Wicked Hunt

Chapter Eight, Part II

Victoria: The Serpent And The Stag

The moon greeted them through the fog, full and shining. Garrow's Road, a dusty holed path by daylight looked dark and sinister when cast in the moon's glow. A shiver could not be suppressed as Victoria was helped down from the carriage. She pulled her shawl more tightly about her shoulders. The five guards they had brought with them rode up to a stop, dropping from their mounts. Even their armor and heavy footfalls seemed dim.

"There's magic here," Victoria whispered to no one in particular. Gemma was hauled out, gripping Victoria's arm with sharp nails even though Victoria knew she was perfectly capable of traversing the dark path by herself. A faint hum thrummed from between the trees. She felt Jillian come up behind them. She reached out absently and took Victoria's hand. Her fingers felt cool in her warm grip, but she squeezed them for comfort.

"Get in my bag," Gemma ordered, fumbling with the leather strap and cotton pack at her hip. Obediently, Victoria reached down with her free hand and opened it without question. "Careful," Gemma griped. Victoria paused as her mother dug into her pocket and produced a pair of heavy, wool gloves.

"You've brought the Monkshood, then?" Victoria asked, drawing her fingers away from Gemma's bag. Jillian's hand tightened in her palm.

"I don't like it," she whispered. Her soft words were nearly drowned out by the sudden burst of wind that rippled around them, grabbing Victoria's hair and cloak.

"Take your time," Gemma hissed. "He knows we're here now." Jillian's hand was shoved away pointedly. The gloves were snatched and pressed onto Victoria's hands quickly. She was eager to do her mother's bidding if only to halt her crass comments. It wasn't the worst Gemma had ever behaved. She could be much crueler. She had been on various occasions. No one knew that as well as Victoria, who had a bit of a reprieve from Gemma's rudeness since Jillian's arrival.

Without hesitating, Victoria slipped her gloved hand into the bag, feeling around for the plant. She plucked it and carefully maneuvered it out of the small opening, holding it out on her palm. The rounded petals were slightly withered, the normally light purple had faded to a deep burgundy. Or perhaps that was the moon playing tricks with its shadows. The great looming circle in the sky used to belong to the wolf, but now it seemed, it may have switched sides.

Many poisonous herbs and plants grew in the second story garden out on the terrace at Cascade Castle. For a time, Victoria had gone with her mother to aid in growing and harvesting the plants. But Gemma's snide commands and sharp impatience drove Victoria away, focusing instead on the magic of mirrors and dreams instead of herbs and lore. She was unfamiliar with the spells and rituals that went with the plant. In fact, she did not know much of the Nightshade plants except that it was, obviously, a top choice of the great Wolf's to ward against the Black Stag.

Oh, and it was extremely poisonous.

She glanced at her mother, who stared glassily at the trees, muttering under her breath. Victoria cleared her throat. Again, a violent wind blew through the forest, drawing forth eerie sounds and vague animal shrieks. Gemma was drawn out of her reverie and turned back to Victoria. One of the horses neighed, startling Jillian so bad that a yelp escaped her lips.

"Jillian, really," Gemma scoffed, rolling her sleeves up.

Gingerly, Victoria handed the Nightshade flower to her mother. "What will it do?"

Gemma's silence made her think she'd said the wrong thing, but finally, her mother cleared her throat to explain. "It's used to keep predators at bay. With the assistance of fire, the plant will cast an essence that will confuse the Stag." Her fingers twisted around the root of the plant until it was torn off. Holding both pieces in her hands, Gemma carefully strode closer to the forest.