none of them stirred. Ren loved her forest, even the bad parts, and it broke her heart to see it acting like this. The roots kept snaking out to catch at their ankles, making the horses stumble. Once, a tree branch dropped out of nowhere, straight across the path in front of them. Koszmar shrieked and fired an entire round of bullets into it before realizing it wasn’t another monster.
After that, when they’d gotten the horses back under control, Czarn took the lead. Overhead, the branches closed to blackness, and they could no longer see the Mountains. It might have been years since he had come down from their icy slopes, but the big black wolf did not hesitate; he still had the nose for mountain air.
Ren wasn’t sure how, but she soon found herself walking next to the Wolf-Lord.
Czarn did not speak often of his cubhood. But Ren knew he had been raised on cold nights and fear, marked by an exodus from a beloved home to a place where the wolves survived, even if they did not quite love it. Ren wondered if, despite his dislike of Jakub and his new distrust for the Wolf-Lord, Czarn longed to see the purple hills.
She wondered if the same was true for this Wolf-Lord.
“How is your shoulder?” she asked as the thought occurred to her.
He grinned down from his saddle, easily enough that Ren knew he was fine. But instead of answering, he said, “Suddenly the queen of the forest is interested in a lowly, savage Wolf-Lord?”
“I never said you were savage,” muttered Ren. “I would never say that about someone.”
The grin froze. To Ren’s immense surprise, he dismounted and landed, flinching slightly, on the earth. Now they were walking beside each other.
“What are you doing?” asked Ren.
“What do you mean?” he replied in an innocent voice.
“Why are you walking with me?”
“Do you want me to leave?” The grin returned.
“If only you’d asked that two days ago.”
“Oh really?” He looked surprised, but there was a wicked tilt to the edge of his mouth. “What’s changed?”
Ren sputtered.
“No—I—that’s not what I meant.” Then she drew herself up to her full height, which—annoyingly—was still not as tall as he was. She tipped her chin back and said, in the iciest voice she could manage:
“I do not like you.”
Lukasz laughed again.
“I can tell.”
Before Ren could retort, there was a loud yelp up ahead. A spidery creature plummeted out of the branches, landing squarely on the black wolf’s back. He yelped again and went down on his wounded side.
Nocnica.
Before Ren could transform, a deafening blast echoed beside her.
The spidery monster exploded in a spray of brown guts. She reeled, ears ringing, and Lukasz—grinning, the expression completely changed—slammed a new round into the gleaming rifle.
Ren glowered. It hadn’t been a fair fight, with guns instead of claws. And yet . . . seeing Czarn struggle back to his feet, unharmed, she was—a very tiny bit—grateful.
“I could have handled it,” she snapped.
“I was faster,” he said, and shrugged.
Evening fell, and the forest changed again. The branches unknotted to reveal the sky, almost apologetically. The paths were clearer. Roots didn’t try to curl around their ankles as they ran. Nothing called down from the treetops. The air was fresh.
And whatever Ren might have thought about the Wolf-Lord, she could not help feeling a small thrill of hope. Even if he was annoying and arrogant, his presence—their deal—meant there was at least a chance that this might work.
As night fell, they stopped amid a collection of closely packed spruce. Jakub went to gather firewood, and Lukasz disappeared with his rifle and returned an hour later with a half dozen dead nocnica in hand.
He tossed the spidery things in a heap by the fire. Their hairy legs twitched.
Koszmar yelped and jumped to his feet.
“What in God’s name are those?” he demanded.
“Dinner,” said Lukasz. He must have seen Ren’s expression, because he added: “Your brother told me you don’t eat animals.”
Ren hid her surprise. Ry? was nowhere to be seen, probably off doing the things lynxes liked to do on dark nights. Ren made a mental note to tell him off when he got back. It wasn’t safe out there. Sooner or later, he was going to get himself killed.
Lukasz leaned down next to Koszmar, and after a small mechanical click, the kindling began to glow. Beside him, Koszmar tugged at the emblem around his neck.
“If you think I’m eating giant spiders—” he began, a little shrilly.