Chapter 15
The laughter is high-pitched, borderline hysterical, but still soyoung. It grows into a cacophonous storm around us, enough that I need to read Mare’s lips to understand what he’s saying.
I saw them.
Them. There are multiple.
I drag Mare behind me, but what’s the use? The sound comes from all around. I reach for the princess, but my hand doesn’t land on her arm. She moves away with impossibly fast reflexes, falling into a defensive stance. Her feline eyes take in the landscape, but no amount of training will help her see what Mare sees.
If I’m right, that is.
“Princess, back down and get behind Mare,” I shout. The laughter comes in waves, and my voice breaks through right when it dwindles.
“I don’t need your protection,” she responds, and I notice the way the tension in her body shifts. She’s going into offensive mode, like a coiled serpent ready to strike. Except this isn’t something we can fight.
“This isn’t for you,” I say, timing my words so she hears. “We need to cover him.”
That triggers something in her, and, for once, she does what I say. She runs to Mare’s exposed side, covering his back as he burrows into my arms.
“I saw them,” he repeats. “I looked them straight in the eyes. I’m sorry, Rei.”
“Did they touch you?” I shout, but the laughter drowns me out. “Mare, did they touch you?” I scream until my throat feels raw. Fear pulses through me like a blaring signal, going off every second, louder than my beating heart. This can’t be happening, not to Mare. Please, not to Mare.
It’s only when he shakes his headnothat I can think clearly enough to plan. We have hope, as small as it is.
“On three, Mare, jump on my back, and princess, run to the valley. We need to get closer to town,” I say. My right hand finds the princess’s. While she jumps at the initial touch, she stays still enough to let me squeeze her hand in reassurance.
“I’m not injured. I can fight,” the princess says.
How do I begin to explainthisto her, that the Andes are a mystical place? That here, in the mountains I grew up in, people are no strangers to magical creatures. Some you can fight, some you can outwit, but some you can only hope to outrun. The laughter gets impossibly closer. I can’t see them, but their presence is clear.
What can I possibly say to get the princess to understand?
“I know you can,” I shout. “But not this time. This time I need you to trust me.”
Silence follows like a stalking puma. I hold my breath, closing my eyes on instinct as if I should fear catching a glimpse of them too. Then, tentative and shaking, the princess’s hand slips into mine and squeezes.
My eyes widen. I turn to her, but she’s looking down at the valley, taking in the terrain and figuring out a path ahead. Her hand slips out of mine like a passing thought.
I don’t have time to think about how untrue that comparison is, about how the leftover cold of her grip chilled me to my core, or how the imprint of her palm against mine overwhelmed all my senses. I shake my head and begin to count down.
“One. Two. Three,” I scream.
Mare jumps, and the princess bolts, never once looking back.Good girl, I think as I dash between trees and dry brush. I needed her to run down first so I could follow in her footsteps. It’s like she read my mind. I see her take the fastest yet simplest way down, accounting for the extra weight of Mare on my back. She’s a sight to behold with her white hair like a flash of lightning and her brown skin like a cutting shadow.
The laughter stops once we’re halfway down the mountain, but she continues as I would. It’s not until we’re at the base of the valley that she stops and falls to the floor. I’m right behind her, crashing onto my knees and leveraging my body to not crush Mare beneath my weight. I’m exhausted, but I wasn’t the one to use all my samay only a day prior.
As Mare untangles himself from my arms, I focus on listening. The princess’s heavy breathing. Mare’s suppressed crying. My own panting.
No laughter.
I get two minutes of reprieve, of complete relief, before the princess is dragging herself to my side. She brushes her sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes. She’s pallid. Her lips are gray, and her eyes are unfocused. Normally, she’d be strong enough to run this five times over, but the altitude and mimicry are a deadly combination.
“What,” she huffs. “Was.” A wheeze. “That?”
I’m breathing too hard to answer. Not that I have a clear response. There’s only one person who can confirm what we ran from, and he’s rubbing his eyes dry from tears. I draw Mare into my side and squeeze him into a hug. The princess’s intensity dies down, but only a little. There’s still fire behind her eyes, a fire I recognize intimately.
She wants the fight she didn’t get.
