Page 27 of The Rook

The shifters were in bad shape, but not terribly so that she’d have to leave them in the forest. Or so she hoped. Tempest swiveled to face Brine and placed the back of her hand against his forehead. He was burning up already. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Brine,” she said. “How far are we away from Pyre?”

He groaned and gazed up at her through bloodshot eyes. “Few hours.”

Her lips thinned, and she eyed both men. Stars, she hopedthey both could walk. She wouldn’t be able to carry them herself. “Can you walk?”

“Havvvvve to,” Brine slurred.

“Swiftly?” she murmured.

The horse man cracked an eye. “I can walk. Been hurt worse before.”

“Brine’s calf is injured. I need you to help me with him if you can bear it.”

Swiftly smiled his horsey smile. “We have to. Help me up.”

With many curses and grunts, Tempest managed to get both men on their feet with Brine between them. They began their journey once again. It was a miserable struggle. Tempest panted as they left the dark pine trees that lined the base of the mountains to painfully climb through a deep, narrow valley, its walls the precipitous sides of two neighboring mountains covered in early winter snow.

And you thought you’d be cold.

She huffed out an exhausted laugh. Her body was dripping with sweat, more so from the heat Brine was putting out than from the climb, although her thighs and calves burned. She had no clue how the wolf was keeping up.

Their footsteps upon the stony ground echoed all around, slapping and reverberating off the sides of the mountains until the noise drowned everything out around them. The sound pushed heavily on her ears. From the corner of her eye, Brine winced, his ears lying flat against his skull. She was tempted to ask how much farther when the wolf stumbled and leaned more weight on her. Tempest grunted and dug deep down for more strength, not daring to speak and add to the overwhelming racket around them.

The sun had fully set, and the moon had risen in the sky,lighting their way. Thank Dotae for the small miracles. If the moon hadn’t been out in all its glory, there was no way she could have made this hike in full darkness.

Brine caught the tip of his boot and stumbled once again. Tempest braced her legs and wrapped her arm tighter around his back. He hissed and jerked away from her touch. Liquid ran down her fingers from his back. She’d grabbed his wound.

“Sorry,” she whispered as softly as she could.

The wind whistled above, a haunting melody that caused every deep shadow to look like a monster. She inhaled slowly and tried to calm herself. Even in Brine’s state, he wouldn’t want a creature bearing down on them. And where were they going? There was nothing in the Dread Mountains but danger and death. Once again, her question sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it back. Neither shifter would tell her. Might as well save her breath.

They pressed onward, and their pace slackened. Swiftly careened back and forth, and Tempest could hardly stand, yet they continued on.

Count each step. One foot in front of the other.You can do this. You have to do this, or you will all die.

Somewhere around the count of one-hundred-and-fifty, she registered the sound of footsteps. Footsteps that weren’t theirs. Couldn’t they catch a break? Brine’s head lifted, and his ears stood at full attention. One twitched—a tell-tale sign that somebody else was around. If he’d noticed them at the same time as she had, then the wolf was in worse shape than she’d thought.

Shifters? She brushed the thought aside. They were too loud for shifters.

“I need to set you down,” she whispered to Brine. “I can’t fight and balance you.”

His grip around her waist tightened. “No. Keep going.”

Her lips thinned. At this pace, their pursuers would catch up to them in no time. But, still, they soldiered on through the valley at a snail’s pace. She kept throwing glances over her shoulder. Still no one in sight yet. That was promising at least, but it didn’t last.

Several minutes later, the sounds of their pursuers’ footsteps had become more and more apparent. Tempest glanced behind them and spotted shadows gaining on them. Enough was enough. It was time to stand and fight.

“No more,” she huffed. They couldn’t outrun them.

She manhandled Brine to the side of the ravine, then pulled her bow from her shoulder and nocked an arrow. Hunting in the dark. Ridiculous. The first shadow drew closer at an alarming speed, and her lip curled.

They were shifters. Rot it.

Tempest inhaled and released her arrow with a soft exhale. It went wide and slammed into stone. Hell. Quickly, she whipped another arrow from her quiver when shifters appeared all around them.

An ambush.

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