“It’s like you said,” he grunts. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I can hear the branch he’s pulling aside as he tries squirming through a particularly dense patch. “They can’t kill her.”
It’s not like him to be so blasé where the princess’ life is concerned, but I’m too frustrated by his negligence to think much about it. Instead, I hold nothing back.
“There are far worse things than death.”
Though I leave the horrors of what I endured as a young girl unspoken, when Acari lowers his head, I know I’ve made my point.
With a roll of my eyes, I approach him, but just before I can grab hold of the sleeve of his shirt and pull him away, I spot the firefur just on the other side of the shrubbery. The fiery flickering of its coat permits enough light for me to see that it does appear to be favoring one of its paws. There’s no denying that we could desperately use the light it would provide us, and if it’s injured, it might actually be easier than I expected to capture.
I release a low, gravely groan. “Fine. We catch the firefur and then we get back to our mission. Just move out of the way so I can get through too.”
I place my hand firmly between Acari’s shoulder blades prepared to give him a shove, but the warmth I find radiating off him gives me pause. His heat is unlike anything I’ve ever felt, truly. Every time I’ve ever touched any living creature, death has already been lurking; it makes their skin sweaty, clammy, and oftentimes cold. But since Acari isn’t fearing for his death, since he’s not shirking away from my very touch, instead, for once, I feel the rise and fall of his breaths, the heat his life—his blood—circulating throughout his entire body.
I’ve never wanted to keep touching someone so badly.
And so I shove him all the harder, sending him stumbling into the clearing and startling the firefur anew.
Before I can stop Acari from bolting after it, he chases the fading light and plummets into the woods.
“Don’t,” I say, trying to warn him, but his bounding steps carry him faster than my voice can reach, “chase it…”
When I finally clamber out of the bushes, I too barrel after them. Branches whip my face and legs, leaving lashings and splinters behind that I am forced to ignore. I guess I can’t complain though since I fare better than the trees, who die on contact, their once vital leaves becoming dry and brittle as bones.
Acari is nowhere to be seen, but I follow the sound of his staggering steps, cursing his foolishness. Ignoring the aching in my joints, I clear a log and continue running. When I see leaves swaying before me, I know I’m gaining on them.
It dawns on me then that we’re moving too fast for a chase of a creature so small. Especially one that’s supposed to be injured. Unless…
Unless it’s luring us somewhere…
Still charging at almost full speed, I push through some dense, low-hanging branches and nearly crash into Acari on the other side. My feet catch, veering me out of his path and into the tree beside him instead. As we collide, flesh to bark, the tree and I croak. I push myself off it just as the trunk starts to blacken.
I glare back at Acari, standing still in a new, dimly lit clearing. He’s staring straight forward, and I have to push myself off the tree to see that he’s staring at the glowing firefur that’s wedged itself between some boulders. I recognize its fear by its rapid breaths and cowering body, but it’s not until Acari steps to the side, attempting to come at it at an angle instead of directly, that I notice the firefur’s eyes don’t move with him.
It’s not hiding from us.
“Acari,” I say, my voice a quiet warning.
But by the time I get his attention, the color drains from his face.
The air reeks of salivating tongues.
Slowly I turn, shielding Acari and the firefur behind me as I face the ravenous snarls of the predators that have surrounded us. Glowing eyes of ochre and amber blink in existence. I spy four sets in total, circling us like the meals we are before the strong bodies of the wolves creep into view, bellies rumbling with anticipation. Their fur, thick to fend off winter nights, twitches with each prowling step. Their steps are nearly inaudible, if not for the random blade of grass or flower that gets shuffled aside. But it’s the growling that is most menacing, the upper lip of each of them raising higher the closer they approach, to reveal deadly and glistening fangs that are primed to puncture one of our throats.
A normal person might be afraid. Someone like Acari who quivers as the wolves close us in. But I feel no such thing.
Not for myself, anyhow.
By the alpha’s lead, they lift their chins to the moon and sing.
The alpha of the pack leaps first. I meet him mid-air, hands splayed, one reaching for its throat and the other for one of its legs. With jaws snapping in the air, my fingers graze his fur. Darkness swirls on contact. The alpha’s pupils become large disks, his jaw hanging limply from his snout, as he crashes to the ground lifeless in a matter of seconds.
The world shudders, Veltuur’s growl of disapproval.
I try ignoring it. There’s no room to worry about what the Council might do to me for this.
Their alpha dead, the other wolves dive.
My power may be limitless, but I can’t take them all on at once. Rolling from the center of the circle, I land in the grass and it dies beneath my hands when I push myself back up. I charge for the two closest canines. They snap at me, more of a warning than anything. I think they might
