Page 57 of The Flame and the Forsaken

And Destin. Sweet Destin. He should never have been a part of any of it. Everything they’d done was a reminder of what they’d lost, a perpetual loop of pain and sorrow tempered only by the brief rushes of successful conquests. But every one sent him descending further into melancholy. Maybe putting their heists in the past was exactly the thing he needed to finally move forward.

Mariel hobbled along, drawing closer to where they’d seen the densest concentration of the boar-like creatures. Someone had told her once that boars were communal when younger, choosing to live in packs and only becoming solitary when they reached their old age. She guessed that meant the trouble spot was probably a young pack.

Her belly rumbled at the promise of the feast awaiting them. She grinned, imagining Erran’s face when she presented her peace offering. The shock, followed by admiration and, hopefully, reconciliation.

As she neared the spot, she heard the snuffling, snorting sounds they’d come to fear. Deception was a lot harder with a crutch, but there was enough natural forest noise to muffle her search for a spot that would give her both a clear shot and a safe vantage point.

It took her a while before she accepted there wasn’t one, at least not on the ground.

Mariel scanned the trees, and her eyes landed on one that had a good system of branches. She used to love climbing as a lass, hearing her father’s proud voice encouraging her as she went higher and higher. She’d scaled a couple in their heists too, but never with a sprained ankle.

She peered upward, sucking her teeth. All she had to do was climb high enough to keep the boars from being able to reach up and gore or bite her.

Mariel set the spear in a valley of branches, found a good solid place to pull, and, with her good leg, pushed to hoist herself up.

Panting, she gave herself a quick break before inching herself farther in. She strained, nestling the spear on a higher branch, and climbed higher.

The ground seemed farther than she’d expected when standing beneath the tree, but it was certainly high enough to protect her. Only problem was she couldn’t see much from the center of the tree, where she had the most protection and stability. She’d need to slide outward on a supportive branch to get a clearer view.

The one she was on seemed like it would do the trick. She gave it a couple of hard bounces to test but stopped when the leaves rustled.

Mariel tucked the spear tight to her armpit and carefully, quietly, pulled herself along the branch until she had a clear view of the ground. Two boars were grazing on the same bush. They hadn’t noticed her yet. She saw no others, but they could have been nearby.

The tricky part would be finding a way to sit, balance,andthrow the spear, but she only had to wound a boar. Once it no longer posed a threat, she would give it a clean death, a dagger across the throat.

Once the first one was hit, the second would realize the danger and run. But if she missed... If she missed, they’d all come for her. There’d be nowhere to run and no safe way to descend.

She inched slowly down the branch, the spear pressed between her palm and the branch itself. The morning was already hot. Sweat peppered her face... the back of her neck. Wiping it wasn’t an option, or she’d lose her tenuous balance.

Almost there,she thought with a triumphant inner cheer. She’d always been an excellent shot. Bow, spear, crossbow. Erran had done a good job carving the weapon, using a heavier wood that would catch good air and wouldn’t easily splinter.I can do this.

The branch bowed, sending leaves shimmering to the ground. One boar stopped eating for a moment, snorted twice, and resumed.

Now that she could get a good look at them, she was stunned at their size. And these were the younger ones?

Mariel arched her back as she pushed upward, attempting to swing her legs down so she was straddling the branch, but as she did, the spear slipped from her hand and went crashing to the forest floor. Both boars abandoned their grazing and started toward the fallen spear.

“Cursed hell,” she hissed, wincing from her terrible, terrible error. There’d be no easy way to return for it, because of where it had fallen, without being spotted by the very beasts she was trying to both avoid and kill.

Erran could make another spear, but that wasn’t the point. She couldn’t return empty-handed. Her gesture had to say all she could not.

Think. Think!There were thinner branches, some longer than others. One seemed long enough to reach the ground, but even if she could graze the spear, she had nothing to hook it.Unlessshe also used the leaves to make a sling of sorts, but even then, the boars had been spooked and?—

A loud crack broke the silence. She’d only just registered what it was before she went crashing to the ground.

The force of landing knocked the air out of her. She’d landed on her bad ankle, and the pain was absolutely blinding. Her crutch was still propped at the base of the tree, and she wasn’t even sure she couldcrawlfar enough.

Low snorts drew closer. She looked up, still gripping the fallen branch, and found both boars staring right at her. One bared his lower tusks, revealing sharp orange teeth. A viscous wad of drool plopped onto the fallen leaves. Its breath smelled like years-rotted cabbage.

Mariel stopped breathing and went as still as she could. There was no chance of outrunning them, even if her ankle wasn’t useless. With certain bears, one could sometimes play dead, but she had no idea if it worked on boars. She guessed not, by the way they were sizing her up.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. One of the boars squealed, whinnying in pain as it started galloping away. It made it as far as the bush it had been munching on before buckling to the ground.

The other boar darted into the brush, its hooves shaking the earth in its hasty departure.

Mariel, stunned and delirious with pain, watched Erran stand over the dying boar with his sword. He knelt and dragged it across the beast’s neck, just as Mariel had planned to do, and waited for it to bleed out before coming to her.

“Where... the spear...” She couldn’t get any more words out.

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