Eyes of the Woods (12 page)

I nodded and kept my eyes to the ground until I felt the elder and the crowd walk away. Daniel stood next to me, and I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“You did well.”

“Those were actual … children? How is that possible?”

“It takes nearly a year for our bodies to fully change. You might have noticed a difference in those you’ve come across. Some are easier to kill than others.”

I nodded. “Father said the older ones, the ones who’ve been nightwalkers the longest, are stronger.”

“Indeed. Occasionally, our women become with child before that year is completed, while their bodies are still human enough to produce a child, and only with a newly turned male. It doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does, we seem to have many births within months of one another.”

“And the children … they grow normally?”

Daniel nodded. “They’re stronger, and yes, maybe a bit faster than human children.”

“So that group that we … Oh God. Oh God, no.”

“Most of the mothers allowed themselves to be killed once their children were gone. Ayana and her mate, Efraim, are the only ones still alive. They’ve been hunting your family, waiting until the right moment.”

“I would too,” I said, feeling the urge to sit down. I found the closest tree to hold myself up. “I didn’t know. I didn’t …” I covered my face. “That’s a lie. It felt wrong. I knew it was wrong. But my father said—I thought he knew of such things. I trusted him.”

“He learned that from his father, just like his father before him. There are many untruths about us, which is why we live apart, deep in the woods.”

“How could you bring me here, knowing all of this? How could you save me?”

“Because I saw the look on your face when your father and brothers slayed those children. I even saw that it bothered Dyre. And I saw him bury the boy. We don’t run from Priory, Eris. We watch you. We learn from you. We wish to one day live in peace.”

“My grandfather was killed by an elder. We’ve lost countless villagers. Don’t speak to me of peace.”

“It’s not perfect. There are angry, frightened people on both sides.”

I sat on the ground, but it was more like a fall. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my forehead on them.

“I still want to wake up from this.”

Daniel knelt beside me and put his hand on mine. “My father had been sick. I was standing in the tree line when your family came to collect him. It was just a night after our young were slaughtered, and many in the coven wanted to annihilate your entire village. They wanted revenge. I watched how gently you covered his body, and how kind Dyre was to my mother. He’s always been kind to them. Always been there for them when I couldn’t be. Now you’re here. This can’t all be chance. There has to be a reason.”

As my mind connected the dots, I looked up from my knees. “You’re Ireck and Cala’s son, Daniel? The one they lost to the woods?”

Daniel offered a small smile. “They didn’t lose me. But to protect them, we kept our meetings secret. They built a house on the tree line, and I visited them nearly every night. Throughout Dyre’s adolescence, they worked on reversing the false myths he’d been raised on. They did it because they knew the truth, and that’s the main reason Evander hasn’t retaliated for killing our people. He hopes one day Dyre will see the truth and strike a truce.”

“So that’s why you saved me?”

He shifted nervously. “I saved you because I didn’t want you to die, Eris.”

“Why didn’t you turn your father? When he was ill?”

“He wouldn’t let me.”

I stood up and brushed myself off. “You didn’t give me that choice.”

Daniel looked to the ground, seeming hurt by my words.

“I’m sorry, Eris. I just couldn’t.”

I felt a burning in my throat, and I touched my neck with my fingers, panicking. “Daniel?”

“Yes?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Then we should take care of that.”

He led me deeper into the woods, to the edge of a clearing. A few deer were grazing, unaware we were crouched in the tall grass.

“They come to graze beyond the pines because the needles kill the grass,” he said.

“What do I do now?” I asked.

“Watch me,” Daniel said. He crawled along the ground, positioned like a cougar hunting its prey. When he came within one hundred yards, he took two leaps, pouncing on the deer before it had time to run. The rest bounded away, and Daniel bit into the animal’s neck. From where I stood, he looked as if he were nuzzling the deer. I ran to him, beside him in less than a second. He wiped his mouth and looked up at me.

“As you attack, your instinct will kick in.”

“I’ll just know what to do?” I asked, unconvinced.

“Trust me,” he said, standing.

I followed him to the next clearing, and we came upon another group of deer. He pointed to a mother and her fawn. “Focus on the young bucks. Try not to feed on the does. Especially those with young.”

I nodded.

“Once you pick out your prey, let your thirst take over. You’ll be surprised at how easy it is. Just give in to it.”

I chose a deer, a buck with felt still on his horns. “Just give in to it,” I said.

I crouched down and then began to creep in the grass, just like Daniel showed me. I took a deep breath in through my nose. The young buck’s heartbeat and blood flow seemed to throb in my throat, and I was pulled to it. Before I even realized I moved, I was kneeling over the limp animal, taking in the warm blood from its neck. My body instantly relaxed, and I felt stronger and more satisfied with every gulp.

Daniel appeared beside me and pulled me away before I was finished. I resisted, pushing against his arms.

“You must stop before its heart stops beating,” Daniel said. “Listen. Feel it. After the last beat, the blood becomes poisonous.”

“So my father was right about that,” I said. “What else was he right about?”

Daniel stared at me a moment. “He was right about you.”

I made a face. “What do you mean?”

“He believes you are exceptional. Strong. Smart. You’re all of those things.”

I looked away from him, glad I couldn’t blush. “He never said those things.”

“He did. In his own way.”

My lips formed a hard line.

“You miss him.”

I nodded. “I don’t mind this way of life. I kind of…like it. But if I had to choose between being a nightwalker and being with my family…” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I miss them.”

“Maybe you can have both.”

“What?”

“There are those of us who want peace, Eris. But there are just as many who want justice. The Priory has many enemies among our kind.”

“I imagine so.”

He used his sleeve to wipe the blood from my lips. “You can trust me, but until we come up with a plan, you should be very careful.”

Nightwalkers. Their names weren’t accurate. The uncontrollable thirst wasn’t true. The young ones being kept to feed upon weren’t true. Ireck Sumner believing in the laws wasn’t true, and Daniel Sumner dying as a young man wasn’t true.

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure whose truth I could trust anymore. Not even my own.

WE STOOD AT THE TREE LINE, DANIEL AND I.
Father and the boys had just returned home, and my heart sank when Mother stepped out onto the porch to greet them when they passed through the gate. She smiled, but her eyes were sad.

She had often said that a matriarch of the Priory made many sacrifices, and she would tell me about them all the night before I married. The risk of losing a child to the forest was one of them. Where other mothers forbid their children to walk behind the natural fence that the tree line provided to the dark shadows of the woods, a Priory matriarch willingly bore her children, knowing they would one day spend much of their time there.

It wasn’t until that moment that I recognized the almost negligible hint of worry in my mother’s eyes. The extra moment she held on as we said good-bye every night before a hunt. Those were the precursors to the anguish in her eyes now.

Daniel put his hands on my shoulders. “It will get better.”

“No, it won’t.”

We walked away once the porch of my former home was empty. It was too hard to stand there and imagine my family eating stew and discussing their night without me.

Daniel and I fed and then sat at the base of what looked like an ancient rock building. Impossibly hard sticks my Father called rebar reached out from the edges of huge broken-off pieces.

“Do you know what this was?” I asked.

Daniel looked up. “My father once said they were ruins from thousands of years ago, before the Fall. He said nightwalkers existed even then, but we were but whispers—the monsters in a dark tale. We kept our existence a secret for generations. The knowledge of our kind set the Fall in motion. Then it was the end, and both sides suffered.”

“That’s quite a story,” I said.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, amused.

“My father told me stories as well.”

“I know,” Daniel said, holding his knee against his chest. “About the demons in the woods.”

“No, we talked about other things besides nightwalkers.”

He looked into my eyes, intrigued. “Like what?”

“He talked about princesses a lot. They always needed to be saved, and the prince was always the hero. I didn’t like that.”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

“I think that’s why the thought of betrothal was so repulsive to me. I hated the thought of needing someone, needing to be saved. Being helpless.” I picked at the stick poking out from the moss next to me. “Turns out I needed saving anyway.”

Daniel pulled his mouth to the side. “I’m sorry.” I glared at him, thinking he was teasing, but there was genuine sympathy in his eyes.

“It was a stupid way to die,” I said, pushing off from the stump I sat on.

“You were brave. I should know. I was there.”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “I’m glad you were there.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

A loud wail sent birds into the air, flapping their wings in a panic. Daniel and I startled, on our feet in the same moment. Daniel took off in a sprint, and I followed not far behind. He was faster than I, but not by much.

At the edge of the boundary between Ona and Trou, Daniel stopped and grabbed me, pulling me behind a tree. We peered across a clearing to see a female nightwalker writhing in pain, an arrow protruding from her thigh.

“Leave her!” the woman wailed.

Four men and two boys younger than I stood next to a tree, where a young one was pinned to a tree by the neck with thick ropes.

“Leave her!”

“Beg, nightwalker!” one of the men growled. “Beg like our children when you feed upon them.

“They’re Priory,” I said quietly. “The Matinsalos from Trou.”

Daniel’s expression turned severe, that frightening look in his eyes I’d only seen once before, when Ayana and Efraim tried to take me from him.

The nightwalker shuddered violently and then expired. The child cried out, and the men laughed.

“What should we do?” I asked.

Daniel was gone, and then he attacked the men from behind, starting with the youngest. But as he made his way to the man with the bow, another pulled a dagger. I soared across the clearing, pushing him off his feet. His eyes widened when he saw me, and everyone paused.

“Eris Helgren?” he said, holding his arm up as a shield. “A nightwalker?”

The older boy attacked Daniel from behind, and I jumped to his aid. I didn’t know if I would have before, but I considered him a friend, and if not that, an ally. The man on the ground jumped up, yelling as he threw his daggers. I dodged the first and then the second, seeing them as if they were in slow motion, heading straight for Daniel’s chest. I turned and kicked the dagger straight from the air and then grabbed the man, breaking his arm. He cried out.

Daniel stood over the two young men and the one older one. They were all lying lifeless on the ground, the child whimpering, still tied to the tree.

Daniel walked over to her and released her bonds. “Sssh, it’s okay. We’re going to take you home.”

She stared at her mother and then sobbed, tearless but with no less intensity.

“Why did she not fight back?” I asked, breathing hard. “I know what we’re capable of! Why do they not fight back?”

The child fell on the ground next to her mother, bending at the waist to hug her.

“They’re forbidden,” Daniel said, watching with a tortured expression.

“What?” I asked, taken aback

“The claimed in the Trou territory are forbidden to harm humans. To do so would bring a punishment of death. To your entire family. They are instructed to run, and to hide.”

“But the Onan coven fights back! The town of Jergden was wiped out in a single night!”

Daniel’s face darkened. “Elias and his allies ignored the law. We’re only allowed to kill if we’re attacked. Evander chose not to punish them. Even those who lose themselves and feed upon a human. Even Elias. Evander is merciful, but the coven from Trou is under strict rule. Dagmar made a truce ages ago, and even though the humans no longer honor it, he does.”

I looked down upon the child. The man on the ground moaned, holding his broken arm.