Page 27 of Born into Darkness

“This is Axe,” Rake said, draping an arm around the shoulders of the dwarf dressed in armor.

The one with the wolf’s head muscled them both out the way.

“Hunter,” he said with a wink.

He tried to copy his friend by leaning to plant a kiss on my hand, but I snatched it away.

Sea God.Not more flirty dwarves. One was enough, thank you.

They bowed in greeting, and I nodded in return.

“Nice to meet you all,” I said.

“Shall we go, Snow?” Teeny asked, wearing a roguish smile.

“Please,” I said, following him.

“Carry this,” Teeny said on our way out of the cave. “For your safety.”

I accepted the sheath, removing the dagger with its ivory handle inscribed with runes, twisting it in my fingers before shoving it back into its pouch and tucking it into my boot.

Outside, I glanced around, trying to get my bearings. The lean of the shadow cast by the rocks stretching above suggested we were facing east. On my way up the mountain pass, I’d noticed a stream to the south. But we’d have to navigate some rough terrain to get there. Steep slopes covered in pines, with boulders jutting out everywhere, surrounded us in every direction.

Crystal clear skies welcomed us into the rocky forest. Branches swayed in unison with the breeze carrying through the trees. The smell of pine, dirt, dried leaves, and moss hit me, and I inhaled deeply. A big change from the damp smell of soil in my prison cell or the earthy scent in my resistance chamber.

Teeny negotiated the landscape like a mountain goat, leaping from rock to rock with perfect balance.

“Allow me,” said Rake, taking my hand, stopping me from almost rolling my ankle on an uneven stone.

Normally, I would have recoiled, but his grasp steadied me, stopping me from plunging down the steep incline. For that I was grateful, but I quickly removed myself from his grasp once I’d regained my footing.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Snow,” said Rake.

How? Who was talking about me? Before I had a chance to ask for clarification, Hunter shouldered him out of the way, and Rake bumped into the side of a boulder, tearing a hole in his beautiful cape.

“You like hunting?” Hunter asked me.

“Yes,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder. “My father and I went every month to catch game.”

Rake’s eyes bugged at the damage to his clothes. “Hunter! I’m going to kill you.”

“Just you try,” replied Hunter, stroking the wolf’s fur across his chest, as if trying to highlight it. “I love hunting boar.” The glassy eyes of the dead animal drilled into me, forcing me to look away.

Boar flesh was tough and sometimes dry. They were much harder to catch and far more dangerous than a deer, rabbit or pheasant. Over the years, my father had lost too many hounds to boars’ tusks.

“Do you hunt with hounds?” I asked, brushing aside a low-hanging branch.

Hunter laughed, as if that notion were ridiculous. “I trap the boars then spear them. Afterward, I carry them back to my hut and roast them.”

It took two large men to carry a boar back from a hunt. How the hell did Hunter manage that on his own? Somehow, I doubted his statement. It seemed more like a brag to impress me. But I said nothing and smiled inside.

Hunter grabbed his britches and adjusted them. “You like to fish?”

“Love it,” I said. “Well, I used to. I haven’t gone in a while.”

Flashbacks of my father teaching me, threading the twine, tossing the bait, and luring in the fish played out in my head. I pictured my father’s proud smile and recalled how he’d patted me on the back when I caught my first trout. That night, we’d dined on the fish I’d caught, and my father boasted about it to any of the servants who’d listen. I remembered how relaxing it was to sit and wait for the fish to catch the bait. My father always said it cleared his mind, helped him think through problems with the orchards and come up with solutions for them. At age seventeen, I was old enough to appreciate this advice, using our fishing trips to come up with new ways to discourage insects, better fertilization techniques, and produced a greater yield process.

Hunter smiled, as if my words pleased him. “I like a lady who knows her way around a fishing line.” He trotted up next to Axe and nudged him. “You hear that?”

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