Page 35 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
When the land dips into a hollow, Shade finally motions us to halt. “We’ll camp here tonight,” he says. “There’s good cover, and the stream will hide our scent.”
Sable grins, dropping his pack with theatrical relief. “I thought you were trying to kill us all, brother.”
Shade just growls. “Not until tomorrow.”
“Brother?” I ask, glancing between them.
“Adopted,” Shade says, not quite meeting my gaze.
“Are all of you brothers?”
“We are,” Bran confirms, sliding his arm around my waist to lead me to a fallen log. “We were taken in by the same couple.”
“What happened to them?”
“The same thing that always happens in places like this,” Grim says, his tone as dark as his expression.
I’m not sure what that means, and I don’t ask. I simply file the information away for later, another little mystery in a long line of them.
The men move with easy efficiency, each claiming a task. Sable and Talon scout the perimeter, moving in silent tandem, more animal than man. Shade starts a fire with two stones and a handful of dry moss. Bran helps Onyx build a shelter, weaving branches together with practiced hands. Grim sharpens his blade, his eyes never leaving the trees. Rune circles the camp, marking the boundaries with lines of ash and strange sigils I don’t recognize. A few times, it seems as if he glows blue in thedim light, but when I look again, his skin is as pale as ever, and I’m sure I just imagined it.
I watch them, fascinated by the way they move, the way they belong to each other and to the wild. There’s a rhythm here, a harmony that makes me feel like I’m a discordant note.
I sit by the fire, the black feather from the tower clutched in my fist. It’s bent and frayed at the edges, but I can’t let it go.
Bran comes to sit beside me, offering a chunk of dried meat and a handful of berries. “You should eat,” he says.
I nibble at the food, but mostly I watch the men. “How long have you been…brothers?”
He considers. “Longer than you’ve been alive.”
I flinch at the possibility that they’re far older than I first thought, but Bran just smiles, soft and sad. “The couple who took us in did so when we were just boys, little more than infants. We were cast out again a few years later, when our adopted mother died.”
I glance at the others, at the way Shade and Grim orbit each other, always at odds but never apart. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. They were cast out by one meant to love them. I was trapped by the one meant to protect me.
“What happens if my father catches us?” I can’t help but ask.
Bran’s jaw tightens. “He won’t,” he says, his tone all grim confidence, as if he can bend the world to his will simply by saying it.
The fire crackles, sending up sparks that float like fireflies. The night grows colder, the trees crowding in as if they want to listen. I feel watched, but not just by the men. The whole forest has eyes.
After dinner, the men gather around the fire. Shade sits with his back to the flame, scanning the woods. Grim is next to him, his face a study in controlled violence. Talon and Sable wrestle on the ground, each trying to pin the other, their laughter edgedwith threat. Onyx and Rune flank me, their presence solid and reassuring.
I curl my toes into the moss, the pain a reminder that I’m real, that this is all happening. I close my eyes, listening to the night.
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls, the sound little more than an echo. A chorus of howls rise up in response, the sound swelling and then fading away.
The men stiffen, exchanging glances.
“Hunters,” Shade says. “King’s men.”
My heart stutters with fear.
Grim bares his teeth. “Let them come.”
“They’re nowhere close, but we’ll move before dawn,” Shade says, then turns to me. “You should sleep.”
I don’t argue. My body aches in ways I didn’t know were possible.
