Page 25 of The Huntsman's Heart
“Of course. We are guardians after all.”
“Then could you teach me?”
He gives me a strange look. “What for? You have us to keep you safe now.”
I bite back the words to tell him I want to leave. Somehow that feels unkind when they’ve tried so hard to make me feel welcome. “For the day, when you are sleeping.”
Corvin ruffles his wing feathers, but Raban gives me an approving nod. “That is a good idea. I will help.”
“As will I, tomorrow.” Évandre gives me a little bow and then leaps into the air to take his perch.
I’m not sure what made me think of asking the gargoyles to train me to fight. I cannot afford to wait long enough for that. Even now it may be too late to see Papa again. I must try, though. With my father dead and me vanished, there is nothing to stop Melantha bringing the kingdom to ruin.
Corvin follows Évandre, leaping into the air to alight on the gate, and the three hounds take their positions in the courtyard.
Raban takes a step closer. The longing in his expression is back, and it ignites the answering tingle within me again.
“It is good for us to have you here, princess. I hope you won’t think of doing anything rash while we sleep.”
“Of course not. Sleep well.” I am practiced in the art of lies, but this one feels thick and dry on my tongue like a tonic that must be taken. Poor, sweet creature. He needs more than crumbling walls to guard.
If only I could give that to him.
Guinevere
The gargoyles were so kind to me and so eager for me to stay with them that I feel a little guilty fastening the overlarge belt around my waist and hunting through the chest of clothing until I find an ornate jeweled knife. It’s not much, but it’s a weapon at least. I tuck it into the belt and put my hair into a long braid. It’s awkward to tie my hair myself, and it takes me a few attempts to get it tight enough to stay.
I consider taking one of the torches from the sconce in the bath house, but in the end I decide that will only draw more attention to me in the woods. And I doubt one small torch would be enough to put off anything that truly wanted to do me harm. I would be better to stub my toe on a hundred unseen rocks than draw a monster out of the dark.
As I walk through the crumbling gates, I look back at the gargoyles sadly. They are sweet creatures. They deserve to be happy. If I thought I would make it back here one day I’d come, but the truth is, I don’t expect to survive my quest.
At that moment, the sun actually manages to break through a gap in the gray clouds between the leafy canopy and it glints off a shape on the walls I hadn’t noticed before. One wing is broken off, and part of its face is missing. Poor thing. I wonder if its soul is resting now. Do creatures like the gargoyles have a soul?
It’s a question I don’t have time to stay and ponder. I must make what progress I can before night falls again. Turning away with regret, I head deeper into the trees, and soon the castle ruins are out of sight.
The morning is long and arduous. I strike out in the opposite direction from which I came to the ruins, hoping this will lead me toward Blackthorn Keep. But soon I find an icy river I must ford, and the current is stronger than I expect. I end up dragging myself through with the help of a fallen log, but I'm washedsome way downstream and decide not to correct my path. I have no idea if I was even going in the right direction anyway.
I’m glad of the tight hose of the prince’s outfit. I’m not certain I would have made it through the stream with heavy skirts on. They certainly make travel more practical. I may never wear a dress again.
My father would be sad. He always liked seeing me looking pretty. My chest aches when I think of him, and I worry I’ll be too late to say goodbye. I wish for the hundredth time that I could take back the last few days. Return to a time when things seemed more innocent.
When I was innocent.
Of course, this leads me to thinking about Alaric, and I imagine with pleasure the moment I plunge the knife between his ribs and have my revenge for the things he did to me. Every bruise, every moment spent captive and helpless. I’d like to repay him like for like for each one. I doubt I’ll have the chance, but I can at least content myself with ending him the way he tried to end me.
A cracking sound to my right makes me suck in a breath. I stop and listen, but I hear no further noise. After a while I continue on.
A few moments later, a strange barking sound draws my attention to my left. My skin starts to prick with phantom awareness, and I draw the small knife, clutching it in white knuckles. Something is definitely watching me.
I wish I could imagine it was the gargoyles come to find me, but they told me themselves, they cannot leave their castle. No, this is something much more sinister, hiding in shadows, refusing to show itself.
I continue on, not sure what else to do. Every now and again there’s a sound, but never from the same direction. I start towonder if I’m being followed by one or multiple monsters. Are they herding me to a secret lair? Into an ambush?
Frustrated, I turn swiftly, hoping to catch a glimpse of something through the trees. All I see is tangled undergrowth and twisted branches. “Come and face me,” I yell.
There’s no response.
It goes on this way for miles. I walk and walk, veering away when I hear a sound, eventually losing track of direction in the thick trees. When I come to a tree split through the center, the right side dry and hanging from the rest while the left side lives, I let out a groan of frustration. I passed this same tree earlier. I recognize it.
