We arrived in a clearing alive with chirping crickets. Tuck lingered on the edge, cloaked in darkness, and I remained behind her. Together we waited, letting the forest drown out the sounds of our breathing.
At last something rustled in the trees, and a weedy young man stepped out from the other side of the clearing. He was older than Tuck, but still gangly, as if he hadn’t adjusted to his long limbs yet. Or maybe he was just too thin.
“I know you’re here,” he said. “I haven’t got all night.”
Tuck held her finger to her lips, and we remained still. The young man paced up and down the length of the clearing, sighing often and dramatically.
“I heard ’bout your job this morning. The whole bloody village has. I’ve got buyers, so how about we stop all these games and get down to business?”
Even in the darkness, I saw Tuck’s posture change. Crooking her finger at me, she stepped into the clearing, her shoulders square and her blue eyes bright in the moonlight.
“What kind of buyers?” she said, and I followed a few paces behind.
“The kind that pay with anything you want,” said the young man with a gap-toothed grin, and he trained his focus on me. “You must be the thief I’ve heard so much about. Seems you gave our dear earl a right scare. I don’t see it, personally.”
“Yeah, well, wait until he has a knife to your throat, Barry,” said Tuck. “Now let’s talk price.”
I stayed quiet as the two of them bartered. Tuck only accepted food that would keep and things we would need to survive in the forest—clothes, weapons, the essentials. Anytime the young man, Barry, mentioned gold or silver, Tuck shook her head and steered him back toward useful trades.
There had to be something I was missing—something the Fates needed me to see—but what was it? A thought nagged in the back of my mind, but every time I tried to get closer, it moved just out of reach.
Perfect. Wasn’t as if the entire fate of my family was on the line or anything.
At last they seemed to reach an agreement, and Tuck moved back toward the trees. “Meet me back here at dawn with the goods. I’ll bring the loot. If anyone follows you, I’ll hang you from a tree using your own innards.”
Barry grinned, and there was something unnerving about it. “Couldn’t possibly turn you in, m’lady. That wouldn’t be at all chivalrous.”
He slipped back into the darkness, and as Tuck and I headed through the trees—a hundred and twenty degrees in the wrong direction—I realized what felt so wrong about this whole thing.
“He didn’t mention the pendant,” I said as we started to turn back toward camp. “He knew exactly what was taken, down to the bean, but not a word about the earl’s most prized possession.”
A line formed between Tuck’s eyebrows. “Because he knows I’d never give it up,” she said, but there was doubt in her voice.
We walked the rest of the way in tense silence, both undoubtedly contemplating the same thing. Did Barry know she wouldn’t give the pendant up? Or was there another reason?
I should’ve known—mortals weren’t that difficult to figure out most of the time, but when Tuck wasn’t willing to give me all of the information, I didn’t have a chance. Hard to put the pieces together when they weren’t all there.
Less than fifty paces from camp, I heard it—the faint sounds of rustling behind us. I froze and held up a hand to Tuck, and she stopped midstep.
Climb a tree. Never in a million years should I have talked to a mortal like this, but we didn’t have much choice. Her eyes widened, and all the color drained from her face. Do it. We’re being followed. I’ll explain later.
To her credit, she only hesitated for a split second before she soundlessly climbed the nearest tree. I didn’t have time to admire her skills—I scampered up after her, and together we balanced precariously on the highest branch that could hold us. She clung to the tree, her nails digging into the bark, and I wasn’t sure which she was more afraid of: me or the people following us.
Four men emerged from the trees within seconds. They wore the same black as the guards from that morning, which helped them blend into the night, and the one on point held up his hand. Beside me, Tuck stiffened. And we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
“They’re gone,” whispered one of the guards, and another one nodded in agreement. The leader grumbled.
“Gotta keep looking. I’d rather not be flayed, if it’s all the same to you lot.”
“We’ll have no chance,” said the first guard. “Not without a trail.”
“Couldn’t have gone far. If we split up, we’ll have a better chance of—”
He stopped cold, and in the distance, the sound of Perry’s laughter filtered through the night.
The boys. They were sitting ducks.
Except for the fact that I was a god and had plenty of options. I took a breath, ready to divert their attention and send them in the opposite direction, but before I could tell Tuck I had it handled, she screamed.
It was an earsplitting scream, the sort that would be heard for miles, and I grimaced. There went our chances of getting out of this. The guards shouted and pointed upward, but all I saw on Tuck’s face was grim determination. The scream wasn’t out of fear; she was trying to warn the boys.
But naturally, as Tuck jumped from the branch and landed on one of the guards, the boys came running toward us. Even if Tuck had planned some sort of signal ahead of time, she severely underestimated what they were willing to do to help her.
Sprout charged through the trees, brandishing a club, with Perry and Mac close behind. He caught the first guard by surprise, bashing his kneecaps, while Perry launched himself at the second. Mac sent his elbow flying into the face of the third, and Tuck continued to wrestle with the leader.
I dropped to the ground. It was chaos—limbs flying, shouts echoing through the night, and the screech of metal against metal as the guards unsheathed their swords. Fists and knees were one thing, but they didn’t stand a chance against weapons.
“Stop!” I called, and at the same time, I pushed the thought into each of their heads. Two of the guards fumbled their weapons, while Tuck’s guard was too busy fending off a choke hold to do much. But the fourth—
The cliché about time moving in slow motion isn’t a cliché for no reason. I’d lived for thousands of years, but that moment was the first time I’d experienced it firsthand. Too stunned to react, I watched in horror as the sword sliced through Perry’s stomach, blossoming from his back. As the guard yanked it out, everyone went still, and Perry looked down at his torso.