He exhaled and smacked his hands to his thighs. “Nobody will tell me anything!”
“They won’t tell me anything either,” Aerity said. “Come on. Let’s find Vixie and visit the indoor archery range together. I’ll challenge you both to best out of five.”
“You’re on!” He ran ahead, dark red locks flopping around his head.
Everything was going to be okay. Forces would be dispatched this very day to try to catch the nocturnal beast where it slumbered. They would hunt through the night if necessary. By the next day, this madness could be over.
Princess Aerity awoke to the hope of celebration, but when she tiptoed out of her chambers for an update, she was met with eerie silence. She found Donubhan, Vixie, and the younger cousins eating with the maids in the informal dining room. She rushed past before they spotted her. Following low voices coming from the end of the long hallway, she found her parents, aunts, uncles, and the king’s advisers inside his office. She slipped in behind the standing bodies. When all eyes turned to her she stood straighter, clasping her hands behind her back and lifting her chin as if daring them to make her leave.
Her father only sighed. “Continue,” he told one of the commanders.
Aerity felt a moment of proud glee.
The commander looked ragged, as if he hadn’t slept. “Your Highness, the men were stationed throughout the kingdom—in trees, at the edges of the water, anywhere we could think. The beast attacked from behind along the east inlet—one of the places it’s never been spotted before. My men say the beast felled ten men within minutes. Their weapons were useless. They say it has tough skin, thick tusks, and sharp claws. It roared loud enough to pierce their eardrums, and . . . the few surviving soldiers ran.”
The commander sounded ashamed to admit this as the king grimaced. His soldiers ran. For some reason this shocked Aerity more than any other fact. Grown, trained men had run because the beast was that frightening. The room seemed to grow colder.
“Your Majesty,” began Lord Wavecrest. “Perhaps we should round up a few Lashed to try and kill it with their powers—” The king adamantly shook his head, and her uncle hurried on. “With all due respect, now’s not the best time to have a bleeding heart. A Lashed One could kill the beast with a single touch!”
Aerity’s father slammed a fist against his oak desk, making it rattle. “I will not force civilians to face the beast against their will, Lashed or not. Would you have women, children, and elderly out there when our own soldiers run from it?”
“There are men on the Lashed records. Not many, but—”
“I said no.”
Lord Wavecrest gritted his teeth. Aerity could see the desperation on his face. He’d already lost his future son-in-law, and his daughter had withdrawn to a dark place in her mind, gone from them as well.
“Lord Wavecrest,” the king’s adviser said. “From what I know of the Lashed, they must be able to lay hands on a living being and concentrate. Our men are being flung ten feet from the beast with barely a shrug of its arms. If we could somehow trap it and hold it down, a Lashed One would be valuable, but we have not yet discovered a way to do so.”
Lord Wavecrest gave a nod and looked away in defeat. His wife took his hand.
“Tonight, the soldiers go again,” the king said. “Any who are willing. I will offer a healthy financial reward to the one who kills the beast or injures it enough to take it captive.”
From that day on, Aerity was allowed into the adult conversations without question. She desperately wanted to drag her grieving cousin along with her, since they’d always done everything together, but the last thing Wyneth needed was to hear talk of the beast.
Aerity rushed straight to her father’s office for news the next morning, but it was empty. The castle was strangely silent. Aerity neared the High Hall, where a guard stood at attention outside the doors. He allowed her to pass without hesitation. She saw movement through the crack of the door and she opened it enough to peek in.
Aerity held her breath at the sight of her mother climbing the hanging silks. She hadn’t seen her mother perform, even casually, in years. Aerity recalled how weightless her mother had always seemed in her silk acts, but today there was a heaviness about her ascent. Queen Leighlane’s cabernet-colored curls were pulled up tightly and she wore a close-fitting shirt and leggings. She was halfway to the ceiling when she stopped, resting her cheek against the fabric as she swayed.