Page 47 of For the Ghastly and Beautiful

Chapter14

Connak

DAY THIRTY-SEVEN

I’ve never wanted to return to the village as badly as I do right now. This is the shortest trip I could manage, but two days have been too many.

I want to get back to Ada.

That’s a strange feeling to have, and recognizing it hasn’t fared well for me. All I can think about is what she’s doing and how much I… miss her.

She’s been my sole focus as I’ve soundlessly traveled back home. The silence is terrible company, nothing like having Ada snip at me. Or the multitude of ways she says my name. Or the way she rolls her hazel eyes when I do something that catches her unprepared.

Her voice floats through my mind, replaying the conversations I’ve had with her since we met. She consumes me in a way I didn’t believe was possible. But I know it to be true since I’ve begun staying in the palace.

We planned to swap in and out, though that only lasted until the first night any of us stayed. After that, we couldn’t find the will to leave her side. So, we decided to move in until she’s tired of us and wants space. We won’t leave her alone for long, even if she tells us to go.

I can’t fathom not having her near. If she left, I would scour the island to find her. The hunt would consume me just as she does. I’m already fighting the urge to track her down.

The hunt for beasts hasn’t called to me once on this trip. And I wonder if that’s because I can’t focus on anything except Ada or if there aren’t any beasts in the Mongrel forest today.

Whispers from the wind surround me as I trek through the undergrowth and fallen trees. There’s a niggle in the back of my mind, bringing me to a complete stop. My senses heighten as I slow my breathing and listen to the land.

I push my presence out, seeking the triggers to the stirring hunt, one-by-one.

My hearing fades until the nearby birds no longer register, but I can make out the distant beating of butterfly wings.

My vision dulls, turning the forest into a dreary gray-washed landscape. Hanging moss sways in my peripheral, creating eerie shadows across decaying leaves.

Scent goes next, drowning out all the sweet and musky aromas. Each species of flora has its own distinct marker where smell is involved. I shove them all away, focusing on what shouldn’t be in the forest.

Once I find what I’m searching for, I allow my senses to come back to me. I slink quietly through the undergrowth, leaving the well-traveled path as I trail behind a beast.

Fresh tracks become visible after I hop over a fallen tree. I study the perfect footprint left in a puddle of mud, noting the size, depth, and length between strides. Most likely, this is a male. The females tend to have less depth in their tracks.

I take some quick measurements before continuing to follow the broken twigs and disturbed ground cover.

After a few minutes, I find a second set of tracks. They align beside the first set as if they were walking side-by-side. The sight has curiosity spilling into my mind and dread filling my stomach.

I’ve witnessed a group of beasts in the same area, but this is different. Before, the beasts came in from opposite directions, almost as if they met each other by accident. This? This appears intentional, like they were traveling as a pair.

If they had taken the same path at different times, the second beast wouldn’t have left a fresh set of tracks. This much I know with certainty.

I copy the sequence of tracks into my journal and take notes of the details once again.

I’m getting closer to them. I can smell their sour scent lingering on the light breeze. Without further prompting, I unsnap the loop on the sheath of my sword and tuck my journal into my pants pocket.

I prowl forward, silent and light on my toes as I listen for their heavy footsteps. But I don’t hear them. I kneel behind a bush, gently easing berry-covered branches to the right as I peek through the hole.

Twigs snap to my left, and I dart a glance over my shoulder. Nothing is there, though my skin tingles with awareness.

Just ahead, two beasts stand facing each other. Their massive heads dip and shake as if having a voiceless conversation. Their attention turns in my direction. I remain rigid, unmoving, as I hold my breath.

Another snap sounds from behind me, much too close for comfort. The two beasts in front of me look away dismissively as I twist my head to peer over my shoulder.

A third beast approaches.

And while I’m downwind from the other two, this one most definitely will pick up my scent.