Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

As Fenling and I pressed into the woodland, I kept a close eye out. Whatever that creature was, it had proven too deadly to chance another encounter.

"You've forever earned a spot in both Bran and Quen's hearts. Saving Quen like that, twice …you're truly his guardian spirit." Fenling glanced around, sniffing the air.

"What do you smell?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Wolf shifters can pick out things most people can't even smell. I'll bet you didn't know that Quen reeked of that creature."

I shook my head. "No, I had no idea. Why didn't he sense it before it attacked us?"

"He's had a cold lately and his sense of smell is off," Fenling said. "Anyway, I can smell the creature you killed—it's mingled with the scent of death. And some other animal came through this way but I think it's been a day or so."

"Elk? Deer?"

Fenling paused, sniffing. "No, I don't think so. I'm not sure." She hesitated for another moment, then said, "All right, let's get a move on."

We rode through the trees, on the lookout for anything that might present a problem. While we were out there, we kept an eye out for any landmarks that could be useful. While there were a few boulders, the forest was on an even land, with no ravines that we could see, nor caves or hills. There was no place to hide except in the snow and behind the trees.

By dusk, we'd circled the camp, and if there were more of those creatures, they hid themselves well. We returned to find Quen cooking dinner—a stew of sorts—and huddled by the fire. One day over. One day, plus or minus a few hours, to go.

I gratefully accepted the bowl of stew and bread that Quen handed me, and hunkered down beside the campfire. As I ate, the warmth flooded through my body. Fenling sat beside me, as we told the others what we had found—or rather, what we hadn't found.

"There's nothing but a couple boulders. No caves, no hiding places except the trees themselves or snowdrifts. I'm not sure how we're supposed to get the upper hand if we can't hide while waiting for them," I said, spooning the hot meat and gravy into my mouth.

"We could create bunkers of snow—build up drifts that are actually hiding spots," San said.

"But we don't know which direction Karehl will be coming from," Fenling said. "If we hide in the wrong place, it won't do us any good. When we win, we need to change this tradition. Just make some laws that ensure leaders can be deposed if they turn like Karehl did. The Council waited too long. Bran needs to establish some method—" she paused as a sound came from the forest near us. "What's that?"

I set down my bowl and picked up my bow.

"I smell something—the wind just turned and we're downwind of whatever it is." San withdrew his sword, as did Bran. "It's coming from the other side of the camp—where you and Quen started out this morning."

Fenling pulled out her daggers and we edged our way toward the sound, which was to the back of our camp. Bran motioned for us to pause. As we did, the noise grew louder—like something snuffling and growling through the forest. But, unlike our forests at home, there were no sounds of branches breaking or bushes rustling.

The next moment, a loud shriek cut through the approaching night and three charimonts leaped out from the treeline, racing towards us.

Swinging around, I brought my bow up and aimed for the lead beast. "Move!"

San and Bran jumped out of my way and I sent the arrow flying, but the charimont veered to the right and the arrow missed, landing in the snow. They were close enough that by the time I prepared another arrow, they were at the outskirts of the camp. I dropped my bow and pulled out my dagger. My skills weren't the best with a blade, so I raced over to the fire and grabbed a branch that was burning, pulling it out from the coals. I held it up and turned back to the charimonts.

Bran braced himself as one of the charimonts headed toward him. The second veered toward San, and the third continued in my direction. Fenling appeared by my side, daggers out and ready. Quen unsheathed his sword, moving to back Bran.

And then, with one more breath, we were all in the fight.

All I could see was the creature in front of me, and Fenling to my left. The charimont slowed as I held up the flaming stick, waving it toward the beast. As it followed my move, it narrowed its eyes. Fenling edged toward its side. I tried to entice it, to give her the space to move in. She knew how to use blades and I trusted her skill more than I trusted mine.

As the charimont snarled and began to creep toward me, in position to pounce, I held tight to the branch. Fenling shifted, taking another step forward. Then, with one final wiggle, it leaped toward me. Fenling struck as it sailed past her, slicing down its side with both her daggers.

The charimont shrieked, trying to get away. I took that moment to bring the flaming branch down on its head and the fur caught fire. As the beast staggered, lurching, Fenling landed on it and struck again with her daggers. This time, the charimont flopped to its side and was still.

Fenling immediately turned, racing over to help San. I ran toward Quen and Bran, but by the time I got there, they'd dispatched their charimont. With a deep breath, we stepped back from the blood-stained snow. This time, we'd managed to come through without any more injuries.

"Okay, so the forest has far more dangers than just Karehl," Bran said. "The sooner we get this over with, the better." He glanced at the bodies of the charimonts. "We don't want them around camp. Their smell could attract other, more deadly, prey."

"We should hitch them to the back of our horses and drag them away into the woods." I knelt down to examine one of the huge beasts. "Too bad we can't use the hides, but this isn't a hunting trip. Not in the usual sense." I admired the creatures. They were powerful and canny, and difficult to take down.

"Good idea. San, fetch some rope." Bran knelt by the nearest beast and, when San returned with the rope, they tied the charimonts together, spreading the weight between their horses. Then, they rode out of camp, leaving Fenling, Quen, and me behind. We waited anxiously until they returned. After that, we once again took watches—this time Bran allowed me to volunteer for the first watch, since Quen needed his strength to heal up, and the rest of the night passed without incident.

By morning, we were growing antsy. By our calculations, it wouldn't be long before Karehl showed up. Of course, if he did something out of character and stayed his ground at his camp, we'd have to travel to find him. But every instinct I had told me that Bran was right—Karehl wouldn't be able to control himself. He'd be too anxious to secure the throne by eliminating his brother.

Fenling and I stoked the fire while San and Bran scouted the woods around camp again. As she handed me a large piece of wood, she sat back on her heels.

"They're on the way," she said. "I can feel it. I'm no witch, but as you know, in the Pack, we have a Pack-wide connection. And blood family creates an even stronger bond. As much as I don't like it, I can sense Karehl—like I can Bran. Especially when I'm trying to. And right now, I sense him. He's not far away. I think they rode through the night."

"And they're nearing us now?"

"Yes, so we should prepare. I'm guessing we have a few hours, so we should rest for a time, while we still can. I'll tell Quen. Bran should be feeling his brother approach, and I imagine that's why he wanted to scout around." Fenling stood, dusting her gloves off. "Come."

I followed her over to Quen, who was looking alert.

"I sense him too," he said, looking at Fenling. "You want to rest up?"

Fenling nodded. "What about you?"

"I've been resting since I got hurt yesterday. I'll keep an eye out while you two sleep."

Even though we'd slept the night before, being out in the elements made even moving harder, and I realized I was tired. I crawled into the tent, with Fenling following me.

"Tell me, why didn't you sense Karehl when he was disguised as Sparrow?" I asked.

"Magic. It can cloak and interfere with the Pack connection. Giselda was a powerful witch. Rest now. Quen will wake us in time." She laid down and pulled the blanket over her.

"So, when we wake…"

"The challenge will be on," Fenling said.

I turned over and curled under the blankets. "Let's hope the gods are on our side." As I drifted off to sleep, I tried not to think about the coming battle.

We gathered around the fire for one last meal before facing Karehl. All four of the wolf shifters were uneasy—they could sense the prince nearby.

San handed out bread and dried fruit. "Eat. We'll need energy and this is light enough not to slow us down during battle." He motioned to me. "Eat now, we don't have much time."

I carried my food over to Bran and sat beside him. "I'm ready," I said. "I have your back, Bran. Whatever happens, I'll be with you." I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

He slipped his arm around my waist. "Tell me, what do you want our wedding day to be like? Traditions be damned. Whatever you want, you'll get."

I frowned. "Shouldn't we leave that for when we win? For when we know that?—"

"No," he said, cutting me off. "I don't want to wait. I want to set out plans now. I want to make certain I know everything you want. I want to think about the future, because the present is so fragile right now. If we talk about the future, we cement it. We make it happen. So tell me, what do you want for our wedding?"

I inhaled slowly, then let out my breath in a foggy stream. Everything around us sparkled, pure and icy and beautiful.

"I've never actually thought that far. When my father killed the bear, I knew no man from the village would dare marry me. I was bad luck—my family was anathema. We were pariah, shunned until my father died. So I put aside all my hopes and wishes for the future and let them go." I slid closer into his embrace.

"Then think now…what do you see for us ? I know you're not a witch, but you have friends who are. And I think there's something inside you waiting to blossom out, some power that you haven't found yet."

His voice was soft, and when he spoke, I could almost believe that he was right. I wanted to believe it—we all wanted to be special. Yet, while I wanted to be powerful and have the wisdom Ashera did, I doubted myself. Maybe in fifty years I could be as strong as she was, but right now, I felt very small in a very big world.

"I don't know," I whispered. "But…our wedding. I think I'd like to have it during midsummer, in the forest, when all the world is humming and bright. With the roses in bloom, their scent blanketing the night like some exotic perfume. I want a dress of hunter green, soft to the touch and flowing, with gold embroidery for the trim, and a crown of woven flowers on my head. I want a cloak that sparkles in the sun. And I want Fenling to stand by my side when you and I take our oaths." The words poured out of me like a hidden fountain suddenly tapped.

Bran smiled. "Then you shall have it. We'll marry in the forest, then have a reception that lasts for days back in Eleago. And you will take the crown and be my princess—and later, my queen. We'll rule side by side over the land."

For a moment, I could see it all—it felt like it was there, within touching distance, as though I could reach out and capture it in my fingers. But before I could say anything, Fenling stood, her nose to the air.

"He's coming," she said. "It's time."

I shook the dream out of my head and stood, double-checking my bow. As we headed toward our mounts, Bran turned to us.

"Remember, my brother must die. It doesn't matter who kills him, though I hope I'm handed the task. He must not survive."

Leaping atop his horse, he led us out of the camp, into the treeline, to meet the oncoming tide.