Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(26)

I studied them as we walked, trying to figure out the secret to their invisibility in my Sight. Only after minutes of careful observation could I sense the subtle ways they wound the magic of the forest around themselves like camouflage. They made it look as natural as breathing.

In keeping with the Tamers’ subtlety, I had no idea we were upon their camp until the wind shifted to blow from the north, bringing with it the scent of roasting meat. One of the scouts ahead whistled the melancholy song of a night bird. In the distance, hidden voices echoed her, the message traveling from tree to tree.

As we neared the cook fire, I coughed through the cloth in my mouth. Something was roasting over smoldering coals deep in a stone-lined pit—wild hog from the smell of it. Fat dripped from the meat, hissing as it struck the glowing embers. A few paces east of the pit, a sheer cliff jutted up abruptly. Moss and lichens clung to the gray rocks, barely visible in the light cast by the fire. The top of the bluff lay somewhere out of sight, obscured by the fog.

The hunters distributed themselves around the pit, tossing Hal on the ground like a sack of grain.

I looked around fearfully, my skittish gaze finally coming to rest on a short woman approaching us. She walked with a hitch in her step and an intricately carved cane in her right hand. A lynx slunk behind her, its spotted coat blending into the shadows. Firelight reflected in silver rings that adorned her ears from top to bottom. Though she stood short enough that I could easily see over her unruly thatch of white hair, she carried herself as though she was twice her height and half her age.

She came to a stop in front of me, fixing me with a pointed gaze. The hunters shoved me to my knees before her. The lynx stared at me, the tip of its stubby tail twitching.

“What did you drag in now, Kaja?” the woman asked, looking down at me with sharp humor in her green eyes.

“Trespassers, Elder. She had this with her.” Kaja tossed my satchel at the woman’s feet.

The elder bent down slowly and looked through my vials with interest. She held up one of the glass containers toward the light from the cooking pit. Luminous bits of fire flower glowed and sparkled as the liquid sloshed. Then she thumbed through my journal, eyebrows rising as she took in the careful script and detailed drawings in both my hand and Miriel’s, pages upon pages filled with recipes for tinctures—and enchantments made with my blood.

“It’s not often one of your kind visits our forest,” Mukira said, tilting her head at me like a predator sizing up its kill.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I hoped she didn’t know I was a demigod. I could have stolen the satchel or its contents.

She stepped forward and touched her staff to my shoulder. Magic coursed through me in a wave, and for a heartbeat I could feel the entire forest as though it were part of me. When she pulled it away, I gasped at the loss of connection.

“The gift runs in your blood,” she said.

A chill danced down my back. She knew. Her ability to touch the forest’s power must have let her sense my magic. I hoped she didn’t know the other gifts my blood carried. I hugged my arms around myself as if I could somehow shield my secrets from her view.

“After decades of little more to do than hold off the human trash trying to cut down our forests to expand their cities, we seem to have a lot of trespassers this week. Interesting that two children of the gods should appear in our lands on the heels of a dragon.” She stared at me appraisingly. “Tell me why I should let you live.”

A dragon.

I surged to my feet, eliciting growls from the two closest dogs. “Is it a white dragon? When did you last see her?”

A surprised expression passed over the elder’s face like a swift cloud through the night sky. “How do you know about our hunt?”

“I don’t know about any hunt, but I’m looking for her. My—I mean, the white dragon. Does she have a scar on her left cheek?” I asked. Whatever they wanted, I would give it for them to reunite me with Ina.

Elder Mukira did not react, but the twin girls standing near Hal exchanged a knowing glance.

My pulse quickened.

It had to be Ina.

“Supposing it is the same dragon, what are you going to do to help us kill her? If that dragon stays and hunts in this forest for even a few weeks, it will destroy the order we’ve worked for generations to protect. Our lands cannot accommodate a predator of that size. We have enough problems with the city people pressing into our lands.” Her eyes bored into me.

“If you let me and Hal go, I’ll make sure she leaves your forest,” I said, growing bolder. I couldn’t let her kill Ina.

“And how do you intend to do that?” Mukira asked.

I didn’t answer. Miriel had taught me the rules of bargaining. She who speaks last loses. We stared at each other until the others began to shift their weight, waiting for one of us to make a move.

“I suppose there’s more than one way to gut a hare,” Mukira finally mused. “I’m curious to see how you plan to reason with one of the wildest creatures alive, too dangerous even to Tame. So it shall be—but if you fail, both you and the boy die.”

This was far more than I’d bargained for, and Mukira knew it, but I had no choice.

“As you say,” I said, trying to ignore the way my stomach turned over with nerves.

Mukira kissed the top of her staff and then touched it to my left shoulder. A tingle of power danced through me as she sealed our bargain.