Bound (Bound Trilogy) (17 page)

A pale gray mare trotted over and bared her teeth at my new friend, revealing long, sharp canines. She gave a friendly nip, then returned to the herd.

We were adjusting the bridles when a brain-piercing scream ripped through the cold air from behind us. Somewhere near the house a dog added its howls to the racket.

Aren cursed. “Hurry. We need to go.”

What seemed to be a white stallion emerged from the trees below us and stopped at the top of the hill. It didn’t sound like any horse I’d ever heard, though, and when I risked another look back I saw the long teeth that curved up from either side of its mouth. Its eyes burned like hot coals, and the ground shuddered when it stamped a hoof.

“Rowan, go.”

There was nowhere to mount, and the horse was too tall for me to climb. I settled for taking the reins in hand and running. The mare seemed eager to escape, too, and tried to pull ahead. Aren and his mount kept pace beside us.

“What
is
that?” I yelled.

“Tusker,” he called back. “Nasty beasts, used for breeding these horses every ten generations or so. Didn’t think anyone was crazy enough to keep one loose with their mares.”

We kept running, but the tusker was too close. He’d catch up when we stopped to open the gate, and I doubted he’d be content to just take back his mares.

I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye as Aren leaped and pulled himself up by his horse’s mane. They sped ahead.
You bastard
, I thought, and in a moment of panic I almost let go of my own horse and ran for the closest fence in hopes of diving under it. When I looked ahead again, Aren had reached the gate. I expected him to try to jump it, but he swung down to the ground and started working at the lock, giving it a hard smack and hauling back on it until it popped open, sending sparks flying into the air. He hurried his horse through, and waited.

The tusker’s hoofs pounded the grassy earth behind me, gaining with every step. I pushed my legs to move faster than they’d ever had to before, ignoring the pain that burned in every muscle and shot up from my ankle.

We made it through the gate and Aren slammed it closed behind my horse’s tail, then reached through to snap the lock shut moments before the tusker slammed into the fence, bucking and shrieking. Aren yelled, and the tusker’s head snapped back as though it had been slapped, long white mane flying. It pawed at the ground and screamed, but didn’t hit the gate again.

Aren stepped back and examined his hand. The skin on his palm was red, burned and blistering.

“What happened?”

He grimaced. “I couldn’t get the lock open. I tried to use magic. At least it worked, right?”

We mounted our horses and raced back to pick up our things. The tusker continued his tantrum behind us as we rode off into the woods. My mare kept looking back, but settled when we were far enough away that she couldn’t hear him anymore.

We stopped beside a wide stream to catch our breaths and let the horses drink.

“There,” Aren said. “Wasn’t that easier than walking?” He was almost laughing. Unbelievable.

I took a few more gasping breaths. “You knew there were people following us back at the dragon path, you felt Severn coming after we left the boat, but you didn’t know about
that
?” I crouched by the water and splashed some on my head and face, letting it run down the back of my neck. If it had been summer, I might have jumped into the river clothes and all to wash the sweat and dirt away. I still felt guilty for stealing the horses, but at that moment I would happily have broken into someone’s house for a bar of soap.

Aren followed my example, and raked his wet hands through his hair. His expression and voice turned serious. “It’s not easy, you know. Just trying to be aware of human enemies takes concentration and energy. Focusing on everything else that might be out there is impossible. For me, anyway.” He shook his hands, sending droplets of water back into the river.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re doing a great—”

“We should keep moving.” His words were clipped, his voice tense. “There was no one home at that farm, but they’ll be out looking for us when they get back and find their monster upset.”

We rode upstream in the shallow water until a short run of rapids blocked our path, then finished our crossing. The sun had set, and we had to move slowly through the woods. Still, Aren was right. It was better than walking.

“Are we almost to the border?” I asked. “I think I’ve had enough adventure to last me the rest of my life.”

He didn’t answer.

#

Aren was quiet while he built the fire in a sheltered place beside a cliff in the forest. I was starting to feel lonely having no one to talk to, but what was there to say? At least he seemed to have let go of the idea that I’d healed him that night at Stone Ridge.

He’ll probably be glad to get rid of me
.

There wasn’t much food left, but it was probably too dark for Aren to change and go hunting. I hoped he’d do it again, though, that I’d see the eagle I knew as Aquila one more time before I left him. The whole situation was beyond strange, but fascinating when I thought about the magic instead of how he’d deceived me. In a way, I missed Aquila. He’d been good company.

Aren hardly ate anything, just sat watching the fire burn. I tried to leave some food for him to have later, but it was difficult. Excitement, exercise, and missing meals had made me ravenous.

“If I’d been human that day you found me, would you still have helped me?”

His voice startled me. “Yes.”

He rolled his dirty white shirt sleeves up to his elbows and leaned forward. “If you’d known who I was?”

“I don’t know. I would have been frightened of you.”

He didn’t speak as I put the rest of the food away, then asked, “Would you let me die now?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you saw me injured and dying again, knowing what you do now, what would you do?”

I didn’t understand what he was getting at. “If I saw you hurt like that again, I couldn’t leave you. I don’t know how I would help.”

“You still think I’m wrong about your magic, but you’d want to help me?” I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Not threatening, exactly, but he looked half-insane in the flickering firelight.

“Yes.”

“I believe you.” In one smooth motion he reached into his knapsack, produced a long, dark-bladed hunting knife, and plunged it into his left wrist. I screamed. He gasped, then pulled the knife through the flesh of his arm, twisting it near his elbow. The blade must have been sharper than any I’d ever come across before. It cut through muscle and tendons like they were liquid. Blood gushed from the wound.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted. Aren held his arm away from the blankets so that his blood poured onto the ground, burning on the fire-baked rocks.

“This is up to you,” he said, speaking calmly. “You probably have a few minutes, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t leave it for too long.”

“No.” My legs went weak, and I had to sit down and push with my feet to back away. “You’re crazy.”

“And I’m dead if you can’t manage a repeat performance. I…” He grimaced. “Gods, that hurts.”

I told myself that he was tricking me, that this was some kind of illusion, but as his eyes grew glassy and his breathing shallower it became harder to believe that. “You ass,” I whispered, and he tried to laugh.

“Rowan, I can’t—”

“Shut up.” I picked up the knife and used it to cut into a blanket so I could tear off a ragged strip. I dropped the knife and kicked the handle as I stepped back toward him, sending it spinning into the trees.

He looked at the fabric in my hands. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I said shut up!” The sight and smell of blood sickened me. Panicked tears made the world tremble, but I managed to start wrapping the cloth tight around the butchered arm to try to slow the bleeding.

Aren placed his other hand over mine, then unwrapped the bandage when I pulled away from his touch. “Don’t. You can do better than that.”

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes to stop the tears, then grabbed Aren’s injured arm in both hands and squeezed. He yelled.

“You deserved that,” I whispered, and forced myself to look at the gaping wound. It was a cleaner cut than the one the arrow had given him, but longer and deeper, and there was more blood. The flesh twitched at the edges, trying to come together, but it seemed that his magic wasn’t able to take care of such a severe wound.

My focus was drawn toward it, slowly. Suddenly I remembered every detail of the night I’d found Aquila in the woods.

The back of my head began to pound with a heavy and increasing pain. The flesh twitched again, but this time the muscle pressed together, starting near Aren’s elbow and closing down to his wrist. I wanted to close my eyes or to run away, but I didn’t.

I’m doing this.
A wave of joy washed over me at the realization, but pain burst from the back of my head, drowning it completely. I fought to stay conscious when white spots appeared in my vision. I needed to see what was going to happen.

The bleeding slowed, then stopped. I felt his magic responding, drawing mine deeper, accelerating the healing process. Seconds later, all that was left was a long, red scar twisting its way up his forearm.

Aren’s blood was everywhere, on the blankets and my hands and our clothes, but when I looked back at his face, he seemed relaxed. Almost happy.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I turned and crawled away from the fire and threw up my supper under a tree. Sharp pain hit between my eyes and my arms gave out, sending me crashing into the musty leaves.

I wanted nothing more than to faint as I had before, but it didn’t happen. I had to let Aren help me back to my bed. The light made everything hurt more. I turned away from the fire and pulled my knees toward my chest.

Aren pulled a blanket over me, and I pushed his hand away. “Leave me alone,” I whispered. He’d been right about the magic in me, but I wasn’t prepared to thank him for what he’d done.

“I’m sorry I had to do that. I didn’t think—”

“Just go.” His shadow moved away, and I was left shaking and trying to hold back tears that would only make the pain worse if I let them come.

Chapter Seventeen

Rowan

A
ren was nowhere to be seen when I woke the next morning—not that I spent much time looking. The previous night’s pain lingered, and the rust-colored stains on the rocks beside the burned-out fire were vivid reminders of what had caused it.

It seemed I had what I’d always dreamed of, but it was nothing like I’d expected. The healing had been beautiful, but the memory of the pain tarnished any sense of wonder I felt at it. I didn’t want to think about what any of this meant for my life back home. I just wanted to get away, and think about it all when my head was clearer.

I found Aren with the horses. He didn’t say anything, but at least had the decency to look concerned. I ignored him, still not ready to forgive. He packed up the campsite while I went out into the woods to strip a bit of sweet-smelling bark from a heartleaf tree. Taking too much would have caused permanent damage to the tree, but I thought about doing it. I’d need it later.

Your species is in trouble, my friend,
I thought as I tucked some bark into my pack, and reached up to rub my fingers over a sweet-smelling pink leaf.
You and me, both
.

Neither Aren nor I spoke as we rode away. That suited me at first, but after a while I began to wonder if he wasn’t speaking because he was angry with me for almost letting him die. Not that it would have been my fault, but he seemed to have strange ideas about these things. Finally I asked, “Are you mad?”

He snorted. “Angry, or crazy?”

Good question.
“I meant angry.”

“Then no, not at all. I have no reason to be. I just didn’t want to say anything until you were ready to talk.”

“I’m not.”

“All right, then.”

I knew he’d been trying to help, and he had. He’d showed me my magic. But the way he’d done it was horrible. What if he had been wrong about me, and he’d died? I leaned forward to rest my forehead against my mare’s strong neck. Her mane smelled like clovers.

That would be a good name
, I thought.
Clover
. Getting attached to animals seemed like a bad idea, but I couldn’t help it. She was the closest thing I had to a potential friend at that moment.

What followed might have been the most awkward hours of my life. At least, they were uncomfortable for me. The silence didn’t seem to bother Aren. He was either used to traveling alone, or to having people angry with him. He didn’t even speak when we stopped around midday and he wandered off behind a cluster of boulders, leaving me holding his horse’s reins with no explanation of what he was doing. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. A familiar avian shape appeared at the top of the tallest rock, feet scrambling to hold onto the steep surface. He gave up and glided toward me, then past me, and crashed into a patch of low scrub bushes. I laughed.

“Nice. Very graceful.”

He backed out on foot and shook his feathers out, and I dismounted. He looked toward the sky.

“You’re leaving?”

He shook his head.

“Hunting?”

His head bobbed up and down, and he shuffled closer, until he was almost standing on my boot. I sighed and sat on a rock. “Just because you look different, that doesn’t make it easier to forgive you.” Still, I couldn’t help reaching out to touch the soft, golden feathers on his head. He arched his neck under my hand.

I pulled back, and he shuffled away. “Nice try, though.”

He dipped his head toward the ground, then pushed off and climbed into the air until he was only a black dot against the blue sky.

I didn’t know what the plan was, but it seemed like there was enough time to let the horses rest. I gathered wood for a fire in case we were stopping, then watched the horses graze while I waited for Aren to come back. We’d have to talk when he changed back. I needed to make a decision.