Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The throne was sculpted of crystal and rose ten feet above the floor on a pedestal. Silver sparkles flickered from inside the quartz. The staircase to the royal seat spiraled around the base, and the steps were also translucent, with silver handrails on either side. The steps were covered with a narrow strip of carpet to lessen the threat of slipping on them, as blue as the morning sky, with gold embroidery creating an intricate scrollwork pattern.

We lined the sides of the aisle. First were the guards, ten in a row on either side. Next, the challengers—with Bran, Fenling, San, Quen, and myself on the left. On the right side stood Karehl and his four champions.

The rest of the Lorani, along with the rest of Karehl's guards were detained behind bars in two separate holding cells. They weren't prisoners, but Borea had segregated them off into an area that was escape proof. No magic could penetrate the cells, no physical force could break through the shields. They couldn't interfere with the challenge and would remain cordoned off until a victor prevailed.

I noticed Karehl staring at me and I could see the wheels turning in his head. I stared back, giving him a measured, frozen look, then turned away as though he were irrelevant. I could practically feel him seething, but I turned a loving gaze toward Bran. I knew that would throw Karehl off balance.

At that moment, a noise from the back of the throne room sounded as the doors opened. Trumpets echoed out short staccato notes, and then the drums began—a slow beat, as Borea entered the throne room.

She strode down the aisle, toward the throne, staring neither right nor left. Her personal guards accompanied her, two in front, four in back, and then came her advisors. I had met them the second week I was here, but I didn't remember any of their names. While Borea had been incredibly kind to us, we weren't invited to her private dinners except for Bran. As she climbed the stairs, then took the throne, we stood at attention, then bowed as she sat.

"You've been given the rules of the blood hunt and both sides have pledged their oath to them," she said. "If anyone is caught disobeying them, that side forfeits the match. Karina and her witches will be watching you—and trust me, their vision stretches out to the borders of my lands. As soon as I declare the challenge open, you will be taken to the forest, to two different entrances. There, you will enter the woodland. Do you understand so far?"

Bran and Karehl both nodded, giving each other dirty looks.

"Good. Listen well to the following. Pleading ignorance will not save you from punishment, should you choose to break the rules. Once you enter the forest, my witches will seal the force field to close the borders. No one can leave until either Bran or Karehl dies. Only then will the magic diminish, and the victor be allowed to exit. The moment either Bran or Karehl dies, the challenge is declared finished, and all hostilities shall cease at that moment. The moment you have the victory, blow the horn. Each side has one, and the horn can only be blown one time. Do not think to end the challenge early or you'll forfeit your lives. Once a victor is declared, my guards will come into the forest to escort you out."

We stayed silent, waiting.

"Bran, do you understand and agree to the challenge, and to our rules?"

"I do," he said, staring at Queen Borea with clear eyes.

"Karehl, do you understand and agree to the challenge, and to our rules?"

"I understand," Karehl snarled.

"Then, together with your companies, pledge now on your honor, that you will see this challenge through."

One of her advisors stepped forward, and every one of us—both on Bran's side, and on Karehl's side—pledged our oath.

There was little to say. Once again, we were kept separate from the other side, and ten guards rode with each group as they escorted us out into the falling snow where our mounts waited for us, along with all the supplies we would need to survive through the next few days. They had given us all new weapons—none containing magic—and the same supplies so we were evenly matched.

We rode single-file, between the two groups of guards, parting ways as we left the castle. In fact, no one said a word until—an hour or so later—we reached a trail leading into the woodland. Once there, the guards stood back. Then, at the sound of a horn, we entered the thicket one by one, vanishing into the snowy woods.

The forest wasn't like the Bramble Fel Forest. I didn't know the name of it, or whether it even had a name, but it felt so old that the trees had long ago fallen into slumber. Perpetually deformed, the trees were shorter than I was used to, and they were bent to the side, swept by the constant winds that blew through the area. There was little undergrowth to crowd the ground, although the perpetual white of the snow drifts blanketed the land as far as we could see in a blur of mist and ice. Everything in the crystal wonderland felt pure and clean, so fragile that I thought brushing up against a tree might shatter it into a thousand shards.

"Have you ever been out here before?" I asked Bran, who had stopped beside me. "It's so beautiful. I've never seen such a magical place."

Our horses had been given potions concocted by Karina that would keep them warm. Because the extremes were so dangerous, animals were prized and taken care of in every way possible. Our mounts wouldn't feel the cold, or be affected by it, even though we would.

Bran shook his head. "No, I've been to Swelan before, but I've never been out here. They keep access to this forest off-limits because it's connected to their faith and their gods. Queen Borea told me they only open it for special occasions, and only when the gods give Karina permission."

"Karina? But she's a witch," Fenling said.

"She's more than a witch. Karina is the high priestess of the entire realm." Bran looked around. "She worships Borea."

"Worships?" Quen asked.

"Queen Borea rules the entire world above the Eiralpine Line. Every member of the People of the Winds bows to her. It's part of her divine birthright."

"That would answer a lot of questions I have about the area," I said. "Everything up here feels magical."

"So, what's our plan?" Quen asked, riding up. "What do we do first?"

Bran looked around. "We set up a base camp. Borea told my brother and me that we'd be only two days ride from each other. We don't have much time to get ready. I know in my heart that Karehl will go on the offensive, so we have to be ready. He'll come to us."

"Do you want to set up camp here?" I asked.

It seemed a good place. The clearing was large enough to set up our tents, but not so large that we couldn't keep a clear eye out for anybody coming our way. Since we didn't have magic as a weapon, we had to use our wits. Queen Borea had been clear on the fact that she wouldn't allow us to bring any spells, scrolls, or magical weapons with us. In fact, she had taken away my bow and replaced it with a beautiful, well made, normal bow and arrows. And she had ordered Karehl's weapons examined as well.

Both groups had been outfitted with the same supplies and the same type of weapons. We were evenly matched, and from what Bran had told us about Karehl's choice in the four men he chose to be at his side, we were closely matched in skill.

"I think we should," Bran said. "That way, we can prepare before Karehl comes for us. And he will come for us. My brother's impulsive, and that's one of his biggest weaknesses. He'll be on the road, looking for us, once they get oriented, which means we have two days at the most."

We spent the rest of the afternoon setting up camp. Sen erected trip ropes around most of the encampment. Borea had outfitted us with enough wood for several days, which saved us a great deal of time and trouble gathering it. I built a fire while Quen and Bran set up two tents—one for the men, and one for Fenling and me. Fenling started setting snares to augment the trip ropes, hiding them with a thin layer of snow.

After I finished with the fire, I started making dinner, cutting chunks of meat and potatoes into a pot of water. Then, I hung it over the fire and began to slice a loaf of bread. When the soup was bubbling away, I skewered the bread on sticks, toasted them over the fire, and slathered them with fresh butter from the crock that Borea's servants had tucked into the food basket. By the time the others were finished with the traps and tents, the soup was ready. I ladled bowls for everyone and then handed out the bread. After we ate, we settled down around the fire and drank tea while we talked.

"We need to stand watch," Bran said. "Regardless of the traps, we don't want to give Karehl any chance to surprise us."

"I thought you said it would take a couple days for them to reach our camp?" Fenling asked.

Quen cleared his throat. "Normally, yes, but even though we have no magic, the woods themselves are magical. I don't want to take any chances. Bran's right—we need to keep watch."

Fenling set down her mug of tea. "Is Karehl our only enemy out here? I have no idea what dangers are hiding in this forest."

I stood, stretching. In my bones, I could feel the energy of the woodland transforming. It moved around us like a serpent, a subtle shift that felt like it was wrapping us up in a cocoon.

Reaching out, I tried to sense what was happening.

The wind began to speak, that constant susurration that never stopped. But now, instead of just the whistling currents, voices echoed in a breezy stream. As I looked around, every log covered with snow, every tree cloaked in white, seemed to be alert and watching us. I squinted and caught a faint glimpse of translucent creatures formed from ice itself. They darted from snow to tree trunk to branch in what appeared to be a frenzied dance. I stared at them for a moment until one looked directly at me. In a fraction of a second, they froze, then vanished from sight.

"What's wrong?" Bran asked.

"I don't think we're alone," I said, cautiously looking around. "I just saw some sort of creature. They remind me of the astra—the little folk of legend, but they were just outlines, as though they were made of ice, and they were darting from tree trunk to tree trunk, almost as though they were part of some dance."

"Then that answers Fenling's question. We aren't alone. I don't know if they're dangerous, but we have company. And there may be other creatures lurking in the forest. We can't assume that my brother is our only danger here." Bran gestured for Quen to follow him. "Let's make the rounds before it gets any darker. It's going to be a long, cold night, but at least the tents and blankets are warm."

As the two men made the rounds, Fenling and I stoked the fire and cleaned the dishes. We'd finished the soup, so we filled the pot with snow and set it in the coals to boil off any crusted-on food particles.

"How long before Karehl comes looking for us?" I asked.

"As soon as he's able," Fenling said. "Bran's right. Karehl won't wait for us to find him. He'll be on the move as soon as he can sense where we are. That means we play defense, rather than offense. In some ways, that gives us the edge. He'll be so fixated on finding us that he'll let his guard down. Karehl doesn't stop to think. He just… does ."

"Then, we hope for that. What do you think he'll expect us to do?" I asked. "How does Karehl view Bran?"

Fenling thought for a moment. "He underestimates Bran. Karehl's ego won't allow him to believe that Bran could be stronger or smarter. And that will work to our advantage, as well."

Bran and Quen returned. We gathered around the campfire.

"I know they can't possibly be here yet," I said, "but…can you sense them near?"

Bran shook his head. "No, and unless they get help from the forest spirits, I don't expect to see them until day after tomorrow. Shall we discuss the hunt?"

"To the death," San said as he polished his dagger with a soft cloth. "That's the only outcome. We're in this until you or your brother dies. I don't think there's much to discuss."

"I know this is an obvious question," I said. "But why a blood hunt? Why not battle it out in an arena?"

Fenling placed a hand over mine. "This is the tradition of our people. We live for the chase. The Wolf People have always settled matters of this nature with a blood hunt, and we always will. It sings to our blood, our very souls."

I let out a long breath. "I can accept that, even if I don't understand it."

"Good," Bran said. "Because you belong to our people now, and when we marry, you'll be expected to uphold these traditions with dignity, grace, and acceptance." He caught my gaze. "Which I know you can—and will —do."

I nodded. "I will."

"Then, let me tell you everything I can think of about Karehl." Bran paused. "He has a slight loss of hearing in his right ear. He was hit in the head when we were younger—a tree branch fell on him, and it caused some hearing issues. He also has a tendency to freeze when he's startled—not for long, but if you see him before he sees you, that could give you an advantage. And seconds make a difference."

"I know we discussed this, but can you go over it again?" I asked. "Do you have to kill him? What if…say…San, or I find him first?"

"The rules are simple but clear. The first to die—Karehl or me—marks the end of the hunt. It doesn't matter who takes us. The four of you are part of me for this hunt. You're my arms, my legs, my eyes and ears. The same for Karehl's group."

"What happens to his men if we kill Karehl, but they're still alive?" I asked.

"They will be exiled to Swelan permanently. They'll be watched closely for the rest of their lives but given a chance to settle in and become part of society. That goes for the four of you, if I'm killed. If I die, none of us—nor the Lorani back in the castle—will ever see Eleago again. But that would be just as well, given what Karehl would do to you if you returned to the castle." Bran leaned back against a rock, staring at the fire. "This is a road I never expected to travel. I thought we'd escape here, gather our resources, and then return to attempt a coup."

"What did Borea say to change your mind?" Quen asked.

"It wasn't Borea, so much as Karina. The witch read my future. Unless Karehl dies, he'll forever hunt us. All of us. We'll never be free of his pursuit. He'll destroy Eleago with his growing madness. And if we returned to the castle, he'll destroy it to keep me from winning, regardless of how many lives he sacrifices."

"He'd destroy his own people to keep you from the throne?" Fenling asked. "That sounds about right."

Bran leaned forward. "Karehl's truly going mad. And his madness will taint every aspect of our land. She predicted that he'll eventually destroy the People of the Wolves. So, you see, so much more than my own life depends on this, and this is why I agreed to call a blood hunt. It's the only way we're guaranteed to face him."