The Glass Arrow(94)

“Let’s go home,” I say between sobs. “Get up, boy. We’ve got to go. Get up!”

I’m going to teach him how to guard our camp. He’s going to come with me to hunt grouse and fish. My wolf is never going to eat trash again.

A rumble begins in Kiran’s chest. A low hum parts his lips, pressed against my hair just above my ear. His voice cracks, then grows stronger.

Kiran’s singing. He’s singing Brax’s soul on to Mother Hawk. Like I did for Bian and Metea. Like I did for my ma. I don’t ask how he knows to do this, I just wish he’d stop. Brax isn’t ready. He hasn’t even seen how good freedom can be.

“No,” I tell Kiran, shaking my head. My face is wet with tears. We don’t have time for this, we have to go.

Kiran doesn’t stop. His voice lifts. His grip never loosens and he keeps rocking. Front and back. Front and back. The air is so thick I can barely breathe. The night is so dark it masks all my senses. Everything but the pain.

Brax is dead.

The fight dies inside of me, and I sag in Kiran’s arms. My lips stay sealed, but a scream echoes inside my ribs.

Kiran stands slowly, pulling me with him. I rest my head back on his shoulder. It takes me a moment to realize he’s speaking to someone.

Lorcan. He stands silently beside us. I don’t know how long he’s been there.

They want me to go. To leave Brax here, half under the brush with the same scum who took his life. And much as I hate it, they’re right.

We must move on. We’ve already been here too long.

I detach from Kiran’s chest.

“Did you find the other one?” I ask Lorcan, my voice weak.

Lorcan shakes his head.

“We should split up, go different directions,” says Kiran.

“They’re looking for me,” I say. It’s clear now if they come after me, they’re going to find the twins.

My gaze lifts to meet Lorcan’s. I don’t have the strength to feel as grateful for what he’s done as I should. All I can do is beg for his help one more time.

“You have to take care of them. You can protect them. All of them. Daphne too.” I hesitate. “And when I’m sure the Trackers won’t follow, I’ll meet you at our mountain.”

A strange look passes over Lorcan’s face. His brows pinch, and he runs his knuckles absently down his throat.

“I’ll bring her home,” assures Kiran. My throat swells with emotion.

A few moments later, when Lorcan and the palomino are gone, I turn to Kiran and say, “I have to bury Brax.”

He doesn’t say a word, he just nods.





CHAPTER 23

WE LAY BRAX’S BODY to rest between two pine trees, where the ground is soft and less riddled by roots. Because of our hurry, the grave is too shallow. There’s not even a stone to mark the spot. It is a far cry from the hero’s funeral he deserves, but it’s all we can do. When we’re done, my fingernails are ripped and dirty and my hands are bright red with cold.

“I’m sorry, Brax.”

These are the only words I can think to say. As soon as they’re uttered, Kiran hoists me up atop Dell, and together we ride hard southwest.

The sun rises what seems like too soon, and with it, new concern for my family. I hope Daphne has found the twins, and that they’ve arrived at the river, and that Lorcan is there to protect them. I tell myself right now they’re safer with someone else, but it feels wrong.

Every emotion within me is worn thin, like the ragged seams of my clothes. My temper is just on the edge of burning. My eyes are filled to the brim with tears. I even giggle a few times, for no reason. Amidst all these edges is a hole, right in the center of my chest. The one Brax used to fill.

Kiran turns against the sun at a yellowing meadow and retraces our tracks the opposite direction. We branch out southeast and then turn back again. We follow trails that lead to nowhere, then backtrack. Should someone follow, they will be led astray over and over.

My stomach grumbles with nerves and hunger throughout the early morning. The dew dampens our faces and chills my skin. I wonder if the twins are cold and if Daphne knows where to find them food. Tam’s so grown up now; he’ll probably take care of Nina himself.

Kiran dismounts when we return to the meadow in the midmorning. We’ve been here four times today taking various paths, but when Kiran crouches beside an outcropping of tracks, it’s not just Dell’s shod imprints he sees, but the semicircle track of a cheap, hired animal, like the fares at the Driver barn.

Trackers have been here since we last were.

The other prints are lost in the harder ground, and though we search, we find no more.

Kiran remounts, his lips drawn in a thin, straight line. Tucked within his belt beneath the shirt, he’s carrying two guns that he stole off the dead Virulent. His bow rests across one thigh. I scan the surrounding area for any sign of movement, an arrow notched in Aran’s bow. Every falling pinecone and chirping bird draws our eyes.

“I say we follow Lorcan,” he whispers as Dell creeps through the woods.

“We can’t. If they’re watching us, we’ll lead them home.”

Kiran shakes his head in frustration.

“What do you propose then?”

I don’t answer. I don’t know.

We don’t rest until the sun is high overhead. The stream where we stop is cool and clear, and I kneel and dip my hands and face into the water to scrub away the dried blood and muck. But it doesn’t wash away the harsh memories. I don’t think anything can do that.