Page 34 of Winter's Echo
The snow was ruined. What had been clean, untouched white was now churned into a mess of red and gray, trampled flat by boots and bodies and something far heavier.
One of the creatures lay twisted near me, its bulk half sunk into the drift. Even dead, it didn’t look still. The fur shifted with the wind, giving the illusion of breath.
I didn’t look at its face. I’d seen enough death to know what waited there.
The other lay farther out, closer to where the soldiers had first formed their line. Its fall had crushed something beneath it, and I couldn’t tell if it had been one man or two.
It didn’t really matter. Dead was dead.
I walked the horses forward slightly. If there were injured men, they’d need the wagon to carry them.
“Two down,” someone said as I got closer. “Shades…”
“Check the wounded,” Marson snapped. “Move!”
He’d recovered from the fight fast, which was good, as it would keep more of them alive.
I stepped forward, pulling one of the horses with me, letting them see I was there and that I had brought the wagons to them. I moved along the edge of the fight, careful with my footing, eyes scanning — not the bodies, not the blood — but the ground. Noting the marks and the way the snow had broken.
As I inched closer to the part of the land where they had come from, I peered at the tracks on the ground, noting where they had moved and where they hadn’t. I looked into the hollowed-out cavern beneath the ground, seeing bones and what looked like shed fur. The smell was strong, almost overpowering. I sat back as I considered it. Could we take shelter there?
I looked up at the sky. There was no cover. They relied on their bulk and the fallen snow to cover them. There would be no shelter here.
Behind me, the soldiers worked quickly, dragging the injured back, pressing cloth to wounds that wouldn’t close fast enough in this cold.
Larana stood apart from them. I watched as she wiped her blade clean with a strip of cloth, her movements efficient and unbothered. No shaking hands. No wasted breath. As if the skirmish with monsters had been nothing. As if she hadn’t just seen monsters from children’s tales erupt from the ground.
Baxley was already moving again, checking the line, the men, and the wagons’ positions. He didn’t linger over the dead. He’d already moved on from the fight and was in recovery mode, assessing the damage. His eyes flicked to mine once, and I saw his head dip, but I was still in shock at the sight of him atop the Hulgrim, sword in hand, ready to deliver the death blow. I didn’t respond.
I knew I’d see him in my nightmares, standing between the shoulders of the Hulgrim, for years to come.
Nicco stood near the creature he’d killed, close enough that if it wasn’t dead, it could have taken his head clean off. He didn’t touch or prod it. He just stood there, looking down at it, studying it.
I moved closer to him without meaning to, but something about the way he was looking at it made me want to find out what it was.
He looked up at me as I approached, flashed me that smug smirk, then turned away and moved over to where Baxley was, and I never got the chance to ask.
“Amarya.” The captain’s voice cut through my thoughts. I turned toward him. “We’ve lost two,” he said, jaw tight. “Four injured. Two won’t make it if we don’t get them under cover.”
I nodded once. Survival.ThatI understood. It would take us off course, but it was better than losing four.
“We can go back. The tree line over there dips,” I said, gesturing. “There’s better cover. You’re going to need it.” I pointed to the dead Hulgrim. “The scent of their blood is in the air. It’ll attract every predator and meat eater for miles.You don’t want that fight, not when it’s not your dinner you’re fighting for.”
The captain didn’t question it. “Move them onto the wagons,” he ordered his men. “You any good with bandages?” He came to stand beside me.
“Wouldn’t call myself a healer,” I admitted, “but I can stop bleeding.”
“Might need your help then,” Captain Marson told me, before he was moving again, checking his men.
I turned back toward the trees, already adjusting my route in my head. But as I stepped forward, I felt eyes on me. That pull from last night. I looked over my shoulder. Nicco hadn’t moved from Baxley’s side, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything his companion said.
He was looking at me. He didn’t seem curious or angry that I hadn’t fought. It was more like he’d expected me to run to the back, and he was pleased I had. My grip tightened slightly at my side. I held his gaze a moment longer than I should have, then turned away.
“Let’s move,” I called, sharper than before. “We’re not staying here. Not unless you want to fight the scavengers.”
I didn’t look at the three mercenaries again.
Whoever those three were, they weren’t the part of this journey that scared me.
