Page 103 of With Wing And Claw

Far, far below, Orthea was loudly listing names. Hands rose from the crowd at each of them, accompanied by energetic shouts.

‘No,’ Thysandra said, eyes resting on the spectacle below.

‘No what?’

‘They don’t expect me.’ She sighed and straightened away from the cast iron balustrade, stretching her wings to shake off the chill. ‘I’ve never joined the hunt in my lifetime. They know.’

Naxi was quiet for a few moments. The company of contestants began moving in the meantime, bows and swords slung over their shoulders as they made their way along the winding path down the slope of the mountain. Quite possibly, this was the only time in the year the trail was used by fae. The rules of the game forbade explorations of Faewood prior to the event, and flying over or even towards it was generally considered a breach of those rules.

‘Is it the hounds?’ Naxi said.

It was the hounds.

No magic, the rules said. Just wits and physical weapons. The first to draw blood from one of the monsters won a place at the High Lady’s table for the feast; the first to kill one of them won a favour of their choosing. Usually, a few contestants died along the way. This was considered part of the festival’s appeal.

‘I understand if you’re scared of them,’ Naxi added when no answer came, leaning forward in the doorway. Her tone was thoughtful. Almostearnest. ‘I was scared of fire for a while after they burned Mirova. Almost bit Lyn when she showed me her wings for the first time.’

To her own surprise, Thysandra chuckled – a hollow chuckle, but a chuckle all the same. ‘It’s not really a matter of fear.’

A scoff. ‘Youarefrightened of them, Sashka.’

She considered that for a moment as she watched the troupe of hunters disappear behind the edge of the castle’s cliff, the misty hills beyond still echoing with their ribald laughter and cries of excitement. Hundreds of others, she knew, would now be gathering on the south side of the castle, standing on tower balconies or on that same precipice where she’d watched her father’s execution all those years ago, to keep an eye on the forest below and wait for the victor to emerge.

‘I don’t suppose I’m frightened of thehounds,’ she said, finally. ‘Just of the people who use them.’

Naxi hummed a little, non-committal note in response.

‘Do you know why the festival exists in its current form?’ Thysandra continued, her fingers wrapping tight around the edge of the balustrade. In the distance, the voices were quieting. ‘It wasn’t always like this, you know. It used to be a contest between the different fae peoples, when the Mother had not yet united us – they picked a different island every year, went after whatever magical creature was living there, and held the festival in the winner’s name. The Mother only changed it after the Conquest.’

‘Couldn’t let a good thing exist without ruining it, of course,’ Naxi said dreamily. ‘Why did she change it?’

Thysandra closed her eyes. ‘Because the hounds are not so dangerous at all.’

In the small pause between that sentence and the next, a horn blared in the distance. Loud cheers rose in reply, both from the foot of the mountain and from the castle itself – the hunt had officially begun.

‘They mind their own business as long as they’re left alone,’ she went on. Her voice refused to grow louder than a muted whisper. ‘They aren’t particularly aggressive by nature, either. But the Mother introduced this hunt in autumn, and the Milk Moon challenge to steal a pup in spring, and the hounds very, very quickly learned to hate everything walking on two legs.’

‘Oh,’ Naxi said breathlessly. ‘Oh, the poor things!’

As if in response, a harrowing howl emerged from the direction of Faewood, followed immediately by more cheering.

‘Yes,’ Thysandra said, every fibre in her body tensing at the sound.

‘And no doubt she told you it was necessary for the good of the empire?’ There was no mockery in Naxi’s soft voice – no reproach, nohow could you be so blind.‘That a simple execution by blade wouldn’t do to instil duty and discipline in her people? Just a matter of strategy! Nothing to do with her own stupid, twisted sense of entertainment!’

Thysandra’s laugh was like acid, biting and burning as it welled in her throat. ‘You’re starting to know her so well.’

‘I dabble in being a heartless bitch at times,’ Naxi said, her tone the epitome of humble innocence.

‘Not like that.’ It slipped out before she could think. ‘You’re not like that at all.’

This time, the world behind her remained silent. Ten, fifteen seconds, as exhilarated cries rose with irregular intervals from the distant woods …

Then something fuzzy and pink moved on the edge of her sight.

Gaze stubbornly trained on the horizon ahead, slim hands shaking a little as she clutched her shawl to her chest, Naxi came inching towards the balustrade. The morning breeze caught her loose curls as she left the safe haven of the tower wall behind, sweeping them around her face in a dazzling dance of gold and rosy hues; her eyes, just a fraction wide, were the clearest, brightest blue.

Like the freedom of an open summer sky. Like boundless ocean depths in which one could sink and sink and sink and …

---