Page 35 of The Ordeals
‘Wait,’ he says, pausing and holding up a hand. ‘Can you hear that?’
I hold my breath, listening to the surrounding forest as Tessa freezes a few paces away. ‘I don’t hear … anything.’
‘Exactly.’
I turn around slowly, scanning the trees and the gaps in between, draped in shadow as I clutch the rifle to my chest. The silver bullets are loaded inside, a few more clinking in my coat pocket. But it brings me little comfort. I’m an awful shot, not that I’ll admit it to Alden. When the Collector trained me in rifles and revolvers, I could never hold the damn things steady. He concluded the training pretty swiftly, reasoning that working with a switchblade and combat practice with long, wooden stakes on the kind of assignments he sent me on was quieter and more efficient than carrying a revolver in my purse.
I sniff the air, the scent of blood seemingly stronger, the copper burning the back of my throat. ‘How far to the wolfsbane patch?’ I murmur.
‘Next clearing. No more than twenty feet.’
I slip forward, checking every pool of darkness, pulse skittering and wild. ‘I don’t think it’s werewolves we need to worry about.’
‘What?’
Tessa eyes me quietly as well, but behind her steady demeanour, there’s a flicker of fear.
‘Just keep moving.’
Within ten steps, I get that feeling. Like eyes are running over me, sliding over my skin … watching me. Call it what you will, magic or instinct or an extra sense, but I know there’s another creature in these woods tonight. Something that shouldn’t be here, something monstrous. And I’d bet every silver bullet in this damn rifle that itisthe same kind of monster that murdered Dolly and that Greg killed. Something I’m beginning to suspect is vampiric. Something hunting us.
Tessa moves on ahead, scouting out every turn in our path, rifle pointed.
‘I hate these woods,’ Alden says abruptly, the frown indented in his brow. ‘Make a point of spending as little time here as possible now.’
‘Why?’ I ask softly as he pauses, scanning the undergrowth.
He swallows, eyes flitting briefly to mine, and there’s a haunted quality to his gaze. ‘It’s where my father died. He was … he was murdered.’
My breath catches and before I can stop the words, they spill from my lips. ‘I’m so sorry. My— A person I cared about very much was murdered too. Dolly. She was called Dolly.’ Saying her name, the whispered shape of it drifting around us, before dispersing in the cold night air somehow relieves a weight I hadn’t realised I’d been carrying. ‘I haven’t spoken of her since …’
A warm hand rests on my shoulder and I look up, my eyesmeeting his. He’s staring at me, a softness to his gaze that seems to ease that load in my heart a little more. ‘I understand. Truly. More than you know.’
I expel a breath and nod quickly. ‘Thank you.’
He removes his hand, and I feel the ghost of it. For a moment, I wish it had lingered there longer. But then he’s striding forward, Tessa beckoning, aiming for a grove of gelding trees.
‘Here,’ Tessa says as the gelding trees abruptly thin out. We step into a clearing, and again I catch that scent of copper.
Alden immediately begins a loop around the clearing, checking we haven’t been followed, that we’re safe here for a moment, and I bend low, reaching out to pluck one of the pale purple flowers carpeting the clearing—
‘No!’ Tessa cries, knocking my hand away. I whip my eyes to hers. ‘You can’t touch the petals. Only touch the stems. It can be lethal to us.’
I blink quickly. If Tessa hadn’t, if she didn’t stop me … ‘Thank you,’ I say quietly. ‘You didn’t have to, but you did—’
‘Alliances go both ways.’ She smiles and shrugs. ‘Wash your hands as well before you touch your mouth. It’ll help Greg, but to us … Sophia? What is it?’
I’m scanning the tree line, rifle cocked in my hands, cheekbone pressed into the cold metal as I level it on the surrounding gloom. Alden sidesteps towards us, sweeping his own rifle back and forth, covering our backs as Tessa quickly gathers the flowers. My heart thrums like a caged bird, but I hold my nerve, that rank smell suffusing the clearing. ‘Greg transformed in front of me earlier when I found him,’ I murmur. ‘A creature was stalking him through the woods. Something monstrous. Something I’ve seen before. But Greg can’t remember any of it.’
Tessa stills, quickly placing the wolfsbane in a cloth bag then inher jacket pocket. She rises slowly, rifle also cocked, squinting as she levels it on the trees beside me, as Alden breathes, ‘If it’s what I think it could be, we haven’t had their kind here for years.’
The wind catches at the branches, whistling with a low, tortured moan as I begin to step slowly back to the path we took to reach this clearing. When I reach the edges, movement catches in my periphery, pale and fleeting. But when I focus, when I peer into the shadow … there’s nothing. My fingertips tingle, heart thudding in my ears as I angle my head, eyeing Alden. He nods, indicating we should keep moving.
‘I believe we are being hunted.’
It’s clear this Ordeal was never about memorising plant lore, or having a natural aptitude with poisons and antidotes as botanists. It’s about survival, quick thinking, and if you’re bitten, being able to identify and forage for a patch of wolfsbane. Ordeal of Poisons indeed. Professor Hess stretched the name of this Ordeal. ‘Let’s go. Now,’ I murmur, lowering my rifle and instead reach for the wooden stake as Tessa and Alden flank me on either side.
He nods once, gaze snapping to the same shadows as mine. As we make our way back to the hunting lodge, it never leaves me. That feeling. And somehow, I know this monster stalking us, this pale apparition haunting the shadowy folds is not meant to be part of this Ordeal. That coppery stench of warm blood can only mean one thing …
