“I agree,” Heidel said. “There were some vines I spotted that we could use, and we can gather leaves and bits of broken bark.”
“We’ll also need a fire,” Kull said. “There’s a chill in the air already. Tonight will only grow colder.”
“But won’t a fire draw the creatures to us?” I asked.
“I don’t believe so. If anything, I’m hopeful it will keep them away.”
We started the process of gathering leaves and vines while Kull collected wood for the fire. I enjoyed the work as it helped keep my mind off other things. The unicorns’ forest wasn’t as grandiose as the dragons’ forest, but its rich, dark colors and abundance of foliage and greenery held a simple beauty of its own. However, there was also an emptiness to it, a void that called to my magical senses—something unnatural and disturbing. I assumed it was because the starstone was missing, but was there something more at play that we didn’t yet understand? Was the story of the witch just a tale born of fear? Or was there some truth to it?
I recalled the vision I’d seen in Fan’twar’s caves, of the hand encircling the unicorns’ gemstone. What sort of creature did the hand belong to? Was it a unicorn transformed? If so, how did the creature transform before the stone was taken?
Those were questions I hoped to answer soon, but for now, I focused on the task at hand.
Heidel walked toward me holding a makeshift door. She’d created an arched wooden structure out of willow-type branches. The latticework was half-filled with wide purple leaves.
“That’s impressive,” I said. “You must have experience making things like this.”
“All Wults are instructed in survival.”
I showed her the pile of twigs and leaves I’d collected. “Will any of these be of use?”
“Yes,” she answered, “this should be enough to finish.” She gathered my pile and began threading the larger leaves through the woven sticks.
“May I help?” I asked.
“No need,” she answered. “This is easier to do with one person.”
I scanned the woods, trying to find something to keep me occupied. Kull knelt near the elder tree where he’d cleared the ground of leaves as he prepared to make a fire. With nothing better to do, I sat on a log and watched as he arranged the sticks in a teepee formation. The larger logs he’d stacked to the side, and I decided to arrange them in size. As I picked up a smaller stick, Kull eyed me.
“What are you doing?”
“Ordering them by size.”
“There is no need for that.”
“There isn’t?”
“No, I’ve already organized them how I want them.”
“Oh.” I returned the stick to the pile and resumed my seat on the downed tree.
After placing the kindling, Kull pulled two flint rocks from his pack and struck them together. After several attempts, sparks formed but failed to ignite the kindling. Owing to the humidity in the forest, getting a spark to ignite the damp wood would be a tedious process.
“I can use my magic to start the fire,” I offered.
“There’s no need.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I am sure,” he said, angrily striking the stones together. “I have started fires hundreds of times before, and when I am able to concentrate, I will start this one as well. If you’ve nothing better to do, you might as well go refill our water flasks.”
I raised an eyebrow. “If I’ve nothing better to do?”
“We need water for our evening meal. This task should be intuitive. Plus, putting water into empty skins is one chore you could do without being instructed, correct?”
My anger surfaced. “Excuse me? I am not one of your subjects to be commanded.”
“No, you are not. I should not have to command you at all. I’m merely confused as to why you are not already at the river refilling our water skins.”
“Have you considered asking before jumping down my throat? And you might want to consider saying please.”
“If it will get you away from my fire, then fine. Please. Will that do?”
I balled my fists. I didn’t realize how much anger I harbored toward him until that moment. Magic pulsed hot and strong through my body. It started in my chest and then pooled into my clenched hands. Bright streamers of light flowed around my arms, sticking to my skin like tendrils of spiderweb.
As much as I wanted to see him writhe in pain and agony and suffer a horrible death, I stopped myself. Opening my hands, I pulled the magic back inside myself, back to that knot in my chest where I locked my emotions.
Snatching the water skins off the ground, I turned away from Kull without saying another word. As much as I wanted to hurt him—and I really, really wanted to hurt him—that amount of energy, coupled with my emotions, would kill him. In three seconds.
Flat.
Chapter 14
I clenched the water flask in a white-knuckled grip as I knelt by the river. My knees sank into the cold mud, but the dampness had no effect on me as my anger overpowered any thoughts of discomfort.
Arrogant, rude, overbearing. I should have killed King Skullsplitter when I had the chance. Bad mannered, flippant…
Cold water chilled my fingers as I dipped the skin beneath the surface. I refilled the first skin, replaced the cork on top, and picked up the second one.
Magic radiated through me, charged with an electrical intensity so strong it made my heartbeat go wild. My hands shook as I held the skin beneath the water, but it wasn’t from the cold. He’d wound me up so badly I was certain I would never shake it off.
I needed to leave. There was no way I could return to the camp in this state. I would have to go back and tell Fan’twar that I wasn’t able to complete the mission. He’d understand. Kull and Heidel could find the starstone without me. Why was I even here in the first place? No one needed me. Not really.
I finished filling the second
