Page 12 of Held

Wick nodded and wondered if this was a good time to ask about the eye-closing thing. It was obviously significant.

He led her out of the cave. Briar seemed eager to step out into the forest, her shoulders sagging in relief as the sunlight fell on her skin. Then she spotted the dead human from last night and huffed.

“Good riddance,” she said softly.

Wick looked over at her. Based on her attitude before, he had expected her to be more dismissive, or even victorious over his death. But she sounded almost regretful as they walked away from him, deeper into the forest.

“Did you know him?” Wick asked.

“Who?” Briar twisted to look at the corpse behind them in surprise. “Oh, him? Barely. He’s a bounty hunter. At least, he isnow. Apparently, some of my fellow thieves, criminals, and bandits came together to hunt me down. That’s why I was inyour cave in the first place; I needed something big and bad to distract them while I ran.”

It was a sensible tactic. Wick didn’t know why it made his chest feel heavy.

“Bounty hunter?” he asked.

She frowned up at him, uncomprehending. She looked different in the daylight, her features thrown into stark relief. She looked… weary. Like she was older than her years. From the little he knew of humans, she was in her younger adult years. But she carried herself like she had seen much of the world and its dangers.

“Oh,” she said, her brow smoothing with understanding. “A bounty hunter is someone who collects someone for money. Usually dead. You don’t get out much, do you?”

“Not often,” he agreed.

She cocked her head at him, considering. Her pale hair fell over her face, and Wick experienced the strange sensation of wanting to push it behind her ears. It was the same impulse that made him want to pat baby rabbits and stroke river moss. It was usually followed by blood and claw marks.

Wick clenched his hands into fists. The blood frenzy was dormant, for now. But never for long.

“I thought Skullstalkers lived in voids,” she said thoughtfully.

“Not me,” he admitted. “I’ve always lived in the mortal realm.”

“Really? Huh.” Briar craned her head, frowning through the trees. “Gods, it’s going to take forever to get to Marigold’s place from here.”

“Marigold?”

“The witch.” Briar paused, looking up at him thoughtfully. She stepped in front of him, bringing them both to a stop.

“What is it?” Wick asked.

Briar reached up and, with only a little hesitation, touched a spike on the edge of his wing. “These things work, right?”

“They do,” Wick said slowly, confused. She had seen him fly briefly last night; he remembered flying at the bounty hunters, though his memories were spotty with blood frenzy.

Briar smiled pointedly up at him.

“You want me to fly,” he realized. “But what about you?”

She laughed. Then, when she noticed he wasn’t joking, she touched his wing with both hands.

“You’re strong enough to carry one little ol’ thief,” she said.

Wick stopped. She meant for him to…carryher? It made sense, now that he thought about it. He just had never done it before. Even the idea made him nervous. She could fall from his arms, or the amulet could fall from her neck, causing him to go into a blood frenzy all the way up in the air.

“Just an idea,” she said with a placating smile. “If that’s not your style, then—oh gods!”

She cut off with a bright laugh as he hefted her into his arms. She was inconsequentially light, just as she was last night. He worried he would frighten her, or that he should have warned her first. But the fear coming from her skin was so faint he almost didn’t notice it.

“Alright then,” she said, wriggling against his chest. “Let’s go, big boy.”

Five

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