Page 12 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Oh,” I exclaimed, taking a step back in shock. The man wore riding leathers and a long, dark cloak, and though his face was shadowed by the hood, I saw a hint of dark hair sweeping over his forehead and green eyes shining in the dim evening light. A huntsman, maybe? There was a bow slung across his back and a dagger secured at his hip, so it seemed as likely as anything, although I didn’t think mortals ventured into the Bloodwood. At least, not willingly.

“A what?” I asked, hurriedly stuffing the food back into the basket before straightening.

“A strix,” he replied, stepping away from the tree and striding toward me. His voice was deep and smooth. Pleasant even. And he had a slight accent I had never heard before.

I backed up a step as he held out a gloved arm to the bird, who hopped onto the man’s forearm and rustled its feathers comfortably. “They are supposed to be creatures of ill-omen, but Artemis here has only ever brought me good luck.”

The huntsman stroked a finger under the strix’s beak, making it coo with pleasure at the attention. I scowled, still annoyed that this creature had led me on a wild chase through the forest. My boots were well worn and comfortable, but I could feel the blisters that had formed on the backs of my heels as I had run. I was in for a long, painful walk ahead with dirty food for my dinner. The wolf huffed and butted my hand with its wet nose, as if apologizing for its feathery companion. I lifted my hand to scratch its ears.

The man stopped stroking the strix, raising a brow at my hand on the wolf. The strix, clearly annoyed at the end of its massage, turned its head so that its lampent eyes fell upon me. I swear, it seemed to raise a brow as if to challenge me to complain about its little stunt. Suddenly, its bat-like wings folded around its feathery body as it swung itself upside down, gripping its talons into the huntsman's arm and tucking its beak beneath a wing. The huntsman chuckled as he removed the bird from his arm and replaced it on the branch, where I supposed it must be sleeping now.

“What a bizarre creature,” I said,

“Strix guard the gates to the Darklands,” the huntsman said, turning his attention back to me and the wolf. “To stop unprepared mortals like you from wandering in blindly.”

I bristled at the accusation, but didn’t bother to correct him. He gave me an appraising look before leaning against the tree where the strix perched and crossing his arms to study me again. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly as he saw Mama’s necklace, and I quickly shoved it under my blouse and pulled my hood over my copper braid.

“So tell me, Red,” said the huntsman, glancing up in the waning sunlight. “Why are you out here all alone with not a single weapon on you?”

“I don’t see how that’s your business,” I said, taking yet another step back and moving my hand to the back of the wolf. “And as you see, I have a weapon.”

The wolf turned, looking at me with apologetic eyes. The huntsman smirked and whistled, and the wolf’s ears flattened as it let out a quiet whine and trotted over to the man’s side. He stroked its head, crouching as the creature pressed its head to the man’s neck in greeting.

“Traitor,” I murmured. The man let out a laugh.

“Akela is a formidable weapon,” he said, stroking the beast once, then standing and looking at me interestedly, “but he is not yours to wield, I'm afraid.”

“You are master of strix and wolves then?” I asked, resisting the urge to take another step back from the huntsman. I had the nagging feeling that these animals had led me straight to their master, and it was beginning to feel a bit like a trap that I had walked right into.

“Only some,” the huntsman replied, looking up to study me carefully. “What did you do to make them follow you?” I blinked.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, confused. The huntsman was looking at me skeptically.

“Did you feed them?” he asked. “How did you make them come to you?”

I laughed sarcastically.

“Believe me,” I said, “I didn’t do anything. They mademefollowthem.Or at least, the owl—strix—did. She stole my food.” The huntsman’s brows went up at this.

“And Akela?” he asked, nodding to the wolf at his side who stood at loyal attention next to his master. I shrugged.

“No idea,” I said. “I think I saw him a couple of days ago as well. He just…sort of found me.”

“Interesting,” the man said, running a hand absently over the wolf’s neck.

“Well,” I said, trying to inject authority into my voice. “As lovely as it was to meet your pets, I’m afraid I should be going.” I picked up my basket, intending to put distance between the stranger and myself. I had a mission of sorts, and since I wasn’t sure of this man’s motives, I needed to get on my way.

“Where on earth are you planning to go?” the huntsman asked, stepping toward me. I stiffened, and he raised his hands placatingly, as if I was a wild animal he was trying not to startle.

“No offense,” he said, stepping forward again, his hands still raised. I took a step back. “But what is a defenseless, mortal girl doing in the Bloodwood anyway?”

I found myself bristling more than I probably should at being called a “girl.”

“I’m not a mortal girl,” I snapped, scowling at him. “And I am not defenseless.”

“A witch then?” the huntsman asked, narrowing his eyes at me. I nodded. “A witch alone in the woods is a terrible thing.” He looked like he was worried I might bolt any second.

“Why are you out here, Red?” he asked. “And with a shadow stone,” he added, nodding to where I had stuffed the necklace down my shirt.

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