Page 115 of Thief of Souls
“We don’t!” I Sift out of the way, rendezvousing with Soraya on the other side of the beast. “It’s impervious to mortal weapons.”
“Falion’s idea, no doubt. I swear, I’m going to drown that smug prick in the blood lily pool. He’s going to be picking weed out of his crushed velvet for weeks.”
“You’re starting to sound a little fond of him,” I muse. “I thought you’d simply try to kill him.”
“I did try,” Soraya growls. “Let’s just say, I think he’s got my measure. Although, apparently he can’t kill me because my life is bound to Mistmark’s.”
I ignore her glare. “I did actually think of that. Handfasted couples are bound to each other for a year and a day.”
It’s an ancient custom between warring fae courts that’s probably saved many a life. By the time a year and a day has ended, often cooler heads have prevailed, and in some cases both bride and groom no longer want to kill each other.
We skid around a corner and slide to a halt.
“Dead end. Curse it.” Soraya looks this way and that. “And no way out.”
“Here.” I cup my hands and kneel. “The way out isup.”
“With this bloody hedge trying to take a swipe at me at every step,” she grumbles, but she steps into my hands, and I throw her into the air.
Grabbing the horn, I Sift after her just as the beast crashes right through the hedge beneath us.
The shock as it hits the trees takes my feet out from under me. I catch a glimpse of Soraya’s startled expression and then she’s falling too. A branch stabs into my shoulder, and the horn is torn from my grip.
No!
The ground comes at me too fast to Sift, but the second I land I vanish into the shadows, punching back into reality several feet away. Lucky. The questing beast’s slavering jaw closes right where I should have been, its teeth clashing over nothing more than empty air.
“Z!” Soraya launches beneath it, her knife slicing through the tendon in its heel.
I launch into a dive, grabbing the horn and rolling beneath the creature’s hooves. The flash of its dappled belly glides over my head, before I’m rolling to my feet on the other side of it. “This way!”
We sprint for the exit of the maze as the questing beast gives another furious roar behind us. A glance over my shoulder reveals its crimson eyes locking on us furiously. Soraya injured it, but the creature heals too fast to remain crippled for too long.
A door appears in the maze walls. I slam against it, and the polished timber bursts open. The cave beyond is dark, leading into the mountain court. We slam the doors shut behind us, but two seconds later an enormous jarring impact throws me off my feet.
Desperation fills me as I scramble across the gravel floor just as the creature appears. It’s enormous nostrils flare as it turns its lizard-like head this way and that, a long thin tongue flickering out to taste the air.
“Blow the horn!” Soraya snaps, blood dropping from her temples as she presses her back against the rock wall.
She’s trapped there.
Our eyes meet.
“It can only be used once!”
“Then use it! Blow the cursed horn!”
I set the horn to my lips and blow.
Nothing happens. I’d been expecting the bellow of something like the trollhorns they have in the north, but this is silent. All I can hear is my breath, whispering through the brass curve.
“It didn’t work.” I jerk the blasted thing down.
But Soraya’s face pales, as if she sees something I don’t. “Stay still,” she whispers, sinking back against the rock. “Don’t move.”
Mist pours into the cavern, lit from above with eerie blue. Little gleaming lights sparkle within it, and it’s not until it draws closer that I realize they’re eyes.
The grymhounds of the Wild Hunt.
