Raven Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 4 of 11

The fire had dried Raven's clothes by the time the sound started. A low scrape dragged along the outer wall. Then a heavy step crunched the frozen yard. Raven stood. Sylvara, the tracker who had pulled her off the ice road, was already on her feet. She held up one hand for silence. "That's it," Sylvara whispered. "Three days I tracked a thing down from the north ridge. Four miles, and it never once stopped to eat." She drew a long sword from beside the hearth. Runes glowed faint blue down the blade. "It followed me home." The scraping circled the house. It passed the round window, and Raven glimpsed a shape through the glass. Tall. Too tall. Blue light burned where its eyes should be. Ragged cloth hung from its frame. It dragged one clawed hand along the wood as it moved. "We go out, it tears us apart in that storm," Sylvara said. "We wait, it breaks the door." Her voice stayed flat. "I don't like either." Raven looked at her dead lantern, then at her bow leaning by the fire. The thing outside wanted in. Waiting only let it choose the moment. "It can't see well in the dark," she said. "The storm hides us both. But I can shoot what glows." Sylvara studied her. "You'd face it in the open." "I'd face it where I can move." Raven strung the bow and nocked an arrow. Sylvara pulled the round door open. Wind and rain poured in. The creature spun toward the light, mouth full of animal teeth. Its blue eyes fixed on them and it charged. "Left," Sylvara said, and broke right. Raven rolled into the muddy flowers. The beast swung for Sylvara. Its claws raked her arm and she grunted, but her glowing blade bit deep into its side. It shrieked and reeled back. That turn gave Raven her shot. She drew to her cheek and loosed. The arrow buried itself in one burning eye. The creature staggered. Sylvara stepped in and drove the sword through its chest. It dropped into the pale flowers and went still. The blue light in its eyes died out. Rain hammered them both. Sylvara pressed a hand to her torn arm. Blood ran dark between her fingers. "Good shot," she said. She looked down at the dead thing. "But this came from the north ridge. The pass you want to climb." Raven lowered the bow. "You think there are more." "A thing like this doesn't hunt alone." Sylvara wiped her blade clean. "The safe path I promised runs right through its ground." She turned toward the warm glow of the open door. "We'll need more than a bow and a sword before we climb." Raven stared up at the dark ridge. The storm had not beaten her. But the way to the tome now ran through a hunting ground, and she could not walk it unarmed.