As sounds of the rushing nearby river became apparent, Paxton heard voices. Tiern and the three others came running into his sight and stopped when they saw him, except for Zandora, who rushed on to tend to the injured huntress.
“By the depths, Paxton, are you mad?” Tiern said with a scowl of disbelief. “You shouldn’t have followed! Look at you, bleeding everywhere!”
“Where is the beast?” he asked.
“It ran into the river and submersed itself,” Harrison said, shaking his head. “The beast dived in like a bear and we never saw it come back up. It took the man with it.”
What an awful way to go.
“So, the beast can swim,” Paxton thought. Prints they’d found by the water had led him to believe it was a possibility, but he’d hoped the beast was land dwelling only. Now he knew why it was so hard to find and trap.
“Come on,” Tiern said. He lifted Paxton’s arm across his shoulder, making him wince. “Let’s get you back to the castle.”
“Daylight is coming,” Harrison said, nodding up at the lightening sky.
Samuel and the Kalorian ran ahead to inform the others and help the injured back to royal lands.
“The beast has a weakness,” Paxton said. Ignoring his pains, he walked as quickly as he could, clutching his arm.
Harrison and Tiern both nodded and said, in sync, “Its neck.”
Problem was, the beast’s head was like a boar’s—it hardly had a neck to speak of. Its head slumped down to its shoulders and only raised slightly when it roared.
“One of the Kalorian men said they’d slashed across its throat when they first attacked it,” Harrison explained. “That’s why it was running. It’d been injured.”
“Good,” Pax said. The beast was stronger than he could have possibly imagined, but at least it had a weakness.
That, at least, was a start.
Chapter
16
Eight-year-old Stephon had learned to be the first one out of the schoolhouse each day, and to run like the wind through the soybean fields, all the way to their lean-to hidden in the forest. As the son of a registered Lashed in Rambling Brook of Lochlanach, it was never a good idea to dawdle. But this day he’d had to stay behind at his teacher’s request.
Her lips were pursed as they stood before the class’s small aquarium where baby rainbow trout floated belly-up. “Did you kill the fish, Stephon?”
The boy shook his matted head insistently. “No, ma’am.”
“You know the rules. You are not to touch any living thing in this class. Your gloves are to stay on at all times in this room.”
“I understand, miss. I promise I didn’t touch it. And . . . I’m not Lashed.”
Her lips pursed tighter. “So you and your mother say.”
The boy’s chest filled with the heat of shame and frustration. He dropped his head and mumbled. “I saw the other boys poking it with a stick.”
“It is not proper to tell lies and blame innocent people when you choose not to take responsibility for your actions. The other children told me they saw you.” Her voice filled with a scary sort of satisfaction. “Take off your gloves, Stephon.”
He knew what she wanted. She wanted to see lash marks. He slowly pulled off the thin gloves and held out his hands. His teacher backed away to a safe distance, then bent slightly to get a closer look. She frowned at the sight of his clean, unmarked nails, and stood tall again. “Leave. And stay away from the fish tanks from now on.”
Stephon pulled his gloves back on and grabbed his bag, rushing from the room. A quick glance around the schoolhouse showed that the other children had gone home. He ran through the long grass until he hit the village’s main path, which would lead to the soybean fields by his house. As he turned a corner at the Reefpoole farm, he slid in the gravel, almost crashing into two women in his path.
“Whoa, dear one, careful now.” The woman wore a light hooded covering that hid most of her face, and she talked funny.
Stephon scrambled to his feet and was set to keep running when a voice rang out from the rickety steps of the nearby house. Seas, no, the last thing Stephon wanted was to attract the attention of Farmer Reefpoole.
“Watch out, ladies, don’t let that boy touch you!”
The two women and Stephon both turned their faces up to the man on the steps, boots covered in dirt and face red from the sun. A boy from Stephon’s school was at the man’s side, scowling down at him. “His mama’s Lashed, and he’s trouble.”
The women’s heads snapped to Stephon, and he felt pierced by the icy blue eyes of the one who’d spoken. Her hood had fallen back a little to reveal shining black hair and the prettiest face Stephon had ever seen. But those eyes . . . they seemed to dissect him.
“Is that right?” the woman crooned in that strange accent. “Are you dangerous, boy?”
It took him a moment to register her words, then he shook his head. Half a second later he felt a sting as something sharp bashed into his arm. The woman gasped and looked up at the steps. The farmer’s son threw another rock, this time hitting Stephon in the chest. He grabbed his rib in pain.
“Get away from those ladies!” the boy yelled. His father smirked.