Forgotten Crown (The Two Hunters Book 1) Read online

  Clenching my jaw, I curled my fingers into fists, determined to help these people. Silvan and I would discover the nature of this monster, and destroy it.

  31

  Glacia

  Jett’s home was in the center of the village. The old, humble structure didn't look any different from the others, except for a charm hanging in the open window. I stopped to look at it. A large piece of smooth black glass hung by a single golden thread. Both shimmered in the daylight.

  “A charm.” I reached out to touch it and paused, remembering from my studies that charms could be fickle things.

  “If you say so.” Taloos opened the door and went inside. I cast one last look at the charm and followed him. There was something familiar about the glass, its smooth, oval shape. Where had I seen it before?

  The interior of the house was cramped and cluttered. Books stacked in haphazard piles, a sagging armchair and an unlit hearth made up the front room, sharing the space with a small kitchen.

  “He's rather untidy,” I observed.

  “Look at all those books,” Taloos said, his eyes shining. “So many.”

  I eyed the books with a critical eye. There wasn't half so many here as in my tutor's library, and only perhaps a few more than the personal library I had left at home. I frowned. No. The Hall of the Chosen. It wasn't my home. “Don't you have your own books, Taloos?”

  The boy shook his head, the hungry look still in his eyes. “No. I don't know how to read, either. But I want to learn.” He walked over to the nearest stack, his fingertips caressing the top cover. “I hear books contain worlds,” he said, a trace of awe in his voice. “That they contain magic and adventures. And if you let them, have the power to transform you. Change you.” He saw me watching him and his face colored. “That's what I've heard, anyway.”

  I stared at him, my heart thundering in my chest. I'd never been in the position to be of any use to anyone, and now that I was, I wasn't quite sure how to proceed. My voice shook when I spoke. “W-would you like m-me to teach you?”

  Taloos watched me, his eyes wide with incredulity. “You can read?” he whispered. “Did Silvan teach you?”

  My cheeks burned as I shook my head vigorously. “No, he didn't. I could already read when I met him.”

  The boy nodded, a lopsided smile spreading across his dirt streaked face. “Sure, Glacia. I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.”

  I smiled back, as I felt the thread of friendship that was tentatively already there between us strengthen. Taloos was a friend, my second friend.

  Taloos’ smile faded as he peered around the room. “So, what are we looking for, anyway?”

  “Evidence,” I said, speaking with more confidence than I felt. “We need to find something that will prove Jett is responsible for these killings.” I laughed, trying to hide my uncertainty. It just occurred to me that I was trespassing. “Provided he is the one responsible.”

  “Okay.” Taloos began stalking about the room, looking under the chair, and rifling through the books. I saw a door at the back of the room and went toward it. “Check the kitchen,” I ordered. “I'll check the bedroom.” Provided it was a bedroom and not a meat closet. I swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous.

  I exhaled in relief when I saw that it was a bedroom. It was tidier than the front room and kitchen. The bed was made, and the small table clear of clutter except for the stub of an unlit candle and a book.

  I studied the book, feeling a pang of disappointment when I saw it was about herbology. Turning to leave, I paused, seeing the corner of a book peeking out from under the man's pillow.

  I pulled it out, and my stomach clenched in nervous excitement when I saw it was a journal. The last entry was the night Silvan and I had arrived.

  A boy with silver hair has come. I hope against hope that he can end this. That he can save me. Redeem me.

  But that is a foolish hope. I am beyond saving.

  I stared goggle-eyed at the page. How could my guess have landed so perfectly on the mark?

  I read the entry before that. A month ago.

  Anabel is dead. Elysa cried. She flung herself to the earth in grief. I don't have the heart to tell her that her other daughter will be taken next month.

  I blinked, horrified disbelief washing through me. Elysa had already lost a child. And if Silvan hadn't come, she would have lost both.

  I continued reading. Benywyr. Haegr. Waltir. Anae. All people from the village, each entry a month apart, following the cycle of the new moon.

  Some months ago.

  Taloos’s mother was taken. My heart felt nothing. It's already broken so many times I am past feeling guilt. Now all I feel is fear. Always fear.

  I almost dropped the book, my fingers tingling with numbness. Poor Taloos. He'd lost his mother, too. I swallowed, closing my eyes, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. Had he been close to his mother, or did she forget him, too? Like mine?

  I thought about Elysa, and how she'd begged Jett to allow herself to take the place of her daughter. To sacrifice herself in the place of her daughter.

  My mother wouldn't have done that.

  The pages twisted, crumpling under my fists, and I took a deep breath. I tried to smooth them and continued reading.

  Names. Victims. Guilt. Fear. It continued, each entry sounding similar to the last, until the first name. Briar. The old village healer.

  And the entry before that:

  Magic have mercy. I have doomed us all. The Defender and light forsake me, I have cursed us to death and darkness. It will come, black as the night, and destroy my people. It has promised.

  But I will be safe. For now. A life for my life.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the journal entry. What did this mean? I didn't think Jett was a shifter, not unless he was insane, and talked to himself like he was someone else.

  But what was 'it’?

  I stood and slipped the journal back under the pillow, before I thought better of it, before slipping it into my skirt waistband. My hands felt dirty after touching the book and its contents. When I went back into the main room, I found Taloos standing by the window, staring at the charm.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked.

  Taloos continued to stare. “It's strange,” he said. “But when I look at the charm for any length of time, I feel safe. Odd. It must be a coincidence.”

  “I feel safe, too.” I stood shoulder to shoulder with him, and watched the charm also. The black shard of glass gleamed in the late morning light, twirling softly in the breeze that wafted through the open window, black as midnight.

  I shuddered as a wave of evil coursed through me, mixing strangely with the feeling of security.

  A charm, black as night.

  It is coming. For me.

  “Where did he find a piece of glass in that color I wonder?” Taloos mused. “He must have bought it from the Roamers.”

  “It's not glass,” I whispered, staring at the charm’s shape. I remembered now why it seemed so familiar. Too perfectly formed to be glass. Thin, and slightly metallic in its sheen. “It's a scale.”

  Taloos eyed me askance. “From what?”

  I exhaled and inhaled shakily, unable to keep my voice composed. “A dragon.”

  32

  Silvan

  My senses snapped to attention, searching the area as I felt a thread of evil. It was small, almost insignificant, but I didn't want to take any chances when the village had already suffered so much. It came from deeper in the woods.

  Surprising. I assumed it had fled the area a couple of nights before. But it was hungry, used to getting easy prey. Because of me, it hadn’t fed.

  I stepped off the path and plunged into the green, following the presence. It was hard to sense, trying to slip away from my attention.

  A branch snapped under a foot or paw. It was far off, but my ears picked it up. I began running in the direction of the sound, not bothering to conceal my approach. It already knew I was coming.

/>   I gritted my teeth and urged myself to a faster sprint, bounding through the woods as I heard the snapping and terrific crashing of something fleeing before me.

  Something large.

  Reaching out with my ability, I tried to get a better sense of what it was. Almost as ancient as the rock itself, it was immensely old. But strong.

  Hatred and malice oozed from the creature, and I was almost surprised that its emotions didn’t leave a visible trail.

  But the emotions did leave a hidden trail. Using my inner sight, I could see the heavy anger and hatred, curling in the air like smoke, in the wake of its visible trail, the vegetation trampled and broken.

  It was faster than I was in my human form. I cursed under my breath, thankful Glacia wasn’t around to hear me. Transforming would take care of the issue of speed, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to give away my secret yet, in case I needed that element of surprise later.

  ’Course if I wasn’t ever able to catch it, I’d need to shift, anyway.

  As I sprinted down the trail of broken trees and bushes, my mind went over everything I’d heard from the villagers.

  A beast in the forest, demanding sacrifice.

  Villagers, either too frightened to fight back, or unable to. Probably both.

  Peering ahead, I could see a break in the woods, and I pushed myself from the edges, stumbling into the clearing.

  Nothing. But here, with the sunlight shining down in the clearing, I could see the monster’s tracks, clear as day. Huge prints in the soft earth, claw marks digging into the dirt. Tracks going west. Toward the village.

  I stared at the marks, feeling the echo of the beast’s presence.

  I was hunting a dragon. One that ate human flesh.

  Glacia. Her name hung in the air, like the glint of sun on snow on a wintery day.

  Heart thumping, I began to run again. It knew. The creature knew. Was this its revenge, luring me out here so it could attack Glacia?

  A guttural growl bubbled in my throat. If it hurt her, I would rend it limb from limb. I would send it to the abyss. I would tear its heart out and—

  I burst from the cover of the trees, almost to the cottages before I realized I was back at the village.

  I could smell ash and smoke in the air, but I didn’t see a sign of the Beast. I slowed, halting my footsteps.

  Everything seemed normal. Women were hanging laundry and chasing children, and the few men folk who weren’t hunting were lounging on porches, or working in their yards. One man was fixing wagon wheels, and I heard the chop of an axe on wood in the forest off to my left.

  “Silvan!” Glacia appeared, hiking her skirts up to her knees as she ran toward me. Her golden hair tumbled about her shoulders, and her face flushed with excitement.

  I almost dropped to my knees as relief coursed through me. Clenching my jaw, I inhaled and exhaled through my nose. She was all right.

  “We discovered what kind of beast has been attacking this village.”

  We. It was then I realized Taloos was tagging along. It was an effort to swallow my desire to strangle the boy. Definitely a boy, never mind he was my age. He was a good deal scrawnier than I was. I hadn't considered the fact that Glacia might choose to spend time with him, and the idea sparked a feeling I hadn't expected. It's not jealousy. It’s protectiveness. There's a difference. I think.

  “I know,” I replied. “A dragon.” An evil one, twisted in its corruptness, full of hate and malice, but a dragon nonetheless.

  “You saw it?” the boy said. I ignored him, directing my words to Glacia.

  “I sensed him,”—it was very much a he—“but he's quick and cunning.” I paused, considering my words before I spoke them. Dragons were very clever creatures, human-like when it came to their thinking. Maybe even more intelligent, in some cases. Some could even speak. Fortunately for humankind, dragons were extremely reclusive, only leaving their territory if hunger drove them to. It was strange for one to live so close to humans.

  “I'm going to have to devise a plan to ensnare him. He's unwilling to engage me in open battle.” I could hear the smugness in my voice, and it made my face heat. Looking away, I shrugged my shoulders. “I'm glad he didn't come here while I was gone. I'll need to stay closer to the village.”

  “He’s smarter than you are.” Jett came stomping out of the woods, bow slung over one shoulder, a dead deer over the other. “It’ll take more than one boy to track him down, let alone defeat him.”

  “He’s mixed up with the dragon,” Glacia muttered, so quiet I knew only my ears picked it up. “That or he is the dragon.”

  An interesting observation, but for one such as I, it was very apparent that Jett wasn’t a magic user, and he was most certainly not a shapeshifter.

  As the villager leader stalked away toward the collection of houses, I turned to Glacia. “Why do you say that about him? That is a bold accusation.”

  Glacia gave me a hasty account of her morning. I listened, growing ever more mystified.

  “And there are names,” she said. “In this journal.” She pulled a book out of her skirt waistband and handed it to me. She glanced hesitantly at Taloos before continuing, though I couldn’t say why. “Basically, he keeps saying he’s to blame for the killings.”

  “Hmm.” I skimmed over the book's contents. I would have to take a closer look at Jett and see what I could discover. “That isn’t a good sign.”

  Taloos had grown silent, his face shadowed with grief. Glacia looked worried, and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Taloos. We’ll make sure justice is served.”

  “He mentioned my mother, didn’t he?” Taloos mumbled. “In the journal.” He shrugged Glacia’s hand off, and tried to smile. “Don’t worry about me. She’s been dead for a while. I’m over it.”

  It was very clear he wasn’t, and compassion trickled into my heart, replacing the jealousy I felt earlier. “I will hunt the dragon,” I promised, “and end him. I will bring justice to this village.”

  “There’s not much village left,” Taloos scoffed. “Those with any brains will up and leave before long.” He began to walk away, vigorously rubbing at his eyes.

  “Where would they go?” Glacia asked. I lifted my hands, palms upward to indicate I had no idea.

  “Maybe there’s a city somewhere nearby,” I offered.

  Glacia tapped a slim finger on her chin, her pale brow creased in thought. “You said you sensed him, but you never got close enough to see him?”

  I nodded, annoyed to admit I was unsuccessful in my hunt. That didn’t happen very often. “That’s right.”

  “Well, I think that will happen again,” Glacia said. “And again. If he’s afraid of you, he’s not going to give you the chance to attack.”

  “‘Afraid’ is the wrong word, I think,” I replied. “He’s cunning. He clearly didn’t want to fight me, but I’m not even entirely sure if it’s because he thinks I would defeat him.”

  Glacia’s gaze shifted to glance at me sideways. “I have an idea.”

  “Yes?” I arched an eyebrow, watching her warily. Why did I have a bad feeling about this?

  Glacia hesitated and then rushed on, her fingers nervously plucking the front of her skirts. “Take me into the woods, find the dragon, and use me to distract him,” she said.

  “No.” I shook my head, astounded by how bad the idea was. “I’m not going to do that.”

  Glacia’s eyes sparked. “The dragon wants a human, Silvan. If we can come at him from different directions we could—”

  “No!” I hadn’t meant to shout, but it came out as such, anyway. Anger boiled through me, thick and hot. “You could die, Glacia. I’m not going to take that risk.”

  “It’s a chance we have to take, Silvan,” Glacia said. Her eyes sparkled with restrained temper, but she managed to keep her voice even. “If we don’t, we risk losing more villagers.”

  “This village can burn,” I hissed. “I gave up everything, lost everyone, because of you, Glacia
, do you understand? Because of you!”

  I almost choked on the grief that rose inside of me, raging like a forest fire. I’d lost them all. My family.

  Glacia staggered back, her face sheet-white. “I’m sorry, Silvan,” she whispered. “If I’d known what the Elite had meant to you, I would have . . . I would have . . .” Her face crumpled, tears springing to her eyes. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

  I sprang forward before she could run, wrapping her in an unbreakable embrace. “Because of you,” I repeated, my voice shaking. “Because I—because I care about you. More than anything. More than anyone. I can’t lose you, Glacia. I can’t.”

  Glacia sniffled. “I . . . care for you, too,” she said, her voice breaking. “I know you’re an Elite, and that means you have different obligations than most. But I will care for you. Always. And if you ever decide you’re not an Elite . . .” She fell silent, her shoulders stiffening. I knew she felt embarrassed by how much she’d said.

  She loved me. She always had. And that was the closest she would come to saying it. She feared my outright rejection.

  Because I might, even though I didn't want to.

  I inhaled shakily, smelling the pine in her hair. Was I still an Elite? After what had happened? I didn’t know.

  We stood silently, my arms still around her, both of us loathe to break the moment. Glacia’s quiet sobs lessened and faded, her breath slowing as her head rested on my shoulder.

  Glacia was the first to break the moment, pulling away to glare at me with steel-gray eyes, still soaked with tears. “I want to help these people,” she said.

  I sighed, resignation and fear mixing in my chest. “Fine.” I held up a pale hand to stop her from speaking. “Let me think on it,” I said. “Tomorrow we’ll come up with a plan of action on how to best solve this problem. And quickly,” I added. “I want to leave. We don’t belong here.”

  She nodded. “All right.” She paused. “Do you think you could catch a rabbit for Elysa? I don’t think she and her daughter have had much meat. No one hunts for them.”