Page 13 of Great Falls Rogue
I pull my mouth back, River’s panting breath filling my ears. His gray eyes narrow, his beautiful face straining with a mix of confusion and restraint. With questions I can’t answer.
“I… I have to go.” I tell him, pulling back more roughly than I should. I’ve no choice. Another moment in his arms and I know I will damn the whole world to hell before leaving. “I—”
River steps away so quickly, cold air rushes to fill the void between us. His eyes are wide now, his hands grabbing his head, making his dark hair stand up in tufts. “Leralynn.” River’s chest heaves, cracking open my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, backing away beneath the finaldong, dong, dongof the tower bell.
My last sight of the terrace before I rush out the double doors is that of River standing with his back to me, his shoulders hunched as he braces himself against the rail.
9
Lera
“You are cutting it close,” Gavriel steps out from behind the cluster of whispering trees guarding the escape tunnel entrance. He’s draped in his usual dark robes, his thinning brown hair poking up in wild tufts that speak to long hours bent over a desk. Holding out a bow and quiver, he checks me over with a scrutinizing gaze—though I’m not sure what he can possibly see in this light. I pull the final part of my outfit on before taking the bow—an armored leather vest that laces up the side, the hardest place for a sword to reach. In my fitted black pants, boots, and long-sleeved tunic, my hair in a tight braid down my back, I feel far more myself than I did only moments ago in that gown—now crumpled in a beautiful blue heap behind the usual bush.
I sling the quiver over my chest, Gavriel’s eyes widening at my brusque movements. “Have a care. Those arrowheads are saturated with eradicant. Unwrap them carefully before firing—and remember that you need to hit the Yocklol’s eye. This is all the eradicant we have, and it will sour in forty-five—no, forty—minutes. No diversions before you deploy it.”
“I know.” I make my voice strong. Or think I do, until Gavriel frowns at me with perceptive brown eyes. Of all days for Gavriel to pay attention, of course he’d choose today.
“Are you feeling ill?” Stepping forward, the librarian touches my forehead, and it’s all I can do not to jump back, the memory of River’s touch still searing through me. Gavriel’s frown deepens. “Your life is more vital than killing those Yocklol trees, Leralynn. If you aren’t feeling well—”
“I’m fine.” My heart pounds, my words coming with a snap I don’t intend. “I’m mad at myself for being late. Let’s get this done and go to bed.” Without waiting for Gavriel’s reply, I open the trap grating and slip into the darkness. I’m already on the floor of the tunnel when Gavriel’s final words—ones not intended for my hearing judging by the mutter—reach my ears. “Be careful, Lera. Please.”
I am only halfsurprised when, a mile into the hike, Shade’s wolf trots up beside me, his gray fur and yellow eyes gleaming in the moonlight, black muzzle opened in a soft pant. How the animal—or Shade himself—gets in and out of the Academy is still a mystery to me, but one I am happy to leave alone for now. Reaching around the back of my neck, I take off the amulet, feeling a weight lift from my skin, the slight haze in my mind clearing.
Beside me, Shade sneezes.Some small creature chitters in the branches above us, scared from its rest.
Tucking the veil amuletsecurely into a pouch around my neck, I follow the now-familiar trail to the Yocklol trees, the memory of River’s lips fighting for my concentration so much, I nearly trip over a root. “Things aren’t supposed to be this complicated,” I tell the wolf, who blinks at me with bright yellow eyes that seem to sayWant to chase a rabbit together?
I scratch Shade’s ear, which doesn’t require me leaning down any, and pick up my pace. By my calculation, I’ve only ten minutes of the eradicant’s effective window left when I reach the first of the yellow Yocklols. Thanking the stars that all five—no, nowsix—of the things are near each other today, I ease the bow off my shoulders and carefully unwrap the arrowheads. The one beauty of this arrangement is that I should be able to hit the trunks from far enough away to stay clear of the writhing tentacles.
The memory of River floods me again, the dismayed look on his face as I stepped away making my stomach clench.
Stop it.
Bracing my shoulder against an oak, I take a few calming breaths, trying to think of something happier. River’s lips on mine. Exploring, claiming.
The taste of him, after having tasted none of the males in a month, felt as intoxicating as Tye’s strongest brandy. Is intoxicating me still, apparently, despite the effort I’ve put to focus on my mission.
Except I best sober up quickly. Ostera is here, and the moon continues shifting along the sky with each passing minute.I have to keep my mind in the now, not in memories of a bed long ago. My hand brushes against the rough bark, grounding myself. When I look at the Yocklol trees again, I can finally think clearly.
Which is when I notice the six eyes are open. Blinking. Watching.
I swallow, turning about. Someone or something had to have been here recently enough to have woken the things. I’d chalk it up to an unfortunate animal if one or two had wakened, but all six? I take a deep breath, but the wind is blowing against my back, the scents it carries limited to ground already covered.A glance at the moon has my heart speeding again. Whatever else is out here tonight, I’ll have to deal with it later.
Nocking the first of my ten arrows into my bow, I pull the string back to my ear, aim at the first open Yocklol eye, and release.
The arrow hits with a soft thud, its head crumpling before falling to the ground. If that is supposed to have happened, Gavriel forgot to mention it. Either that, or I missed the eye. I am still pulling the second arrow onto my bow when a darkened spot appears on the Yocklol’s yellow trunk, making the thing look like a bruised banana.
Relief rushes through me, and I shift position for a clear shot at the next Yocklol, nocking my next arrow as I move. Focusing on my next target, I let my mind go blank as I pull back on the bow. Take aim along my forearm. Breathe in. Out. Hold and release.
The arrow flies as straight as the first one did, managing to catch the Yocklol’s eye despite the tree’s sudden shift. I wonder if the thing is smart enough to sense that something is amiss or whether the movement was simple coincidence. Making a mental note of it to ask Gavriel, I draw my third arrow and pull back.
Shade whines.
So much for coincidence. Over the extended arrow tip, I mark all the Yocklols moving away now, the two I hit earlier limping behind the deadly herd. Yellow tentacles slither up and down, concealing the target eye.
“Smart bastards, aren’t you,” I mutter, wincing as a slimed yellow vine flicks an errant squirrel. The small animal runs off, unaware that it’s already dead. My teeth clench. Yocklols are a toxic blight that not even the horrors of Mors want around, and they need to wither. Tonight. I will make sure of it.
