The farther they traveled, the more the wildlands lived up to their name. She’d been fascinated with every bird that flew overhead and the grazing deer that would stop and stare as they approached, and then lope off at a surprising speed. The Napatya River, which flowed down from the mountains north of Pavan and curved around part of the city, appeared shortly after their stop at Death’s Spine and ran nearly parallel with the road from then on, winding out of sight at times, only to come back into view a while later. An ominous feeling seemed to always hang in the air, but so far they had seen no hint of a storm.
They stopped for the evening on a flat swath of land between the Ruined Road and the river. The Napatya, named for the old goddess of rivers and lakes, was lined with trees, so Roar could not see the water, but she heard it rushing as they made camp.
Her hips and thighs twinged with pain as she slid off Honey’s back and led her to the river for a drink. It was darker under the canopy of trees, and insects hissed and trilled, filling up the night with sound. Honey ambled into the water until it covered her hooves and then bent to drink. Roar was contemplating wading into the cool water herself when Locke appeared beside her. He’d not spoken to her since their stop at Death’s Spine, but she’d caught him glaring more than once.
“Bait will care for your horse. It’s time for your first lesson.”
Bait popped up behind her and snatched Honey’s reins. He gave her a wide-eyed look and muttered, “Good luck.”
She sighed. “Okay. Teach me how to stay alive.”
“Follow me.” He started up the bank and out of the trees. When they passed the last line of branches, he began to run. She followed, but frowned when they passed the others making camp.
She held back her questions, knowing how they agitated him, and focused on keeping pace with his longer legs. She was relieved he stuck to the road. Twilight had cast their surroundings in eerie shadows. When his pace increased, she matched it. She was in decent shape from her occasional runs with Taven and his unit—her mother believed in being strong in both body and mind. An unexpected pang struck her at the thought of her guard. She knew how seriously Taven took her protection. He must have been out of his mind with worry. Perhaps she should have thought to leave him a note as well.
“What?” Locke barked, his eyes narrowed on her as he ran.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Tired already?” he prodded.
She was. Her thighs were screaming with the effort to move after riding all day, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She scoffed and said, “Hardly.”
He sped up again as if to test her, and she shoved down her pain to keep up. He frowned when she kept his pace without faltering. His eyes flicked to her arm. “Injury giving you trouble?”
“No. It was nothing.” When he kept staring at her, she rolled her eyes and answered, “I was thinking about someone I left back home.”
He stopped abruptly and spun to step in front of her. She barely managed to avoid crashing into him, and he was entirely too close as she struggled to catch her breath.
He said, “Tell me now if you can’t handle this.”
She lifted her chin. “I can handle anything you throw at me.”
“I meant all of this. Leaving your home. Leaving people you love.” He said the last word with his nose crinkled with derision. “If we need to turn around, tell me now. Because if we spend a week on the road and then suddenly you’re consumed with grief, you’ll have to find your own way home.”
“You would leave me to the wilds by myself?”
He ground his teeth together, breath coming in heavy pants, but did not reply.
“I won’t change my mind,” Rora said. Her heartbeat was a rapid drum, but she did not know how much of that was exertion and how much was anger. “Pavan was my home. Everything and everyone I know is there. But that doesn’t change why I’m here with you, with Duke. I’m sure you missed home at first too.”
Locke scoffed, tilting his head to stretch his neck. “No, I didn’t. I don’t think a hunter here did.”
“There was no one you left behind?”
“They were all dead,” he answered flatly, “so I would have missed them the same no matter where I was. If there’s someone you love back in Pavan, maybe you should go to them before your answer is the same as mine.”
He turned and took off into the night. This time he didn’t bother to gradually increase his pace but quickly climbed to top speed. She growled and charged after him. Unlike stubborn, controlling men, running was at least something she understood. It was simple, quiet, peaceful.
But by the time she caught up to Locke a few moments later, she was beginning to realize that there was no peace the way Locke ran. He ran as if a pack of wolves was nipping at his heels. Like the earth was crumbling behind as they went and to slow down even a little, to look back, would mean their end.
Every muscle in Rora’s body burned, but she didn’t fight it. She gave herself over to the hurt because it had never been more stunningly clear that she was alive and free. And as long as she met Locke’s expectations, as long as she exceeded them, she had the chance to become exactly who she had always wanted to be.
Eventually her mind went blissfully blank—no anger, no pain, no sadness. It was too dark to see farther than a few paces, so she forgot her surroundings completely. She did not even realize Locke had stopped until he called out her name, shattering her focus. Her knees felt wooden as she slowed and turned.
“If you’re going to pressure me to return home again,” she said, “I’d rather not hear it.”
His frown deepened. “Fair enough.”
“I know you didn’t want me here.” He interrupted with a mocking bark of laughter, and Rora’s stomach jerked painfully. “But this is all I want. It means … everything. So even if it’s hard, even if it’s dangerous, even if everyone I left in Pavan ends up hating me for it—I will not change my mind.”
After a moment, Locke turned and began walking back the way they came. Roar had stood still too long, and now her legs felt like they might shatter if she stepped wrong. But even so she asked, “What? We’re not going to run back?”
“Save your legs. We’ll be doing this all again in the morning.”
She stared after his retreating figure. “Running? That’s it? That’s my lesson?”
He strode back toward her. The gleam of moonlight combined with his serious expression highlighted the sharp angles of his face. His cheekbones sat high and flat, and his bristled jaw jutted out like a cliff’s edge.
“There will come a day, Roar, when it’s you alone against a storm. You’ll have the length of a heartbeat to take in an extreme amount of information and make a strategic choice. The most important thing any hunter learns is when to fight and when to run. That instinct can only develop with time. But it’s useless if you can’t run fast enough and far enough to escape.”