Nada's Escape: Fighters' lies

20.3 Beast

"It's sunset," Finley blinks, pulling me back to the present. "We should probably go."

I have the disconcerting feeling that time has passed me by. I pull my hands back from retying the council wristband around a glistening drop of glue.

"You're right, we should go," I gulp, distracting myself from the broken oath by worrying about Percival's surprise instead.

Finley hurries and I meet his pace, rushing by more little houses towards the centre of Norgara.

A beat-up caravan sits before the columned entry to the Academy. Two wardens fling open the back doors of the caravan in a waterfall of red dust as we walk by. A shadow moves within the depths of the caravan. Beyond, a small crowd of Huntsmen and women gathers, more than those at the ceremony earlier today. I spot Macie on the steps of the portico, giving me a wave over the heads of the Huntsmen.

I ghost around the outside of the assembled crowd until I can see Percival standing at the top of the steps. Behind him the laconic teen -Abby's new sponsor- starts to beat upon a waist high drum, made of a single stretched skin. It's more than sound, it's a vibration rumbling through every part of my body. As the tempo increases I start to feel it compete with my heart, pulsing blood into my temples.

"A celebratory hunt to commemorate your special day." Percival proclaims into the vibrating silence, before turning to cough into a handkerchief. He points to me with liver-spotted hands turned bloody in the dying light. "Nada, as the chosen, you may take the first shot."

I retreat a few steps as the Huntsmen turn to watch me, their eyes drawn to my wrist. They've heard about the symbol. They want to see it for themselves. Mildrith's face stands out to me, a question in her eyes. I really don't want to be a part of this.

"Just this once," Finley breaths at my ear. He pushes me forward and I reluctantly mount the steps, walking across the portico to Percival and the girls.

I stare aghast at the sleek black shape in his hand. A gun. The Huntsmen are scary enough with fists, I can't imagine seeing a force of them bristling with ammunition. I also hadn't seen any guns in the armoury.

As if responding to my confusion Darcell's voice quietly explains: "They're not sacred weapons of ours. Mostly because the high fey have learned to stall them, so guns are useless against them."

Keeping my cool, despite Darcell's appearance from nowhere, I turn to see him sidling out of the great hall of the Academy.

"Besides, beasts without blood aren't much bothered by bullets. But we can find an occasion for every weapon, even the handgun."

I take the gun from Percival in cupped hands, surprised at the weight. Amy catches my eye, flicking her eyes from the gun to Percival. Catching her joke, I fight off a smile even in the seriousness of the moment.

"Release!" cries Percival. The drumming begins again and I fight off a shake in my hands, turning the gun gingerly in my fingers. The Huntsmen melt away from in front of me, pulling out their own weapons, and I watch the opening of the caravan with trepidation.

A giant carpet of moss lopes from the doors. It rears onto its back legs like a bear, ripping a muzzle from its face. It roars to the sky, but I can barely hear it over the blood-pounding drum. I can't do this. I don't know how to do this. I panic. And why the hell is it green?

"Raise it in front of you, steady with your left." Darcell instructs and I suddenly feel him beside me, hand on my elbow.

"Pull off safety here, like this," He says and I carefully scrape the switch, fighting my shakes.