Thread of Gold

Ch. 23: everything is poetry

Anna found the deer near the stream.

The doe was lying by the water. A large trickle of red ran down her leg, speckling the last of the snow. Even from this distance, Anna could see that her breathing was laboured. Reluctant. She approached slowly, her feet crunching in the dying leaves, and the doe's head shot up. The creature didn't run, though — just watched her warily.

Anna dropped to her knees.

Black strands curled out of the shadows, wrapping around the deer's body. The animal shuddered. Anna closed her eyes, letting the darkness whisper to her. Dying. The doe was dying, and in a lot of pain.

"I'll make this quick," she murmured.

The doe's eyes were glazed.

Anna reached out a bare hand, burying it in the soft fur. She hadn't done this for a while. Not since she was a child, when Sophie made her practice on field mice. But the key was to make it swift. Like cracking a neck.

She sent out her web like a whip.

The animal went still.

"Anna!"

She jumped up. There was a whinny, and then Ryne crashed through the trees, his eyes frantic. His dark hair was slick with sweat, his green eyes blazing. He toppled off the horse, sprinting towards her.

"Are you injured?" He caught her hand in his glove. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding," he said sharply.

Anna stared down at the blood caked on her pale fingers. The deer's blood. Red blood, not silver like her own. "It's not—" She paused. "It's just a scratch." Nyxos had handed her a gift, she realized. A way to throw Ryne off the scent.

Ryne's eyes darted to the carcass. "Is it alive?"

She shook her head. "Orin must have been a better shot than I thought."

She stumbled. Shadows slithered through the underbrush, and Anna fought back a wave of dizziness. She was out of practice. Ryne frowned.

"Orin killed it?"

"Yeah."

"Funny." His mouth tightened. "I could have sworn he said—"

"Ryne!"

Two more figures burst through the trees. Ryne dropped her hand as Isaac rode into the clearing. Camille followed closely behind, her blonde hair falling out of an updo. Her red feathered hat was tilting precariously to the side.

"Anna!" Camille slid off her horse. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You idiot," Isaac said. "What the hell were you thinking?" He jumped down from his horse, shaking his head at Ryne. "Anything could have been waiting for you out here. Anything. Wild animals, murderers, rebels, thieves—"

"Gracious," Anna said mildly. "I'm a disappointment, it seems."

Isaac looked exasperated. "That's not—"

"Orin was going to leave it," Anna cut in, gesturing to the deer. "I couldn't let it suffer."

Camille's face softened. She looked on the verge of saying something when she gave a gasp, her hand flying up. Something glowed there, Anna realized, a peculiar shade of blue. But when Camille dropped her hand, it was only her necklace.

A trick of the light.

"Camille?" Isaac asked. "What is it?"

"It's nothing." Camille swallowed. "I must be getting back to the castle. That's all."