Bounty Hunter (The Black Tulip Chronicles #1)

35. Ikar

Chapter 35

Ikar

T he man they called a traitor, Jyson, sprints ahead and mid-air shifts into his bantha form. Completely ignoring both myself and the fae, he runs ahead and disappears into the shadows. Eager to earn his way back into shift society, I suppose. I have no other form to shift into, no magic to use, so I begin to run at a slow jog, observing my surroundings and gaining my bearings. I watch the fae disappear ahead with a look over his shoulder and force myself to stay calm. I’ve worked with the best of the best when it comes to trackers, and I know what to look for.

I keep a steady pace and watch carefully, redirecting my course to keep the trail of the bear. But even with my extensive training, I know my chances aren’t good. No weapons, no magic, and an armored bear to kill and somehow return to the Silas without the benefit of the extra strength my magic gives me. And, to top it all off, I have to be first. I hear Rhosse’s rough voice in my head telling me to focus, and a grim smile crosses my lips. I hope he and Darvy made it.

I’m left in the quiet darkness of the forest. Birds begin to chirp, and the gentle rustle of bushes indicates small animals are once again active and no longer scared. I calm the stress rising inside me. The only way I can win this is with focus and wit, and I remind myself that fastest isn’t always best during a hunt. I watch for anything I can form a weapon from, snagging a branch that feels solid enough and has somewhat of a broken point on the end. Though it’s not much, and will probably snap in half on my first strike, having something in my hands helps ease the ache for my enchanted sword. I’d take even my smallest knife at this point.

I slow as I hear the unmistakable screech of the bantha shifter ahead and some distance to my right. It sounds as if a battle has already begun, and the hunt only started an hour ago. I curse beneath my breath. Warily, I move forward, and within several minutes, I’m crouching behind a tight bunch of large bushes, watching the scene unfold before me.

Jyson strikes at the bear, coming from above, slamming a venomous claw into its plated shoulder. It seems like a logical way to defeat it, and I warily wait for the bear to begin to stumble from the poison of his claw. But it doesn’t. Jyson underestimates its swift reaction. With a lightning-quick swipe, the stocky bear’s paw connects with his leathery bat-like wing, and I inwardly wince at the gruesome tearing sound. Jyson drops to the ground with a shriek and a sickening thud as he struggles to gain his balance with an unusable wing and missing claw. But the bear doesn’t hesitate, barreling toward the downed bantha and ramming its horns into the weakened shifter’s underbelly. In moments, Jyson is dead.

I could jump out right now with my stick and charge the bear, but that ensures a speedy death, if the bantha’s fight was any indication. I eye the stick in my hand with disgust. As I deliberate over whether I should attack or go in search of a better weapon, a flash of color catches my eye and comes soaring out of the forest from my right, careening into the bear’s side. The force of the hit slams the bear violently into a nearby tree, and I hear the crack of wood along the hefty trunk. While the bear struggles to gain its balance, the fae grips the edge of an armored plate and climbs astride. No one can say these criminals aren’t brave.

With an ear-shattering roar, the armored bear regains its feet and recovers from its temporary stun. Enzyr quickly throws his arms around the bear’s neck and tightens his grip with all of his fae strength. I’ve seen fae crush human bones in their fist, and it seems as if the fae’s approach may get him the win. I’m about to jump up to battle the fae for the bear’s last breath. I stand as it struggles, weaving and stumbling from side to side. One moment. Two. Three. I begin to make my way forward when it lurches to the side and slams its body against a tree, its neck connecting against solid wood. I don’t want to consider whether the snap I heard was wood again or the fae’s arm, but I see the panic on the fae’s face as his arm is rendered useless. I step back and crouch down a bit since it appears the fae isn’t giving up yet. He grabs the same plate of armor and holds on, attempting to get a better position to squeeze the life from the animal with just one arm, but in the next moment the armored bear effortlessly tosses the fae from its back, then charges with teeth bared. I look away, and when I look back, Enzyr is dead, too.

Just the bear and me now. In minutes, it has killed the other two competitors. No wonder Silas has difficulty coming up with competitors when he spends them like a reckless gambler at a game of cards.

The armored bear’s sides heave, the plate the fae used is lifted and loose, and a bantha claw sticks out of another piece of its armor awkwardly. But it otherwise appears unharmed, as if it wasn’t just attacked by two worthy enemies. The bear sniffs at the carcasses at its feet before it lifts its nose and sniffs the air. I wait, worried it’ll sniff me out when I have no sound plan, but finally, it turns and lumbers off deeper into the forest.

After witnessing the gruesome destruction of the shifter and fae, I take a second look at my crude spear and slam the end of it into the ground in frustration, surprised that alone doesn’t break it in half. Practicality, reality, whatever you want to call it seems to shout that all is lost. Vera, my magic, my life, my kingdom. As I sit here, cuffed as a common criminal, my kingdom continues its slow march toward death. There’s a good chance my closest friends are dead, and I’m further from a solution to restoring magic than I was before I started this journey. I’ve been so busy keeping Vera and I alive the past few days that it was easy to push away the thoughts that failure was my destiny. But here, I’m reminded of all of it. It seems as if whispers of demons fill my ears. Unworthy. Weak. Failure. Murderer. I almost expect to feel the burn furthering its blackening journey across my mark. Magic’s tangible reminder that I am failing. It doesn’t come, but it will. It always does.

I grip my spear tighter. I may not be able to save the kingdom before it’s consumed with gloam, but I can do my best to save Vera from mating with the insane shifter. I haven’t failed until I die, and I don’t plan on doing so today. I box the disaster of my life up and shove it in a corner of my mind, quieting my thoughts. I stalk from my place of cover, standing amidst the carnage as I consider my next move. I have no doubt I can track the beast, but I know before I do, I need a plan.

The fae, attempting brute force, failed. The bantha shifter, attempting to poison through armor, failed. I eye the stick in my hand, then the bantha claws still attached to Jyson’s large paws. I recall the weakened armor and quickly get to work.

A short time later, I finish securing three claws to the tip of my spear, if you can call it that. I twist it back and forth, examining my work and frown. Rather than looking like a deadly weapon it resembles a crudely built, three-pronged garden rake. It will have to do. If Darvy saw me now, he’d be rolling with laughter. I grin sadly.

I take a moment to find the trail and set off with my poison rake in hand. It doesn’t take long before I come upon the bear near a creek, sniffing out berries. I wonder if the red around its mouth is berries or blood from the dead fae. I eye the loose armor plate and readjust my rake. The bear lifts its head and sniffs, searching. I remain crouched, taking slow, silent breaths. My chances of success drop significantly if it charges me. I notice as the bear wanders closer that a few of the armor plates have been damaged, I assume due to other violent battles. This one is a seasoned fighter.

I wait as it wanders closer, mere feet from my position, before I launch myself forward, and my fingers clamber for the jagged edges of the imperfect plates to pull myself atop its back. I feel as the bear begins to react, raising up on its hind legs to attempt to toss me from its back. A flashback of the bear slamming Enzyr against the tree briefly flits through my mind. I hurriedly grab the loose armor and thrust my poison rake claws into the soft, vulnerable tissue beneath before it can do something similar to me. The bear roars again, shakes its heavy, armored coat, and swipes back with an enormous paw. Its claws catch my armor, and it easily throws me through the air. I land with a bruising thud several feet away, flat on my back.

My breath won’t come, but the bear is. I’m like a gasping fish as I try to call back necessary breath. Dread pools when I realize that the bantha poison, my stick spear, wasn’t enough. My worst fears come to pass. Failure. Dead before I can help my people. Vera stuck with Silas. I hope with my last thought that the magic goddess, Lucentia, will have mercy on my people with my death. That a new, more worthy king than I will be chosen to save them.

Already on its hind legs, I watch as it rises above me, its shadow covers my body, and I prepare myself mentally for its death blow. Its roar sounds muffled to my ears mixed with ringing and spots in my vision. It lifts a clawed paw and swings toward me as it falls and lands in a dusty heap beside me, a heavy, lifeless arm falls over my torso.

I lay there in silent disbelief, sucking in lungfuls of air. I stare at the gaping mouth inches from my face until I can breathe again. Then I pull myself from beneath its weight, lifting its massive arm off my torso and wincing at the pain in my back. It seems my already shredded armor couldn’t protect me fully this time, but there’s no time to worry about it. At this point, I hardly feel it as it’s masked by amazement that the bear lies dead beside me. Maybe Lucentia can use me yet, a light sense of hope accompanies the thought.

Next step, bring the bear back. This has to be some sort of joke for Silas. I eye the bear. If I could pull magic, maybe I could haul it back, but that day is not this day. It has to be hundreds of pounds, maybe thousands, much heavier than me. My gaze catches on the mouthful of teeth again. Silas seems to like jokes. We’ll see if he can take a joke as well as he can play one. I hope what I’m about to do is enough.

Awhile later, I haul my aching body from the forest, forcing my back tall and my shoulders straight as I once again enter the open space before the platform. The sun is setting now, and the smooth walls of the arena reflect its orange glow, as though everything is on fire. Before anything else, I search out Vera, and though her mouth is no longer tied, I find her still bound and tied to the king’s throne. She no longer stands, but kneels. Hot anger bunches in my muscles at their treatment of her, but I won. Soon. Soon this will be done.

My eyes then shift to Silas, but as soon as he spots me, he raises his brows, and I know he questions my return without the prize. I stalk forward until I’m at the edge of the platform. I know I’m taking a very big gamble, and I can only hope it’ll work in my favor.

“A tooth for your necklace, shift king .” I can’t help the emphasis on his self-proclaimed title as I place the bear’s tooth on the platform in front of him.

The lion considers the tooth with a growing grin on his face. Another shifter quickly scoops the tooth up and drops it in the king’s hand, where Silas tosses it up in the air and catches it again in a practiced way.

“You return without the prize, trespasser.”

“You didn’t specify how much of the prize was to be returned.” I shrug nonchalantly.

Vera’s eyes are wide with fear and concern, but I resist looking at her. I don’t want to fuel Silas any further.

The spectators watch the two of us in near silence. The guards around us seem wary, and I don’t blame them. Silas is unpredictable. Even now, instead of anger, I see his considering eyes gleam with something that looks like glee.

He looks closely at the tooth for a moment, then tosses it back to me. “You have earned your own freedom. Not that of your lady. It’s a generous offer when all you’ve returned with is a single tooth.” His smile turns to a smug sneer, and he runs his tongue across his elongated canines as he looks down at Vera.

My chest tightens with rage. If my magic was uncuffed, there would be a severe amount of damage. This entire thing is fraudulent, and I can stand here and do nothing but fist my hands. Vera’s gray eyes are wide, shocked, panicked. A light breeze blows strands of hair across her face, and I’m taken aback how even clothed as she is in a dress of animal heads and horrific ruffles, she’s achingly beautiful. I swallow hard.

A gate to my left is pulled open by three shifter guards.

“Leave, or I’ll kill her,” Silas commands, as he holds a gleaming knife to Vera’s throat.

I shove the tooth in my pocket and glance once more at Vera, then stalk out of the arena without looking back as guilt churns in my gut. Failure.