I nearly lost my grip on the hatchet as she leaped forth.
Cold. A pulse of despair.
A tattered, frostbitten woman, head bowed.
She seemed fainter.
I touched the blood and ink still on the hatchet, and spread it across the blade, visualizing the effect I wanted.
Glamour filling the scratched-in inscription. Sinking in.
When I looked at June, she seemed less faint than she had.
Still faint, though. The animals seemed vaguely wary of her. They weren’t looking at her, but they were a little less eager to advance on me on the
“Remember the cabin, June?” I asked.
“So cold.”
“It is. Did you think about food, while you got the fire ready?” I asked.
“I’m hungry,” she whispered.
“A feast,” I said. “Are you dreaming of a feast?”
“I’m hungry,” she said, with the exact same inflection as before. “But there isn’t much food in the cupboards.”
“There isn’t much food in the cupboards because…” I prompted her. My eyes didn’t leave the animals.
“There isn’t much food in the cupboards. It’s winter. It’s hard to make it to the market, and hunting is slow.”
“Hunting,” I said. “Did you hunt?”
“It’s cold,” she said.
Defaulting to pattern. Nothing to connect to, to answer the question.
“Why is hunting slow?” I asked.
I needed an in. A connection.
“The animals sleep during the winter. I’m so tired.”
“It’s cold,” I prompted her. “The animals are asleep for the winter. It’s winter.”
She echoed me. Caught up in the words.
“It’s cold,” I repeated. “The animals are asleep for the winter…”
It became a chant.
“Walk down the path, June,” I said. “Walk home.”
She advanced, still repeating the words, her physical form jerking between the times she’d said or thought each phrase. But she walked.
“Fell,” I said, as she got into the flow of it, a rhythm. The temperature in the room was dipping precipitously. “I summon you.”
I could feel the connection to Fell. I touched the residual blood on the hatchet, and found only what was frozen there. I scraped off what I could with my gloved fingertips and cast it out, at the connection between Fell and me.
“Come, Fell,” I said. “I fucking order you to come.”
I advanced further, following in June’s wake. Animals backed away, circling around, looking for an avenue of attack.
The cold affected me too, and it was all the more intense where I was hurt, where teeth had pierced clothing.
I saw Dowght, in far worse shape than me, almost mangled, cringing in the face of the freezing temperature. He would be feeling it ten times over.
I wasn’t strong enough to carry him, even if he was malnourished.
I touched the hatchet to his face until he moved his head. His eyes fell on me.
“Bastard,’ he mewled the word.
I didn’t have time for this… he’d rejected my earlier offer for help. He’d had to, but he’d rejected it. In moments, June would advance out of my reach, and I didn’t quite have breath to shout out orders. The animals would finish circling around and attack us from behind.
That was if they didn’t decide to brave the cold and attack regardless.
“Look,” I said. I used the cold of the hatchet’s metal to make him move his head, then touched it to his temple. “Eyes forward. Look at your animals.”
I could see his eyes open. One was nearly unable to open, with the way his eyelid had torn.
I spoke, “They’re going. Follow them.”
“But…” He started to turn his head, looking down. Looking towards the animals that were circling around.
I touched the cold hatchet to his chin again. He raised his chin out of the way, looking more in June’s direction, looking in the direction of the animals that were in front of June, steadily retreating as she advanced, uncomfortable.
“They’re leaving,” I repeated. “Come on.”
I offered the handle of the hatchet for him to hold.
“They’re going,” I said. “Hurry.”
Hurry because the animals will get us if you don’t.
“Bastard,” he whispered the word.
But he took hold of it. I hauled him to his feet.
He was lighter than I’d thought.
More unstable, too. He stumbled. I used my left forearm instead of my arm to stop him from outright colliding with me.
I didn’t like touching. Especially someone I didn’t trust. But… this was what it was.
I took a half-step in June’s direction. Without the pressure of my forearm, he nearly fell, stopped as he came to rest against the arm again. I tried again, praying he wouldn’t fall. I didn’t have the power to haul him to a standing position a second time.
Once he found his stride, though, he only needed my forearm to steady him, not to support him.
I’d nearly forgotten, in the chaos.
I switched arms, bracing him with my hatchet-arm, and I reached for the table, struggling to reach without dropping my charge.
I hooked my baby finger through the twine that bound Black Lamb’s Blood.
Half-blind, tattered, Dowght followed June and his animals.
“Turn in the path, June,” I managed. Easier, without the burden of a man’s weight, malnourished or no.
She veered towards the room to her left.
“Cabin door, June,” I said.
She paused, recognized the front door for what it was, and approached it.
We emerged into the outdoors. Animals scattered as we passed through the door.
The cold that June emanated was intense. My breath was freezing as it left my lips, crusting around my nose and mouth. I couldn’t feel much of anything, which was almost a blessing, given my injuries.
“Come on, Fell,” I said.
Birds filled the air. No longer Pauz’s eyes in the sky, they winged this way and that. A storm in motion, unpredictable.
A larger animal slowly paced into the middle of the street.
Ominous as fuck.
A deer, antlers fully grown, a dozen points that could pierce a heart or an organ. A crown of points. Promising danger more than it promised self defense.
There was blood around its mouth and nose. Tatters of flesh and fur hung from the blunt teeth I could see.
“What the fuck happened to Bambi?” I asked.
“He’s beautiful,” Dowght said. “Majestic. A tyrant, a despot. My third favorite.”
“You’re going to a mental asylum,” I said. “Just to be clear. I don’t think you’re fit for ordinary society any more.”
“Handsome. Noble,” Dowght muttered. Oblivious.
I couldn’t run without abandoning Dowght, couldn’t deal with three hundred fucking pounds of muscle with more speed, strength and weapons than I had.
“Fell,” I said, using the Thorburn voice. “Come on.”
The deer shifted position. Mouth slightly agape, teeth showing, it lowered its head. Points aimed at me and Dowght.
Not a mating thing. Not self defense. Just murdering me with its freaking horns because it could.
“June,” I said. “Turn left.”
She veered closer to the deer. It didn’t seem to care.
It scuffed the snow-covered road with its hoof.
Preparing to charge.
I would shove Dowght in the way, if it came down to it. I just didn’t think it would make a big difference.