Kenric chuckles at that, earning a sharp elbow from Ulrick. “She’s going to get herself killed one day,” Ulrick mutters.

  Shaking his head, Kenric grins. “Not today.”

  This amuses my honor guard. They’ve seen my speed and how long I can maintain it. I hear Miyabe murmur to Usami. “She’s testing him. Watching his rhythm.”

  I hear Usami chuckle and reply. “And enjoying every moment.” Torsten starts to press me harder, but I dart in low, aiming for his knee. Torsten pivots, catching my blade and locking it against his own.

  For a heartbeat, we’re nearly nose to nose. His gaze is steady, and I flash him another grin. “Careful, old wolf. You’re starting to sweat.”

  He snorts at me as I wrench my blade free and spin away. I laugh because Usami was right. I’m enjoying this. I call out to Torsten. “You’re better than I expected.”

  Torsten lowers his blade and grins at me. “You’re even faster than you let on.”

  I laugh again and waggle my wooden blade at him. “Careful, Torsten. Compliments might make me like you.”

  Torsten throws his head back and laughs. “I’ll stop, then. I wouldn’t want to make Kenric jealous.”

  Kenric gives Ulrick a wry smile. “If she ever wants to kill me, I’m doomed.”

  Urick bumps Kenric’s shoulder with his own. “I doubt you’d ever see it coming.”

  Smirking, I shoot back, “Oh no. He’d see it coming. He just wouldn’t be fast enough to get out of its way.”

  Kenric palms his face and gives me a mock glare while everyone else laughs. I sashay up to Kenric and lay my hand over his heart.

  Kenric places his hand over mine, and I smile up at him. “You know that I’d burn the world down to protect you.”

  Kenric nods, and his other hand cups my face. “You know that I feel the same way about you.” Someone coughs, and the moment is broken.

  I sigh, “I suppose it’s time for lunch. We should see what Melina and the other have managed to cook for us.”

  I glance at Torsten, “Do you mind if we do a bit of hunting? Some fresh meat would be welcome.”

  Torsten chuckles, “It is a hunting lodge. If you can find something this time of year, you’re welcome to it. Just be careful. The snows are about to come, and bears will be hungry, looking to fatten up for their hibernation. They’ll smell blood and come, looking for an easy meal.”

  I nod and gesture for him to follow me. I jog off into the trees and pull down the visor to my helm to hide my shift. I think of Ellisar and that last scene in the throne room, where he demanded a show of respect after stripping my honor name.

  That much anger makes the shift easy, and the armor hides most of it. I raise my head, sniffing and listening as I spin. “Pine needles. Rabbits have a warren there. Stoats are hunting. I can hear their calls. A den of foxes is near. It smells like water, but with a lot of minerals, and that usually means a spring. Past the foxes. Ah… there. That direction. Elk or something very like it. A whole herd.” I take a few moments to calm myself and shift back.

  I raise my visor, look at Torsten, and point. “Is there a small valley in that direction?”

  He nods and gives me a curious look. “Elk or something very like them. It smells like a whole herd.”

  Torsten crosses his arms and looks at me. “You can’t possibly smell that from here. I know where that valley is.”

  I shrug. “I suppose no human could. My nose is a good bit better than that.”

  Torsten doesn’t believe me, but we head back to the lodge for lunch. It’s bread and stew made from the stores that Torsten left for us. They’ve made enough for everyone, and we all dig in, eating and chatting.

  After the morning spent sparring and training, everyone’s got an appetite.

  Melina nudges me. “No wonder you don’t have any trouble keeping your figure, despite how you eat.”

  “The activity does help, but it’s mostly Fey metabolism. If I don’t eat enough, I’ll lose weight.” Melina and the ladies are shocked when I announce that I’ll be hunting after lunch. They’d be even more shocked if they knew how I’ll be hunting. I’m going to shift and catch us all some dinner. I haven’t done it in ages, and I miss it.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  We go outside, and I stop to give Inaba some directions. “Give me an hour head start. Let Kenric try to track me. Give him some help when he needs it.”

  Inaba nods and returns to training Kenric. I start some stretches, and Torsten looks at me curiously, “What are you going to do?”

  “I thought I’d go prowl through the forest. See if I can find that valley and take an elk for dinner. Maybe lay a trail and see if Kenric can follow it,” I reply.

  Torsten snorts, “That’s not something I’d expect Kenric to be good at.”

  Torsten catches the questioning look on my face. “Eldert’s holdings are all largely cultivated. Kenric’s were, too, before the plague. I’m sure some of it’s gone wild again, but I doubt he’s ever needed to learn that sort of thing.”

  I flash a grin at Torsten. “He makes more noise than a bull moose, crashing through everything. He practically rolled in the poison berry bush before getting tangled up in a dragon berry bramble. Where I’m from, even the plants will try to devour you.”

  Torsten laughs as I shake my head. “He shines like a mirror in that armor, clanks like a cook wagon, and might be the easiest thing to track in any kingdom.”

  Torsten laughs harder at my description, but I point out why this is problematic. “Trouble seems to swirl around us constantly. If we have to do a runner to get away from something or someone, that won’t do. I can only cover so much. He’s got to learn to be quieter and leave less of a trail.”

  Torsten chuckles but nods, “I see the sense in it. Get Tobias to help you.”

  At my puzzled look, Torsten explains. “Tobias spends a lot of time with our hunters. When it comes to tracking or trail covering, he’s the best of my three boys.”

  “Perhaps I should teach him too, while we’re here,” I reply, thinking furiously.

  “Tobias is good at bringing in game. What do you think you can teach him?” Torsten asks.

  “Fey hunt, not just by sight, but by scent and body heat. I don’t think humans see quite like Fey does. I know that most can’t smell nearly as well.”

  “You want to teach him to hide a scent trail?” Torsten asks.

  I nod. “And how to hide in other ways.I doubt it will come to open war with Ellisar, but if Fey should come here, you’ll know how to hide from them.”

  “We’ve repelled invaders before. We’ll do it again,” Torsten replies.

  I shake my head. “You’ve never faced Fey invaders. We’re not like anything you’ve ever dealt with. Your tactics against human invaders won’t work on us. I wasn’t joking when I said if I were truly your enemy, I’d have gutted you twice over.”

  Torsten looks doubtful, so I tell him. “Keep up if you can. I’m going hunting.”

  Torsten frowns at me. “You don’t even have a bow.”

  I smirk. “I don’t need one.” I jog into the forest and pull my visor back down before I shift. I take off at a lazy run. It’s a bounding, energy-conserving, lope. I don’t know if Torsten can keep up. I listen, and he’s thundering along behind me, so I stop and wait for a moment. I climb a tree and sniff again, adjusting our direction. I leap to the next tree before climbing down.

  I let instinct take over for a bit as I consider what to do about these dukes. Everything is so nebulous, it's challenging to plan. If I knew the players better, I could plan better, but I’ll need to test these dukes to see how they respond. I spend some time plotting out how to test their reactions. I stop again, waiting for Torsten. Finally, he lumbers up, winded, and flops down on a fallen tree.

  I wander over, “This isn’t even close to my full speed.”

  We sit for a while as Torsten recovers. Once his breathing and heart rate return to normal, Torsten waves at me to go on, so I take off again in the same lazy lope. We’re nearing the herd now, and I stop to climb another tree. From here, I can see them, and I want to plan our approach so we don’t scare them. They’re not exactly elk, but something similar. I climb down and wait for Torsten to catch up. I tell him what I’ve spotted, and he nods.

  “It sounds like a whole herd of stonehorns.” He goes on to describe them for me.

  The stonehorn is a massive herbivore, standing nearly eight feet tall at the shoulder, with a robust, stocky build designed to withstand brutal mountain winters. Its coat is a thick, shaggy mantle of mixed gray, white, and deep russet, providing perfect camouflage against granite slopes and snowdrifts. The stonehorn’s most distinctive feature is the antlers. The stonehorn's antlers are dense, bone-white masses that grow into broad, shovel-like formations, often reaching ten feet from tip to tip.

  The antlers are craggy and textured, looking less like bone and more like fossilized coral or raw marble, giving the animal its name. Over the years of an animal’s life, lichens and slow-growing mosses often colonize the porous surface of the antlers, further cementing the illusion of walking rock. Stonehorns are true herd beasts, traveling in immense groups of fifty to a hundred animals, led by a single, colossal male. The enormous male is the herd’s Patriarch, and his antlers are typically the largest and most encrusted.

  He warns me to be careful of them. When threatened, the herd doesn't flee wildly. Instead, they form a tight, immovable wedge, with the females and young protected at the center. The mature males face outward, lowering their great, stony antlers to create an impenetrable, bristling fence of bone. They also have sharp hooves and will attack a predator.

  I digest this and nod. “Then I’ll have to be sure they don’t sense me until I have our dinner.” I gesture for Torsten to wait.

  I wrap myself in shadows and slink toward the edges of the herd, where some of the males are busy grazing on winter-killed grass. I watch for a moment, timing my approach. Before any of them can react, I leap and land on one of them. My teeth sink into his spine, and my claws tear into his throat. He falls with little fight or noise. Before the scent of blood can spread, I jump onto the next and repeat the same process. The third one I try to take resists. Somehow, he senses me and charges, bugling.

  I sidestep his charge and grab his antlers, pulling his head down and around. His momentum causes us to spin and skid as I punch him in the head, stunning him. I dodge his failing hooves and rip out his throat. This time, the herd has been warned and has assumed the defensive position Torsten mentioned. It looks formidable, and the risk of injury seems too high to try for a fourth one. Three of these beasts are enough for us. I grab the largest one and start dragging it back toward the treeline, where Torsten is waiting.

  Have you ever seen elk up close? Let me know in the comments...