Amalthea's Arc

Chapter 9 of 9

For three days they crossed the fen on the black-furred mount. Its tusked snout parted the mist, and the armored hound trotted at its side. Each night Amalthea practiced her light. She pricked her thumb, and gold bloomed above her palm. By the fourth day she could hold the glow steady without flinching. Corvus watched her from the saddle. "You learn fast," he said. She smiled and let the light swell. She did not think about what else might be watching. The fourth night they made camp among dead trees. Amalthea kept a small light burning while Corvus fed the mount. Then a rustling came from the black water. Not wind. Something moved through the reeds, slow and heavy. The armored hound sprang up and growled. Amalthea's light flickered. "It followed the glow," Corvus said, rising. "Your blood-light called to it." She killed the light at once. The dark rushed in. The rustling stopped, then started again, closer. Whatever stalked them did not need her light now. It knew where they were. The mount stamped and bared its tusks. Corvus pulled off his glove, dark veins climbing his hand. "Get behind me," he said. A shape rose from the reeds. Wings spread wide, black feathers tipped with gold. A woman stepped onto the white stones. Her skin was dark, her braids coiled high, her gown black and gold like something from an old tomb. She was Fae, like Amalthea, but older and colder. She fixed her eyes on the spot where the light had been. "Your blood sings across the whole fen," the winged woman said. "I am Neferi. I keep this path. Nothing crosses without my leave." Amalthea stepped past Corvus before he could stop her. Fear told her to hide the light. Instinct told her the opposite. She cut her thumb and lifted her hand. The gold bloomed, brighter than before. She did not shrink from Neferi. She met her. "I called you by mistake," Amalthea said. Neferi's dark eyes narrowed. She studied the glow, then the horns on Amalthea's head, then Corvus at her back. Slowly her wings folded. "So you are part fae and part horned creature," she said. "I only knew of one who loved a horned creature he called himself a king, she was my friend before she left our kind." She raised one long finger toward a break in the trees. "The seer waits past the drowned grove." The winged woman stepped back into the mist and was gone. Amalthea's hand shook, but the light held. She had turned the thing that hunted her into a guide. Corvus touched her shoulder. "You did not hide," he said. She looked at the path ahead, and the price waiting on it, and did not lower her light. Amalthea had never met any of her mother’s kind before tonight.