Page 84 of The Cursed and the Broken
He knickered, nibbling on my fingertips softly as I pulled away. I smiled, leaning down to scratch Laszlo behind the ears. A low whine pulled from his throat, as if he already knew he couldn’t come.
“Not this time.” I savoured his warmth, the cuddliness of his coat as I forced him into a hug. He allowed it begrudgingly, licking my cheek. “Go home,” I said, jerking my head towards Mistvellen. Margit had promised to look after them both and I was certain Laszlo would have a fine throne on her bed while I was gone.
He whimpered once more and the sound pulled at my heart, but I couldn’t risk him getting hurt again and the deepest part of the forest was too tight—too dangerous for them both. “Go,” I demanded sternly.
Arló pawed at the ground, tossing his mane, but he began trotting home, Laszlo by his side. The latter looked back at me like I’d wounded him, but it was for the best.
I turned to the forest, taking a deep breath before I entered and, without looking back, I stalked into the trees, headed to the place where darker things dwelled.
THIRTY-SEVEN
It had taken me half aday to find the group and Dante fumed upon seeing me. When I’d explained how I’d found him so quickly, he had sworn a string of curses that had made even me blush, while András had laughed like it was the biggest joke he’d heard all year.
At least the latter had been happy to see me, I thought miserably. Deep down, Dante must have known I’d follow. Short of locking me up, there wasn’t much he could have done and he would never stoop so low. My freedom meant everything to me—my choices. He respected that, even if he hated what it could cost him.
Days had passed and still we’d seen no sign of cultists lurking in the woods. The branches tangled above, blocking out the sun and stars alike. All remained quiet. Deathly silence enveloped us, as if those inhabiting the Sötét Erdo had fled its boughs and burrows.
I hoped the animals had escaped the sticky grasp of corruption spreading within. We were careful not to touch the tar-like substance dripping from branches and pooling in leaves—keeping fingers firmly by our sides, our strides cautious and measured.
András stayed close, his mouth firmly set in the flickering firelight. My heart warmed at his protectiveness. I felt pulled to him. His charming smile and wit made him easily likeable and he was someone I could see myself growing close to in time. He’d grown uncharacteristically gloomy over the last few days, but I supposed the woods were to thank for that. This place had a way of wearing down the spirit. The trees seemed to huddle together the farther we walked, bearing down on our hearts and souls, ensnaring us in their roots.
Dante tracked the forest floor, searching for signs of boot prints, snapped twigs and damaged foliage. A bloodhound on the scent. He’d been distant since we’d left, a worried frown always marring his features. We’d never finished our conversation back at Mistvellen. He’d been about to share something important and that thought still hung over me like a cloud, but we hadn’t broached the subject again. Truthfully, I think he was still too angry to be around me. Whether that was at me or the situation we were in, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t blame him for being angry. The price of being caught by the cultists was steep and our mission came with many perils. It angered me, the thought of Sylvie’s resurrection. Why must she come back? A war loomed on the back of one woman. A single witch whose words had the power to wield lies and instil blind devotion in her followers. And yet, Fate and Death both promised her return was necessary. Margit had her visions. It was written.
Sighing, I smoothed a hand down my braid, sparing a glance at the wolf lord snuffling at trails I couldn’t see. Before we’d arrived at Mistvellen, he’d had no qualms about my joining the scouting party, but Margit’s vision had changed everything?our whole relationship had.
What did he expect? I knew he didn’t like me when we first met, but regardless of how things had developed, I was my own woman and was free to make my own choices. He knew that—hell, he encouraged it. Other men might have locked me away, threatened me with violence or worse, but Dante had not stood between me and the horrors that awaited and that meant ... it meant everything.
So why the distance? Why the cold shoulder? I bit my lip as András bumped my elbow, jolting me from my thoughts. I flicked a tongue over my lip, the tart taste of metal in my mouth.
He shared an apologetic look, his green eyes softening. “A coin for your thoughts?”
I flattened my palm against the blade sheathed at my thigh, comforted by its weight, the cool hilt against my skin. “We’ve been wandering aimlessly for days. I just … I thought we would have found them by now.”
He nodded. “Time passes slowly in this place. The rot festers, clinging to all living things. Do you feel it?” His lips turned down, puckering in distaste. “It fogs the mind, weighs heavy on the shoulders. I fear time spells our ruin should we linger much longer.”
Tension bracketed my neck, pressing uncomfortably down my spine. He spoke true. I felt sluggish, my bones brittle and muscles slow. I glared at the surrounding trees slick with crawling black, the sticky sap dripping from their branches. A root snagged my boot and I stumbled forwards, András holding me upright in his firm grip.
Anger and embarrassment surged through me like lightning. “Mother mercy, this fucking place—” I blinked rapidly, leaning down to study the offending root.
“What is it?” András asked softly, his hand still clenching my arm as if afraid I might murder the trees.
“I recognise this tree. I’ve tripped on it once already,” I breathed, shooting daggers at the root. I remember looking at it earlier this … morning? I couldn’t tell what time it was, but it didn’t matter. Sure enough, I spotted the whorls and cracks of a mark resembling a hag with a bent nose and an evil grin. I’d thought it amusing earlier, now it just seemed to mock me.
“Are you sure?” András said, brow raised and scepticism crinkling his fine features.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” I snapped. “I swear on my father’s grave we’ve been here before. Don’t you see András? We’re going in circles.”
“Kitarni,” he started, but I ignored him, storming towards Dante.
“Do you have anything you’d like to share with the group,tracker?” I hissed in his ear.
He looked at me, amusement quirking one side of his lips. “What have I done to earn your ire now, dear one?”
I jabbed him in the chest. “Pack your pretty boy smile a bag because it’s going on a trip. You’re stalling, Dante. Why?” His smile faltered and surprise lightened the depths of his gaze. “Did you think you could keep us in the dark forever?”
“Nice,” András muttered behind me. I gifted him a glare and he quieted, crossing his arms over his chest. The other scouts shuffled awkwardly, finding anything other than Dante or me to look at. All except András, who grinned like a king’s fool.
