For two months after my father was murdered, I routinely woke to Casimir hovering over my bed while he shook my shoulders. Tears stained my bedsheets; my forehead was slick with sweat. Casimir would wrap his arms around my shoulder and stroke my hair, rocking me till I fell asleep.
I stopped crying after the third month when a new purpose took over. Samu was still out there, and I had to find him. The goal consumed every thought, every dream, every nightmare. There was no time to continue mourning my father; it was shoved to the back of my mind. But now I have Samu back. I wonder if that's why I wake in the evening with damp eyes for the first time in 10 months.
My first thought other than my father is one of panic. But then I register the shadows on the side of the tent and the distant chatter outside. Night hasn't fallen yet. I relax back into the mattress.
I left Josul on the beach after lunch, catching sight of where Lei and Killian prepared for their voyage to see Myers. They prepared no carriage, instead packing the saddles of two large horses as they mewed softly at a tuft of hay. I stood in the shadows as they murmured plans in low voices, picking up enough of an idea to understand when they were to leave. Midnight. Sanaa caught me then, hiding in the shadows. She invited me for a walk, but I politely declined, claiming I was tired from 'training' and wanted to rest before dinner.
It was a half-truth. I needed time to plan how the hell I was going to follow Lei and Killian if they were on horseback and I was on foot. My only shot was tracking the horses. Casimir taught me to track hares, so I figured it couldn't be that different, could it?
I hadn't meant to fall asleep, and I certainly didn't mean to wake up crying for the first time in months. But in the Torinnian shifter camp on the coast of Elel, Casimir isn't there to lull me back to sleep. I lie deathly still as I stare at the roof of the tent, rippling gently in the wind. Tears leak across my cheeks and down my neck. There's no doubt in my mind that wherever he is, he's searching for me just as dedicated as I searched for Samu.
Casimir grounded me. And in the wake of the past few days, what's been revealed about my supposed past, I feel like a fallen leaf, swirling in the wind from one place to another, unsure where it should land. Samu is here, but not really. My father is still dead, but he was a liar. And somehow, Myers, a man labeled crazy by the entire village of Veymaw, is tangled up in all this.
I turn over, burying my face in the lumpy pillow, and cry. For the first time since the months after his death, I allow myself to think of my father.
His warm smile, soft hands, and the sweet smell of his bread every Saturday morning when I woke up. Long ago, I stopped believing in the idea of good or bad. Morality isn't black and white, it's a myriad of different shades of grey. But the father that I knew was all good. I want to protect the sacred memory of him from the tainted truths.
It's hours before the sky is entirely dark and the voices outside eventually fade. That's when I know it's time to go.
***
Moonlight bleeds through the thick canopy of leaves. It's a spotlight on the pathway as I crouch behind a large boulder, the black cape I knicked from outside of Draigh's tent concealing half of my face.
Lei sits atop her bay horse, staring at Killian. He stands by his horse in the moonlight, talking in hushed voices to Sanaa and Josul, her guards stoic a few feet away. The thin, linen clothing they both donned the past few days has been exchanged for black garments and leather boots, both their belts home to sheathed knives.
All I managed to knick was a black cape and a pair of slightly too large boots. Trying for anything else, even in the dead of night, was too much of a risk. I couldn't miss this.
"Avoid Dadun if you can," Sanaa says. "Sofiya scouted Ereon's guards travelling east of the village, towards Portson. And keep your eyes peeled for infected. Their numbers are increasing, Draigh spotted three yesterday went he went to get fresh water. Stay out of their way, avoid a fight if you can."
I make a mental note, fear twisting in my stomach.
Killian nods. "Anything from Veymaw?"
"Still nothing, just patrols."
"He should've raided the village by now," Lei says from atop the horse.
I shift closer, edging around the boulder and straining my ears. Since my arrival, I haven't bothered asking about Veymaw. Killian mentioned that it would be the first place Ereon would search for me, and I hadn't argued. The thought scared me. But for all the villagers of Veymaw know, I was taken or killed the night of the Red Moon. I have to believe that the King wouldn't hurt any of them unnecessarily, however foolish that may be. But listening to their conversation, it seems I'm not the only one who may have been wrong.
"Ereon is smarter than we gave him credit for," Killian says, glancing from Sanaa to Lei. "He either realises Veymaw is the last place the deserters would hide her, or he's realised it wasn't the deserters who took Freya from the Palace in the first place. Neither option is good."
"It's what we expected," Sanaa murmurs, face tight as she nods. "Even so, be cautious."
"Cautious?" Lei snorts. "Killian? You realise who you're talking to, right?"
Killian rolls his eyes. "We'll be careful."
Sanaa puts a hand on Killian's shoulder and he nods before hoisting himself onto the saddle of the horse. She steps back in line with her guards, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of her cape.
"Sanaa?" Killian says. He turns to look down at her. Back straight, his hair ruffling in the wind, he's the picture of elegance atop the horse. "Remember what I said about Freya."
Sanaa nods. "She'll be safe."
His lips press together in a firm line. The horse's coat shimmers beneath the moon as Killian directs it forward with a soft kick of his heel, Lei bringing up the rear. I wait patiently, energy thrumming through my body as Sanaa stares after them. She waits till they've completely disappeared from view before turning and heading back along the path.
I press myself against the boulder, holding my breath as they shuffle closer, speaking in hushed tones.
"...he can be trusted to get what we need." I catch the end of Josul's sentence as they brush past.
I wait till several minutes have passed before creeping out from behind the boulder and in the direction after the horses. Unease settles in my stomach as I start through the trees. I'm hyperaware that every step I take to follow is a greater distance between Samu and me. But contrary to a few days ago, I don't fear for his safety here. And if what Sanaa has told me is true, Veymaw isn't safe for Samu, either.
My best bet at helping Samu and myself is finding my way back to Casimir. He'll know what to do; he always does. And now is my chance.
To my benefit, the vegetation is too dense for Killian and Lei's horses to move faster than a trot, but there's no guarantee it'll stay that way for long and the hoof indents in the bouncy shrubs don't last long.
I start at a quick pace, careful not to create any more of a track than the hooves have already left. There's no telling how long it'll take for Sanaa to notice I've left, I'm hoping not until morning. By then, it'll be too late.
***
The heavy scent of rain permeates the air as night shifts to dawn, black giving way to a navy sky. My legs ache from walking, and my lungs burn. Aside from a couple of gulps of water from a small stream a couple of hours ago, I haven't wasted any time searching for a water source.
Anytime I lose track of the hoof marks, the paranoia sinks in the I discard any consideration of stopping for any reason. I can't afford to lose their tracks. Getting lost here, in the middle of the Elel countryside which I have no familiarity with, could be potentially life-threatening.
All night I trekked through the dense forest with my hand wrapped around the hilt of my dagger. The whistle of the wind, the distant cooing of an animal, the rustling of the branches--they all add to the paranoia.
Sanaa mentioned the presence of infected around their camp.
I remember the sounds of that shifter feasting on the horse's corpse, the horrendous stench. And if both my run-ins with infected have taught me anything, it's that I wouldn't stand a chance if I were caught in the crossfire.
It's hard to tell how far I've walked, but the rising sun is a welcome addition, fighting off the winter chill that covers the night. The first sign of rainfall hits half an hour later, a fat drop seeping through the hood of my cape. I gaze up to the sky, praying it's simply a light drizzle, but the clouds are dark grey as they roll across the sky.
I curse, picking up the pace as another drop falls. Then another. There are only another five minutes before it turns into a torrential downpour. Thankfully, the cape shields me from most of it, only the bottom of my trousers dampening. But as I continue forward, shielding my face from the rain, another horror sets in.
The rain washes away the tracks.
The path, once indented with hoof marks, turns into muddied, puddled earth. I frantically quicken my pace, heading in the same direction, my eyes darting all over the ground, but my attempts are futile. The tracks, any semblance of hoof marks, they've trickled into the stream of rain gushing from the sky.
There's movement in my peripheral vision. I dart my head to the left, narrowing my eyes to pierce through the sheets of rain. A misty fog lingers in the trees, making it difficult to see through. But there's nothing there. I take slow steps backward, reaching for the hilt of my dagger.
Another movement flashes in front of me, so fast that if I'd blinked I'd have missed it.
I wield the dagger in front of me, backing up slowly towards the trunk of a tree. In my chest, my heart hammers. Before the infected found us the night it attacked the horse, I'd heard a strange growling sound and that rotten scent. But I know even the rain could mask the warning signs.
A clap of thunder echoes through the sky at the same time a dark figure appears in the trees. I tighten my grip on the dagger, back pressing against the trunk of the tree.
Prepared to fight.