tree, and my heartbeat climbed with it.
“A realm divided,
A sister sacrificed,
And demigods to dance on her grave.
Spinning through veils,
Her wings how they flared,
But then He fell to the blade.”
Finally, I reached a clearing rimmed with berry bushes, and in the center, a woman with raven-black hair to her waist picked the feathers from a dead bird. My stomach turned over at the brutal collection of carcasses around her.
Was she hunting? Surely she couldn’t need that much food if she was alone. And if she wasn’t alone, where were her companions? Why was she cleaning the food here, instead of in a camp?
“The children of his children,
They search for a door.
For a mind child they felt long ago.
When all was lost to them,
And bridges were broken,
And realms did they seek to sew.”
Her glimmering white gown shone like fresh fallen snow, revealing in nearly every way it could be, with a swooping neckline and back, slits falling open around her thighs. Somehow, no blood splattered the gown or her light-brown skin from her kills. Only her hands showed the crimson stains.
Unease washed over me, a sense of dread I didn’t understand. Like I wanted to go to this woman, but if I did, it would be the worst decision I ever made.
Her back faced me, but partway around the clearing, a slight shuffle caught my eye, my senses perking up. Lancaster crept through the brush, glaring. His gaze snapped between the still-singing woman and me, and he gave his head a subtle shake, sinking back into the trees.
We need to get out of here. That harsh look said.
I retreated, taking care not to step on anything that would crunch. When I found Lancaster back in the foothills, for once the Bounty voice didn’t scream. Instead, every tensed part of me eased.
“Who was she?” I whispered, as if she would hear.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But her presence felt wrong.” I didn’t comment, but I understood what he meant. “We should run a little more before we stop.”
I agreed and hurriedly gathered our belongings. “I know where we can go instead.”
“By the way,” Lancaster said as he picked me up in a way that was becoming familiar, “next time I tell you to stay, obey.”
Agitation heated my chest. “Don’t tell me what to do, Hunter,” I retorted, glaring over the plains.
He only grunted before taking off at a faster pace than usual.
After our lastattempt at camp was interrupted, I wanted a more secure place to stay for the night. A place with quiet streets and familiar voices, even if I wouldn’t be speaking to any of them.
