It was a Barghest, dripping drool from broad, half-open jaws as it followed a scent about ten feet from where Avalon was hiding in her tree. She tore her gaze from the creature, her heart pounding in her chest as she began untying the knot in the rope. The ground was no safer place than up here in the trees, but if that thing managed to sniff her out, she had to be prepared to escape as quickly as possible.
As Avalon’s trembling fingers worked at the knot, the forest fell silent. The drowsy chirping of waking birds vanished. Even the wind didn’t dare make a sound.
She scanned the trees for any sign of the creature—a flick of a long, whip-like tail, a gleam of eyes black as pitch. It had vanished, but she could still smell the stink of it in the air, buried as it was by the rot of loam and the sweetness of tree sap.
She had to get out of here. If being princess had taught her anything, it was what skills and weaknesses her father’s demon army possessed. And these hyena-like monstrosities…they could climb. They also had a better sense of smell than the wolves of the north.
Easing into a crouch on the branch, her legs tingling as blood rushed back into them, she carefully freed the dagger from its sheath strapped to her waist. As silently as humanly possible, she shimmied down the tree, branch by branch. Thanks to the blade in her hand, the descent was quite trickier than it would have been without it, but she wouldn’t be caught weaponless with that thing hunting her.
The toe of her boot had just touched the ground when shouting floated through the trees to the west. More shouting answered—from the east this time. They spoke the tongue of shadow. Avalon understood nothing that was said except one snarled word: Barghest. They were looking for their hound.
About two dozen feet away, the Dark Elf that Avalon presumed was the Barghest’s master was hacking with a broad blade at a thick tree branch, cutting it clean in half as he angrily called again for the Barghest to return to him. His gravelly voice ripped through the woods.
Suddenly, the Elf’s bulging head whipped toward her, his broad triangular nostrils flaring.
Avalon dropped to her hands and knees and held her breath.
Had she been spotted?
Easing down until she lay flat on her stomach, she began wiggling her way to the cover of the brambles nearby, her hand trembling on her dagger. Her heart had never thrummed so fast. She could feel her veins pulsing in her neck; she could hear each throb in her ears like the beating of a drum.
The shouting continued to float above the trees. They were getting closer. She moved faster, daring to lift herself higher off the leaf-covered ground as she crawled—
A puff of hot air wafted across the back of her neck. Avalon froze.
Something wet dripped into her hair. Dribbled down the neckline of her tunic.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of the trees, casting the Barghest’s great shadow over her as it crept up behind her, hackles raised.
The shouting grew closer. The rancid breaths quickened, and a guttural snarl rippled down her spine. The thing was salivating, soaking her tunic as it loomed over her.
If the Dark Elves found her, she was as good as dead. Weeks ago, had this happened, she wouldn’t have stood a chance at escaping. But now, after having faced Silver Maidens, Skorpios, and a giant octopus…
Gripping the dagger tightly, she flipped onto her back and drove the blade into the Barghest’s skull. Metal rasped against bone. The creature howled in pain, alerting the Elves of its precise location. Avalon gritted her teeth, eardrums throbbing as the creature screamed. Its eyes went blank with death, and it collapsed on top of Avalon, crushing the air from her lungs.
The shouting grew louder, fiercer. Shrubs rustled, and branches snapped as they ran. They were coming—
Avalon pushed the Barghest off her, her arms barking in protest. She was on her feet just as the Elves burst through the shrubs. She took off running, her breaths scorching her throat. No footsteps drew closer—in fact, it was oddly quiet, aside from the groan of a bowstring.
She had half a second to regret fleeing in a straight line before the arrow pierced the flesh behind her shoulder blade.
Her breath hitched in her throat. Pain tore like lightning through her muscles, and her vision turned white. Hadrian’s face flashed through her mind the moment her body hit the forest floor.
~
The foliage of the Iron Forest was so dense that Hadrian nearly lost his bearings. The sun was steadily rising when he finally got back on track, and he cursed himself for leaving Avalon for so long. He hadn’t succeeded in catching anything for their breakfast, though he’d found a raspberry bush bursting with fruit. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do until they reached the Elven House, when they could have a proper meal.
Hopefully the family that lived there would invite them in, Hadrian thought. Though he had to admit, the odds of that happening were slim. There were rumors of a rebel movement within the House’s walls, and if that were true, the Elves who lived there wouldn’t jump at the chance to trust someone with such close connections to the king—least of all his own daughter and the Captain of the Guard. It would take a lot of convincing; of this, Hadrian was certain.
He recognized the familiar bend of a river and knew it was only minutes now before he would be back. He was eager to see Avalon again, to hold her in his arms.
As he stepped over a fallen tree, he heard voices.
Dark Elves, speaking the shadow tongue.
He broke into a sprint, his heart pounding in his chest. If something happened to Avalon while he was away, getting lost in the forest like an imbecile, he would never forgive himself.
Brambles snagged his clothing and hair as he ran, tearing blindly yet as quietly as possible through the trees. Just as he reached the source of the shadow speech, he slowed to a stop and crouched behind a wall of shrubs.
