“Pin it, while I go in,” Rowan said calmly to Tristan.
Tristan threw himself down on the Woven’s long tail. The Woven hissed and turned to attack Tristan, but Rowan was on it before those long pincers could snip Tristan in two. Rowan thrust his dagger up into the underside of the beetle-like head. No sound came out of it, but the little legs in front wiggled and flailed, at first quickly, and then slowly until they stopped. The creature slumped over onto its side as Rowan yanked his dagger out.
Tristan stood, panting, and looking down at the dead Woven. “Do we just leave it, or try to drag it away?”
“More will come if we leave it, but I think it’s too heavy to drag anywhere,” Rowan said quietly, crouching down and grabbing a handful of snow. “We should wake everyone and move the group instead.” He looked up at Tristan and smiled while he cleaned his hands and his dagger with the snow. “You handled that quietly. That was smart.”
“I didn’t want any more of them to hear a struggle and come help their buddy,” Tristan said shakily.
“You have good instincts.”
Tristan smiled back, touched by the compliment. “I’m really trying to hate you, you know,” he admitted candidly.
“Yeah, I know,” Rowan replied, clenching his wet, frozen hands to warm them.
“I had her all to myself for years and I thought she’d stay mine no matter what I did.” Tristan laughed bitterly. “I told myself that I needed to get all the other girls out of my system first because I wasn’t ready for forever yet.”
“Maybe you weren’t,” Rowan said kindly. “Most people aren’t ready for forever when they’re eighteen.”
“But you were.”
Rowan smiled to himself. “Ready or not, it was forever for me from the first time I saw her. I was seven, Tristan. Not everyone’s built like that.”
“But you’re talking about the other one,” Tristan said, confused. “The other Lillian.”
“No,” Rowan replied enigmatically. “It was always Lily.” Lily heard Rowan stand and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. “We should get them up and get moving,” he said.
They woke the rest of the group quickly and quietly. Una was annoyed when she saw the dead Woven. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she said, angry to have been left out. “I need the practice.”
“Next one’s yours,” Rowan promised with an indulgent smile. “Now hurry. The scent of its blood has been on the breeze for a few minutes already.”
They grabbed their gear and moved away from the dead Woven. Rowan’s gaze kept lifting up to the treetops. He didn’t like to travel when it was still dark out.
“It’s nearly dawn,” Breakfast said. “Maybe we should just push on rather than trying to find another campsite?”
Una nodded in agreement. Tristan and Rowan shared tired looks. Between keeping watch and fighting the Woven, neither of them had gotten more than a few minutes’ rest, but they agreed to keep going. The group headed south, treading as quietly as they could through the snow.
By eleven in the morning they were all queasy with fatigue. Rowan dug up some frozen dandelion roots for them to chew on. The bitter taste was not pleasant but it helped to keep them awake and moving. He called a halt to their slowing march just after noon and told them to gather wood for a fire. In half an hour he had some kind of tea bubbling away inside his cauldron. Breakfast sniffed his portion.
“Not that I don’t trust you, but what’s in the brew, Mr. Wizard?” he asked.
“Birch and red clover. Improves circulation. It’ll give us all a little more body heat and energy,” Rowan answered.
They drank their rather unpleasant tea and rested for a few minutes, but they could all feel that Rowan was anxious to depart and push on before they were fully rested.
“How much farther?” Tristan asked.