Page 18 of Kill the Beast
“They won’t know where it is,” Alderic said. “Not exactly.”
“Right.” The map leading to the Beast’s den was in Alderic’sparlor. Lyssa conjured the image of the cluttered space in her mind, comforting as a talisman. An entire army could search that room for months on end and never find what they were looking for. But it still wasn’t enough to assuage her fears completely. Honoria wouldn’t let a messy house and a missing map stop her. “The forest isn’t that big, though. With enough people, the Hound-wardens could comb the entire thing in a matter of days.”
“The forest might be small, but it holds more secrets than you realize,” Alderic told her, picking a piece of fern out of his hair. “Compasses refuse to work there, and the trees are so dense that it’s easy to get lost. Even my map would be useless without me to explain the landmarks to you. Right now, I am the only one who knows where the Beast is.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lyssa argued. “Honoria has time and numbers on her side. If there is a Hound to be found, she will flush it out eventually.”
“The Beast cannot be flushed out,” Alderic said. There was an edge to his voice, as though he were offended by her misgivings. “I have been studying it for some time now, and it seems to only emerge a few times a year. The remainder of its foul existence is spent in a state of hibernation, and its den is so well-camouflaged that the Hound-wardens could turn over every single stone in that forest tomorrow, and they would still fail to unearth it without my cooperation.”
He looked like he was about to say more, but at that moment, the crow that had been watching them swooped down from the oak tree, landing in front of them, and morphed into Nadia with a blur that made Lyssa’s eyes itch. Alderic let out a yelp and nearly knocked Lyssa over as he attempted to hide behind her. “Is that her? Is that the witch?” he hissed in her ear.
Lyssa looked at him incredulously. “You’re not afraid of a knife to your throat, but you’re afraid of a baby witch?”
“Witch intraining,” Nadia corrected with an expression that could curdle milk. “You’re not supposed to bring strangers here.”
“We were all strangers here, once, remember?” Lyssa reminded her. “Besides, it was an emergency. Go tell Rags to expect company.”
Nadia lifted her chin, her jaw set. “I don’t take orders from you.”
“You’re right. A surprise visitorwouldbe better. You know how much Rags loves surprises.”
The little witch scowled and turned on her heel, crashing through the undergrowth in the direction of the cottage. “Raaaags! Lyssa brought amanhere!”
Brandy whined, and Lyssa nudged his rump with her foot. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” With one last growl at Alderic for good measure, he bounded after Nadia.
Lyssa and Alderic moved at a much slower pace—Alderic’s shoes were not exactly made for hiking through the woods, and he had to stop two more times to throw up. Still, he was doing surprisingly well, considering how many pints he’d had at the Morningstar. Lyssa would have blacked out ages ago, but Alderic didn’t even seem tipsy anymore. When she commented on it, he shrugged.
“I have a good metabolism.” Then, with a wry smile, he added, “I also have a sneaking suspicion that Molly waters down my beers.”
When they finally got to the cottage, Nadia and Ragnhild were out on the porch swing. Nadia was wearing the smug expression of a child who has tattled to a school teacher. Rags looked furious. She glared at Alderic and sniffed the air, her nostrils flaring as though he had some sort of odor clinging to him. The only things Lyssa smelled on him were his flowery perfume and the remnants of the beer he had thrown up.
“Is there a reason you brought a stranger stinking of faerie-magic to my door?” the witch demanded, turning her glare on Lyssa.
Alderic raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Faerie-magic?”
“The claw,” Lyssa told him. “Rags, this is Alderic. You can call him Al.”
Alderic got that pinched look again. “Actually, I would prefer it if—”
“Al, this is Ragnhild—we call her Rags. You’ve already met Nadia, Ragnhild’s apprentice.”
“Alderic,” the old witch said, tasting the name on her tongue. “Who is he and why is he here?”
“He hired me to kill the Beast of Buxton Fields,” Lyssa said, her pulse quickening as she said the words. It still didn’t feel real. “And before you ask—yes, he knows where to find it, and he has one of its claws.”
The witches gaped at Alderic in disbelief.
“I want him to stay here with you while I gather the ingredients for the weapon,” she added. “The Hound-wardens know what I’m after, and that Alderic is involved. It isn’t safe for him to return home.”
Rags stood from the porch swing with a grunt. “Let’s see what the bones have to say.”
Nadia was perched on one of the kitchen chairs, her gaze fixed on Alderic, who was sitting across from her. Alderic, meanwhile, kept glancing at Lyssa as if she could rescue him from the little witch’s scrutiny, and Lyssa was clenching her teeth against the unbearably loud sound of Brandy licking his paws.
“What is she doing in there?” Alderic asked finally in a hushed voice, nodding his head toward the doorway. Ragnhild had disappeared through it not long ago, leaving the rest of them to wait in the kitchen, and now they could hear her muttering faintly to herself in the other room.
“Consulting the bones,” Lyssa and Nadia said at the same time.
“But what does that mean?”
