The Glass Arrow(71)

My heart trips in my chest. If I hadn’t been convinced they were searching for us before, I am now. And not just us. Me.

My hand falters, but I lift it again, steadying my breath. The quiver is just over my shoulder, but I’ve already stuffed a dozen extra arrows into the waistband of these Driver pants. Kiran’s words echo through my head. I might be able to strike them all before they know what’s hit them, but I’m safer hiding if they don’t know I’m here.

The vision of the Watcher, the blood draining from his neck, fills my mind, and the sweat rolls down my forehead and burns my eyes. I’m not sure I can do it again.

“What’s that?” says one of the men in gray.

“A dog,” answers Checkered Pants. “Kill it before its pack comes.”

Brax. I bite down hard enough for my teeth to crack.

One of the Trackers pulls a black gun from his waistband and aims it into the brush. I can’t see Brax. I nearly fall out of my hiding place trying to follow the man’s sight line. In the silence, I hear a low growl and know they’ve found my friend.

I draw back the arrow and the string stretches with a morbid creak.

The Tracker fires one shot. Two. I nearly drop the bow right onto the man below me. My lungs collapse. I can’t find the air.

“Get it?” asks Checkered Pants.

My shaking hands restring the bow, preparing to avenge him even as I’m refusing to believe he’s dead.

“Scrammed,” says one of the others. “Scared him off. He won’t bother us no more.”

“We’ll pick up the last set of hoofprints and start again,” says Checkered Pants. “I want to catch her before the weather turns and we lose our trail.”

A few seconds later they disappear, riding at an urgent trot towards the south.

I want more than anything to get down from this tree; I need to warn Kiran that they’re on his tail, I need to find Brax and make sure he’s all right. Right now the tree feels just as much of a prison as the solitary pen at the Garden did. But I can’t get down. Not yet. I have to wait a little longer. Just a little longer, until I’m sure they aren’t coming back.

Until I’m sure this isn’t a trap.

I count to one hundred and am just about to climb down when I see Brax.

He’s come to the bottom of the trunk, panting. He’s not injured. There’s no sign of blood on him. My stomach feels as though I’ve just fallen from this very tree I’m hiding in. He paws the trunk, crystal blue eyes trained on mine.

He’s telling me the way is clear.

I swing down, feeling the sting from a dozen cuts I gained on my hasty climb up. I grab him by the scruff of the neck.

“Next time hide, you idiot.”

He licks my face. His breath stinks worse than ever.

That’s when I hear the scream.

I recognize the voice; I heard it just yesterday in the solitary yard.

Daphne.

I’m running before I can think to stop. I try my hardest to focus on the origin of that cry—how loud it was, exactly where I turned when I heard it—because Daphne doesn’t make another sound.

I should have killed the Trackers when I’d had the chance.

“Brax, find Kiran,” I say. “Come on, boy.”

He spins on his hindquarters and runs. I follow, racing after him, forgetting my need to stay silent. Kiran saved my life. He’s out here because of what I did. I can’t let anything happen to him.

And Daphne. Crazy as she makes me, I can’t leave her now.

Brax runs though the brush, opposite the direction of the Trackers, away from where Kiran and Daphne rode off. Either they switched course, or we’re going the wrong way.

We do not search long.

The woods open to a clearing facing a steep shale cliff. Daphne and the horse are pressed against it, held in place by a large black bear.

He roars, bouncing from all four paws to his hind legs as he lumbers towards them. Tufts of fur, shed in preparation for the warm season, shake from his thick coat. Standing, he’s as big as a Watcher. I cannot see Kiran.

He’s not with them. I creep behind the bear, knowing I’m downwind because otherwise he would have charged me by now. He’s young and small, only three times my size, but he’ll have claws as long as my fingers and teeth strong enough to rip me apart.

Daphne’s trying to hide herself behind Dell, who is stomping her hooves and snorting. I can see the whites of the mare’s eyes from here. If Daphne isn’t careful, the horse is going to trample her.

I move closer. Now I’m just fifteen paces away and I can hear the rumbling growl coming from the bear’s chest. The fear coming off Daphne and the horse is drawing him in. I can almost taste it from here.

There is something on the ground between them. A lump in the fallen leaves.

A body.

“No!” I slap a hand over my mouth.

It’s Kiran. He’s lying motionless. My mind races to try to figure out what happened. Has he been shot by the Trackers? Has the bear already attacked him? Was he thrown from Dell?

There’s danger in making too much noise—I can easily bring the Trackers back our way. But the best way to fend off a bear is to be a bigger bear, and so to save Kiran, I have to do it.

“Get ready to run,” I tell Brax, and fit an arrow to the bow.