Dawn Carver (3)

16

Freya

A familiar sense of adrenaline pulses through my veins as we sneak through the shrub. The winter has thinned out the vegetation, giving a severe lack of cover. But Lei keeps her distance anyway, never getting close enough that the small lantern moving through the trees grows larger than a bulb.

I follow her lead.

The farther we travel from the village the tighter my chest feels. There's an innate sense of panic, of protection of the cave and the Lumin bugs. The idea of Hanna finding that place, speaking to them, sets me on edge and I can't understand why.

There are some things only Kinjri can understand, Alaric had told me when I'd asked why he'd waited for Lei to leave to show me that place.

I shake the thought from my head. The early hours of the morning are bitterly cold, undisturbed as the night hands over to day.

Finally, the light stops moving. Lei pauses several seconds, as if waiting for it to start again. When it doesn't, she indicates with two fingers to follow after her. I do so, mimicking every step that she takes for fear of blowing our cover with one crunch of a leaf or crush of a stick.

We keep our distance, far enough that I can't hear their conversation. If we're too close, they'll hear us. I know that. And yet the frustration of my regular senses doesn't escape me. But Lei leans in closer, narrowing her eyes as if it will heighten her sense of hearing.

"Can you hear?" I whisper. She nods, eyebrows furrowing. "What're they talking about?"

She holds up a hand, urges me to wait. I roll impatiently onto my heels, wrapping my coat tighter around me and glancing over my shoulder. The thrill of sneaking through the dark has worn off, overshadowed by the bitter cold.

Lei nudges me to get my attention. "I can only just hear them. I'm going to get a little closer. Watch my back." Before I can open my mouth in protest, she cuts me off. "No offense, but they'll hear you if you move any closer."

I shut my mouth as she slinks forward into the dark. I hate that she's right, that no matter how hard I try, I will never move with the same grace and silence as her. It's more than just her species; it's her upbringing. Before my father died, my life was incredibly sheltered. I never had to worry about how to move through the forest quietly.

The forest settles around me as the lantern bobs in the distance. Lei is nowhere to be seen, but I imagine her anyway, slinking through the trees like a shadow.

Snap.

Darting my head over my shoulder to the direction of the sound, my heart picks up. The trees stand stoic, guarding where I perch. In the distance, an owl calls through the night. I lean my back against the trunk of a tree, its presence comforting, before turning back around.

Within seconds, a hand closes down on my shoulder. I bite down my squeal of surprise, freezing instead as my captor forces me to turn.

My guard, Harris, stares down at me with disapproving eyes.

"Spying, are we?"

I clench my teeth. "I was going for a walk."

"In the middle of the night?"

I glance at the ground as, in the distance, the lantern grows closer. His disapproving stare is eerily familiar; it's an active effort to fight my natural reaction to cower.

"What's going on?"

I force myself to look up, meeting the gaze of Hana watching me suspiciously. She holds the lantern up, the glow warming her face. Alaric stands an inch behind.