Ravenous (6 page)

Dalen helps me to my feet, and only then do I realize we're surrounded by the furious faces of what remains of the council of elders.

THE COUNCIL MEMBERS DID NOT FARE AS WELL AS WE DID. BURNS AND
ash cover their skin. They are not at all pleased to see me.

“You will leave usss,” the snake-man says. “Immediately. You must swear upon your life you will not reveal the existence of our village to anyone.” He glances at the flames still burning behind us. “It will take us time to rebuild what has been dessstroyed today. We have lost many because of you and your connection to the witch, and now she has charged usss with ensuring your successs. What is this task you agreed to do?”

I swallow hard. I had hoped to avoid telling them about the cornucopia. But now is not the time for deceit. “Fetch a cornucopia. King Ensel was the last known owner. That's why I'm headed to Belladoma.”

“Then you must be ssswift so she will not bother us again. More than your brother depends on it now.”

“I've been telling you for days I needed to leave. Don't blame me for this. I warned you.” I fold my arms and glower at the council. Cowed and in dwindled numbers, they don't seem as scary as they did before.

The snake-man pulls himself up in front of me and Dalen.

“We have never had cause to trust a human before. For all we know, you and the witch are in this together, and your real plan is to destroy our speciesss. We will have a hard enough time staying hidden while we rebuild our village as it is. We must be certain you do not betray usss a second time. Dalen will accompany you to ensure you keep your promissse and get the witch what she wantsss. And he won't come back until the task is complete.”

“You're sending me away from the village? But I can help here.” From the expression on his face, Dalen did not expect this turn of events. He looks like he's been slapped.

“No, pick someone else,” Dalen's mother says. Damara slips her hand into Dalen's and squeezes, but his face has returned to its usual stoic expression.

“Thanks to this human, there's nothing left to send you away from. Sssomeone must go with her or the whole village will be in peril again. Besides, you already have a pack of suppliesss. You are the most logical choice.”

“But I only brought them because I thought the council would see reason and send her on her way. I thought the swifter she left, the better and safer for us.” So that's why
he had a larger pack when he came back for me. Now he'll need to use it himself.

The snake-man glances at the centaur elder and faun behind him. “I hear you've bonded with this human and that you are quickly becoming one of our best scouts. We need to ssssend someone who knows how to stay hidden and keep us a secret as long as possible. Your family owes the village a debt. If you want to keep what remains of that family sssafe, you will do this.” Dalen shivers, but I don't let on that I've seen it. I can't help wondering what the snake-man means.

“I understand,” Dalen says. His mother's face is now a few shades paler. “Good-bye, Mama.” He embraces his mother and then his sister. I have nothing to gather up, save my wet blanket, cloak, and pack, and no one to say good-bye to. Within five minutes, Dalen and I set off.

His demeanor is more subdued than I expected. He hardly says a word as we leave his family behind and cross into the woods proper. We walk for an hour like this, yet the smell of woodsmoke clings to us, no matter how far we get from the village.

I finally decide to break the silence. “I'm sorry they're forcing you to come with me. I never meant to take you away from your family. I know how hard that can be.”

“It isn't your fault.” He trots onward. We've kept this pace so far, but any longer and I'll be exhausted well before nightfall.

“Dalen, slow down. I'm just as impatient to get this over with as you are.”

Surprise flashes over his face, then he slows. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize.” He sighs. “I miss my family already. My mother and sister are all I have left. My father . . .”

I bite my tongue even though I'm dying to ask.

“He was branded a traitor. He helped a group of travelers and it started rumors. People began to hunt for hybrids; it took years to quash the rumors and all of our magic to divert the hunters from the village. Father was banished. With the wizard on the loose, that was a death sentence.”

I know enough of the wizard to have no doubt Dalen's father is no longer alive.

“I'm sorry. It sounds like your father was kind.” I pluck a small branch from a nearby tree and pull the leaves off one by one. “I lost my father too.”

Dalen looks at me with curiosity. “How?”

“My brother and I came home from school one afternoon to find both him and my mother gone. No note, no good-bye—they even left all their belongings.” I break the branch in half and toss it into the undergrowth. “It was the strangest thing—like they had vanished into thin air. Something happened to them, but we don't know what. Even if I could have left Hans behind to go after them, I didn't have the faintest idea where to start looking.”

“That's terrible, Greta. No wonder you're desperate to get your brother back.”

Heat burns behind my eyes, but I refuse to let it show. His whole village is destroyed and he's not wailing.

“Guarding me was a test, wasn't it?” I ask, changing the
topic. “The council wanted to know if you'd do the same and help a human.”

He laughs wryly. “They are still testing me. I will do my best to keep the village's survival in mind for all decisions. The elders made it clear your success is the key to keeping the witch away from us.”

“I'm still your prisoner, then?”

“For now, while their spies might see us, yes. Once we're out of range, I have no desire to keep you from your family.”

“And I have no desire to keep you from yours.”

He gives me a fleeting smile. “I can't go back until the witch is satisfied.”

“Then a rescue mission it is.”

We trudge onward until we must stop to make camp for the night. To my relief we've seen no further sign of the witch. Between the hybrid child's death and the village fire, we've gotten the message clearly: keep moving or else.

How many lives will be on my head before this is all over?

As we unpack our bedding and start the cooking fire, I brush those thoughts aside, unwilling to dwell on them. There are some supplies in my pack, and Dalen catches a rabbit for our supper. Before long, we're full and trying to sleep by the dancing firelight.

“Greta?” Dalen says.

“Hmm?” I murmur.

“I—I don't think I can sleep.”

With all that's changed for him today, I can't say I'm
surprised. I sit up and pull my book from my pack. “I think I can help with that.”

I begin to read Dalen a story. He closes his eyes, leaning his head on the tree he rests against. By the time I finish the tale, he's snoring, and I curl back under my now-dry blanket. It reminds me of the times I used to read to Hans at night after our parents disappeared.

I am half asleep when I swear I see a pair of eyes staring at me from the shadows between the trees. I bolt upright. The strange eyes tilt over a hooked beak in the shadows, then blink and disappear. A moment later I see the retreating end of a striped tail.

I am dreaming. It only feels real.

I lie back down and pull my blanket up to my chin. When an owl hoots nearby, I pull it over my ears instead.

WHEN I WAKE, I'M STARTLED AND PANICKED TO FIND DALEN MISSING. HE
settled down in the nook of a nearby tree last night, and now the hollow is empty.

The leaves across the grove rustle, driving me to my feet in seconds, the knife that Dalen returned to me clutched in my hand. The memory of those eyes in my dream haunts me. But my panic is short-lived. Dalen trots into the glade with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulders and a wild goose in hand.

“Oh, you're up. Breakfast and lunch,” he says, holding up the goose in one hand and a couple of eggs in the other. A lopsided grin rests on his face, and a few rays of sun break through the clouds overhead, dappling his skin. I smile back.

“You scared me.” I eye the eggs, and my stomach rumbles. “But for breakfast, I'll forgive just about anything.”

I start the fire and he takes a small pan out of his pack—he is carrying considerably more than I, which I can't deny has come in handy. I might not mind having Dalen around.

“Do you have a plan for when we get to Belladoma?” Dalen asks.

“Sort of,” I say, hesitant to admit that no, I don't. I haven't gotten that far yet.

He looks at me expectantly.

“From the last time I was there, I know tunnels run throughout Belladoma and the castle, and an entrance to them is outside the city. I've seen it once before. I remember the general area where it's located. We can sneak in through that and find our way to the castle. Ensel would have kept the cornucopia close at hand. It's the best place to start.” I can almost smell the salty tang of Belladoma, and it makes my stomach turn.

Dalen stirs the scrambled eggs thoughtfully. “Are these tunnels large enough for me to navigate?”

Drat. I hadn't thought of that. “I don't know. We'll find out, I expect.”

He sighs. “Yes, well, I won't be able to wander the city. I shall have to stay hidden.”

I frown. Dalen tagging along is creating more problems than I thought it would. “Perhaps you can stay in the woods while I sneak in and back out?”

He smiles wryly. “I promised not to let you out of my sight, remember?”

“You're going to have to break that promise at some point.”

He's silent and pensive for a few minutes, and the smell of food makes my stomach growl, drowning out the thoughts of Belladoma. This centaur boy has survived a lot too—even the burning down of his village and possible death of his friends.

He divides the eggs between two small bowls and hands one to me, glancing at the gathering clouds in the distance. “We may run into that storm ahead later in the day. There are a few villages scattered about this region. Perhaps we should keep an eye out for an inn if the storm gets bad. You could barter for room and board, while I hide in the stables with the horses.”

“Shelter for the night would be nice, but all I have left in the world are my clothes and a few items in my pack.” I pat the satchel beside me. “We have nothing to barter with.”

“No,” he says. “
You
don't have anything to barter with. I, however, do.”

I finish my eggs and give him an indignant look. “Like what?”

“We've collected many bits and bobs and assorted things that fall onto the paths near our village. It led to rumors of robbers and ghosts in the woods. Anything to make people not inclined to wander too close to where we live. Humans are quite careless, but we hold on to everything. I can cover
any bartering we need to do.”

Suddenly, I feel awkward, as though this is something I should have considered before chasing Hans.

“All right. Thank you.”

He finishes his meal, then packs his things. I follow suit and we head into the woods once more. We walk in silence for almost a mile before it becomes unsettling.

“Dalen,” I say slowly. “Do you hear that?”

He stops and tilts his head, listening to the trees around us. Only the wind rustles through the branches overhead. He frowns. “No, I hear nothing.”

“That's the problem.” I pull my knife out of my belt and glance behind us. My body is tense, ready to run if danger presents itself. Dalen nods, and motions that we should cautiously keep moving forward.

Back is not an option. The witch has made certain of that. The knowledge that she hovers somewhere at the edges of my life, waiting, watching, ensures it.

She may not keep her side of the bargain—she is a witch, after all—but at present playing her game is the only option I have.

We walk painfully slowly to make minimal sound for several minutes. Then an owl hoots nearby, startling us both. Those same eyes I saw in my dream peer from the face of an owl around a tree on the other side of the path. It blinks, and I blink back. What is an owl doing on the ground instead of in a tree? And why is it out during the day? I could've sworn they're nocturnal creatures.

But then, nothing is as it should be in this forest.

Before I can say a word about it to Dalen, the creature has vanished.

“What is it, Greta? Did you see something?” Dalen's face is lined with worry.

“No, not exactly.” I fold my arms across my chest. Did I imagine that strange animal? “I thought I saw something, but whatever it was, it's gone now.”

Sure enough, the birds are chirping again. We continue on.

But now I can't help but think of the wizard and his misdeeds. I thought I was dreaming last night, but what if that odd creature, half raccoon, half owl, was real? I only saw the top half of it—the rest of its body hid behind the tree. Could it be one of the wizard's creations, like the goat-chickens? Or is someone else inventing new hybrids now? If the latter, it is not someone we want to encounter. I'm not equipped to deal with people playing with dangerous magic.

This thought bothers me exceedingly. I need a distraction, but I can't take my mind off hybrids.

“Hybrids are made of magic, yes?”

Dalen nods as he trots along. He is much faster than me, and I can tell he consciously walks slower so I don't have to run.

“What can you do with that magic?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, puzzled.

I cough. “I mean, can you do spells or are you just made from magic?”

“Oh, I see,” he says. “There's a difference between
being made of magic and being able to manipulate it. We are magical. To harness that power, we need to sacrifice a piece of ourselves.” He shakes his head. “It isn't something we do often, and only when absolutely necessary. For example, our mermaids used many of their scales to set up the wards around the village to discourage travelers from wandering in, but it was a slow and painstaking process. They had to rest and recuperate so they would not use too much of themselves and their life force.”

So that's how they knew so quickly that I'd fallen into their domain. The wards warned them when I got too close. “The magic in you is part of what gives you life—so if you use too much of it, you'd die?”

“Correct,” he says gravely.

“Are you always like that?” I ask, gesturing to Dalen's horse end. “Or can you change to all horse or all human?”

He laughs. “That is the oddest question I have ever heard.”

“You don't have to answer,” I say.

He smiles, silver eyes glowing. “No. We remain as you see us, half one creature, half another. Or for some hybrids, different splits. But the result is the same. We remain as the magic crafted us.”

He pulls a strip of bark off a birch and chews thoughtfully on it.

“However, we do have our legends, and they tell of the first hybrid. The Phoenix Queen, mother of us all. She cast the spell that allowed our varied species to be created. The Phoenix Queen wasn't just formed from magic, she
was
magic, and she could wield it as well. Almost like dragons, but she had far more power at her disposal. She could shift forms between human and any animal she pleased. To rule her hybrid people, she most often took the form of a winged woman.”

“She sounds fascinating,” I say. His description reminds me oddly of Kymera. “What happened to her?”

“No one knows. Every fifty years, her mortal form would burst into flames, and she would be reborn from the ashes. Each time a little different, and a little more powerful. But the last time she did not come back. Legend says her ashes scattered to the winds, dripping magic across the lands.” Dalen paws the ground. “What of your hybrid friend? The one who killed the wizard?”

Sadness washes over me. “Her name was Kymera. The wizard made her. She had huge black wings, cat's claws, and a tail. And eyes that could change from perfect blue to cat's yellow.” I pause. “She was rather kind, and sweet, for a monster. But she was not a natural creation by any means.”

Nor were the goat-chickens, or that strange thing I may or may not have seen in my dreams.

“How fascinating,” Dalen says. “Was she able to do magic, too?”

I shudder at the thought. Kymera was always well-intentioned, but magic in her hands would have been dangerous while the wizard had her brainwashed. She was dangerous enough as she was. “No, thankfully. The wizard was bad enough. He convinced her she was saving our city's girls, when really he had her steal them from a
quarantine hospital and send them off to Belladoma. Ensel used this to his advantage and held them captive to be the Sonzeeki's monthly meals.”

“The wizard was a truly wretched being. I'm glad to hear he is dead.”

“Did you ever have a run-in with him?”

Dalen's face clouds over. “Not personally. But my father never returned, and never tried to contact us again. I can only assume . . .” He trails off, tail flailing.

“I'm sorry.” I put a hand on his arm. “I lost many friends to the wizard too.”

I'm beginning to fear I miss too many people. I must move forward or the past will swallow me whole.