They set out from town early that morning, towards the East where a nearby mountain rose. The storm had died down finally, and the rise in temperature was starting to melt the snow.
Hazel had to be practically dragged out of bed from how Bas was grumbling about it. The older man was mostly definitely hungover from the previous night. He kept slowing down to drink water. His goggles were on, but that wasn’t unusual for him.
The small copse of trees around the village were mischievous. Whether dripping water or dropping a whole load of snow, the branches laden with snow held surprises for the unsuspecting travelers beneath them.
Hazel leaned forward against his steed’s mane, and groaned when snow hit the back of his head.
Orion glanced back but then continued her game of trying to catch the dried bits of fruit that Bas was throwing at her with her mouth. Sometimes rides got rather boring and they would try those sorts of games—usually throwing things—to amuse themselves. Trivia was ruled out because Tam almost always won those. Orion had Tam’s horse behind her on a lead, and it was a challenge to hold onto the reins and the halter while trying to eat the flying snacks.
Although the snow was starting to melt, the flat plains were still covered in a large, threadbare blanket of white. Stones and tall plants poked through, unable to be patched as the storm was over.
Tam, despite her arm being broken, sat in front of Bas and guided his horse with the resin in one hand—a hard fought compromise between her and Bas.
Sirius kept on running around excitedly, often jumping into piles of snow only to emerge just as energetic as before. She occasionally shook to get the snow off of her back.
Scorpion sat on Hazel’s shoulder and watched the snow from her high perch. She seemed to have a distaste for the cold, soon returning to hide in her owner’s saddlebags.
They stopped, much later that day, under the cover of a mountain cliff, where the snow was thinner. A few scraggly trees and shrubs had grown in the shade.
They all dismounted and set up a small fire. Bas was starting the spark, while Hazel and Orion gathered some twigs, leaves, and dead branches.
Tam was sitting down on a small rock, and had been forced to not help due to her arm. “Hazel, did you get injured?”
“Hazel’s injured?” Orion was right next to him and hadn’t noticed anything. She frowned a bit as looked at the older man.
Hazel glanced down at his ankle and then to Tam. He shrugged, with his usual smile. “I must have slept on it wrong.”
The conversation wasn’t that strange, but there was tension now. It was strong and staticky. The type that made people not want to breathe loudly for fear of drawing attention.
“You were limping last night on that same ankle though,” Bas pointed out. He was still by the fire, but he was already notching an arrow onto the string of his bow by the end of his sentence.
Hazel lurched forward and had a knife to Orion’s throat before anyone else could blink.
Orion couldn’t help but feel shock. Her expression quickly shifted to annoyance. “Okay, what the fuck is going on here?”
“I would like to know that as well,” Hazel agreed. He was still smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Bas stood up fully. He had his arrow drawn back, a visual threat. “I have had a theory for a long time, pretty much ever since you showed up.”
“Which is?”
“You’re a necromancer.”
Orion felt herself gaping again, before she threw her hands up and started seriously paying attention to the knife threatening her life. “Well, shit,” she summarized. She had only been thinking of Hazel as someone with a connection to that other world—the one with cars and Wi-Fi and a stupid family of fencers—not as a possible target.
Hazel laughed a bit. “I’m guessing the eyes gave me away.”
“That, yes,” Bas agreed.
Tam stood up slowly, watching both sides as she unsheathed her sword. She did not look happy. There was a tremble in her fingers.
Bas’ fingers twitched around the arrow. “Now, what if we put down our weapons and introduce ourselves properly?”
Sirius was growling, but didn’t move.
“How about we keep our weapons, and then introduce ourselves?” Hazel replied. There was a cold layer to his voice. He clearly didn’t trust the three of them right now.
“What if I put down mine first?” Bas offered.
“Not good enough.”
“I’ll just go first then.” Bas didn’t unstring his arrow, but he eased up. “I’m Bas Legen, prince of Malamut.”
“I’m Tam Finilley, his escort knight.” She had moved quietly to flank Bas.
Orion was trying not to squirm, but the feeling of cold steel on her throat was getting annoying. If she tried to talk, she had a fear that it would bite into her throat. Getting injured on the neck would suck and be really obvious. “Orion, bounty hunter.”
Hazel pulled off his goggles and brushed back his bangs, revealing his eyes—blue pupils and black sclera. “Hazel, no surname.” His expression changed several times during the past minute, but he had a sneer on his face now—it was a striking difference to how he usually looked. “And what are you doing out here, Your Highness?”
“The king sent us out here. We are supposed to kill the necromancer who has been raising the dead.”
“He sent out one of his prissy kids to do this?” Hazel’s voice was filled with even more vitriol, and some undisguised glee. “You’re really unlucky. He must hate you a lot.”
Orion rolled her eyes. “He chose this.”
“Alright. Alright. You didn’t let me finish.” Bas’ tone was exasperated, but also theatrical. “I said why the king sent us out here. I didn’t say why I’m out here.”
Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Why are you out here?”
“I wanted to hear your side of the story. What actually happened with the Necromancer Corps?”
Hazel seemed completely taken aback. “What the hell do you know about the Necromancer Corps?”
“I thought I remembered an older kid with curly hair and goggles that used to hang around Marcus.” Bas carefully lowered his bow. “Marcus taught me the motto. That’s why I realized what you were doing.”
Hazel looked around at the three hunters and the creature. He sighed, bitterly. “Fine.”
A/N
Oh hey, identity reveals!
