“Don’t touch me!” she shouted. “Please . . .”
Lord Alvi’s arm fell to his side. She finally looked at him,and as they locked eyes, she felt that heaviness inside her transferring to him. Her heart beat erratically and her breaths were short. Beside them, Harrison’s jaw clenched. She knew he wanted to say something more but held back.
Wyneth spun and moved forward again, her eyes stinging, a sickening lump in her throat. The men said nothing else and did not try to stop her again. When they got to the doors, one of the guards eyed her and opened his mouth as if to protest, but Harrison spoke up. “Lady Wyneth is with us.”
A blustering sea wind blew Wyneth’s red curls and made her squint as she bounded down the steps and onto the cobblestoned path. Clusters of armed guards and soldiers stood poring over maps, discussing, pointing. Wyneth looked toward the eerily desolate market and shivered. At this time of day it was usually bustling.
Harrison stopped to talk to the soldiers and she heard him mention Tiern Seabolt. Was the lad to return? That should make Princess Vixie happy. She’d been quiet and forlorn since he’d returned home to Cape Creek after the hunt.
Wyneth headed left toward the market. The path turned from smooth stones to pebbles and crushed shells, then to dust and hay as they reached the stables. Her legs burned from walking so fast.
Happiness filled Wyneth at the sight of her bay, Mosby. She cooed softly as she opened his stall, and took a moment to pat his brown coat and run a hand down his black mane. “Don’t be afraid today, boy,” Wyneth whispered. She didn’tknow what was in store for them, but it sounded as if the new beast was land dwelling. How that madwoman Rozaria was able to get it onto royal lands was a mystery. She most likely had people working for her, villagers who she’d bribed or threatened.
Wyneth became very aware of Lord Alvi several stalls down; he was too loud to be missed. She had no idea how he could be stealthy on a hunt when his very masculinity rang out every time he came near: grunts as he worked, his hulking footsteps on the beaten soil, his deep humming voice as he spoke to his horse. Wyneth swallowed hard.
They led their horses out at the same time, and found Harrison waiting for them on his military steed. Wyneth and Lord Alvi mounted, Wyneth hiking her skirts up to her knees.
Harrison stared at her with his serious dark eyes before quietly sighing. “The beast disappeared into the north forests. It’ll be blocked by the royal walls and the seas, so unless the bloody thing can fly, it’ll still be in there.”
Lord Alvi gave an ill-humored laugh. “Are any of your men to accompany us?”
“Aye. A dozen will flank us, in an arc, with bows and swords at the ready. I’ve ordered them not to advance unless you or I are wounded.”
Both men looked at Wyneth, who sat up taller, jutting out her chin to ward off any last-minute orders for her to stay behind. “Let’s go, then.”
“Your father will have my hide for this,” Harrison told her.
“I’m of age. Even he cannot stop me.”
“You don’t have to do this, Lady Wyneth,” Lord Alvi said.
Wyneth dug her heels into her horse and he jumped forward. “Neither do you,” she called over her shoulder.
“You have nothing to prove!” he hollered from behind her.
“Neither do you!” she yelled back.
Harrison caught up, and they galloped side by side in silence. A dozen soldiers on horseback crested a hill and followed. As they passed the west commons and neared the forest, Lord Alvi sped up to Wyneth’s other side. The three slowed their pace and eyed the trees, then the men scanned the ground.
“There.” Harrison pointed to a spot of slightly uprooted dry grass where it looked as if hooves had dug in.
Their horses moved at a slow pace, the hunters easily following a path made by the creature. The farther they got into the woods, the quieter and more shaded it became. Wyneth’s heart thumped too loudly and she found herself holding her breath. Her senses became keenly sensitive to each snapping twig and rustling leaf. Her eyes swiveled from side to side. A wild bush to the left looked funny to her, lopsided as if it’d been trampled. She pointed to it and the men nodded, changing their direction.
“Good eye,” Harrison whispered. Wyneth felt a small bubble of pride.
They traveled on, led by barely discernible clues, until Wyneth could see the high stone walls signaling the border of royal lands. Where was the creature?
All at once the three of them stopped as they sighted movement near the wall. Wyneth’s ears buzzed as she heard a far-off shuffle of hooves, followed by a low, gurgling growl. Her eyes focused and pinpointed through the trees a large, reddish-brown body with a greenish head.
Deep seas . . .
Slowly, Harrison moved his arms behind his back, opened his hands wide, and pulled them apart. It must have been some sort of “spread out” command for his soldiers because she heard shifting behind her and in her peripheral vision she saw horsemen closing in on the beast.
Wyneth’s heart was in her throat. Harrison and Lord Alvi moved ahead slowly. No sudden movements. As they neared, the creature made a hissing-growl sound and began to stamp the ground in agitation with a front hoof. Wyneth suddenly wished she had a more substantial weapon than a bow, a sword perhaps, but only the most well-trained soldiers carried swords.
The closer they got, the more detail Wyneth could make out. The head was that of a marsh reptile—an elongated jaw with rows of gleaming sharp teeth. The neck was strong, like a horse’s, but scales traveled down to its forequarters, where it became a mash-up of smooth fur and patches of scales. Wyneth stared in horror at what Rozaria Rocato had constructedwith her magic. How could a person’s mind work in such a way? She tried to imagine what these poor animals had been through, to be kept alive as they were cut into parts and pieced back together, then forced to grow and expand unnaturally.
At twenty paces away, Wyneth’s horse’s nostrils flared and his head whipped from side to side. She’d only seen him behave this way once before, when they happened upon a coiled snake. She should have anticipated her horse’s fear. Before things could get any worse, Wyneth gently slid from his back and gave him a pat on the rump, sending him lumbering back toward the stables.
