Stela took his chin in her free hand as their lips parted, turning him to meet her eyes. ‘We don’t own each other in the Pack. I’ll stick who I want, when I want, and you should, too. Ella may joke, but don’t think she ent curious after what I told her.’
She undid the laces of his breeches, freeing him. Everything seemed to be spinning, but in that one place he felt rigid – ready to explode. ‘But not tonight.’ She took him in her hand, skin on skin. Briar shut his eyes and gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. ‘Tonight is your night, Wardskin. Let’s get the first one out of the way, and then you can have me as you please.’
She pushed him back against the tree, mounting him standing. She ground her full weight down on his crotch, reaching back between their legs to fondle his seedpods. Briar howled, and Stela gave a whoop of delight, picking up the pace as they gripped and scratched at each other.
Stela slipped off him when it was done, taking a few unsteady steps before turning around and kneeling on all fours. She turned to look him in the eye, smiling. ‘This is what Franq wanted. Now he’s pulling himself and it’s yours.’
The words teased a primal hunger – the exquisite pleasure of thrusting aside a rival and taking what was his. And why not? Dominance was the natural order of the world. Wolves did it. Cories did it.
Gonna be like them now?
He looked at Stela, covered in ichor, beckoning, and something churned in him. Was this the life he wanted?
He shook his head, reaching down to pull up his pants. ‘No.’
Stela threw him an angry look. ‘No? What in the Core do you mean, no?’
Briar finished lacing himself up. ‘Last night in the Briarpatch, I thought …’
‘What, Mudboy?’ Stela snapped, springing to her feet. ‘That we were one spirit the Creator tore in half?’
‘That you understood,’ Briar said.
‘We killed two demons and stuck each other,’ Stela said. ‘What’s there to understand?’
‘World’s bigger than this,’ Briar said. ‘Folk struggling for their lives outside Gatherers’ Wood, and all the Pack are doing is …’
‘Hunting and killing the demons that prey on them,’ Stela growled.
Briar shook his head. ‘Prey on them yourself. Stealing ale and supplies, even from your own family. Ent looking to protect them when night falls. You just want …’ He swept a hand at her.
Stela put her hands on her hips. ‘Just want what, Mudboy?’
There was danger in her eyes, but now that he had started talking, Briar was past caring.
‘To bathe in ichor and rut,’ he said. ‘And corespawn any that ent Pack.’
Stela lashed out at him. The magic made her fast, but Briar had tasted it, too. He took a quick step back, avoiding the slap.
‘So what, you’re just gonna walk away?!’ Stela demanded. ‘No one walks away from Stela Cutter, you quickshooting little stinker, least of all you.’
She snatched at him, and Briar batted her arm aside with his right hand. There was a flare of power as the impact ward struck, throwing her off her feet.
Briar looked at her in horror. Stela wasn’t a demon, but covered in ichor, the wards reacted as if she were. He could still taste it in his mouth, and spat.
Then he turned and ran into the night.
Briar returned to Mistress Leesha’s keep, slipping unseen past the night guards and into her private garden. If Stela or the other Painted Children were hunting for him, this was the last place they would think to look.
The hogroot patch looked inviting, but sleep was far from Briar’s thoughts. Just the opposite, his limbs shook with unreleased energy.
So he paced until he knew the garden intimately. There were three entrances – two grand and inviting, and one carefully hidden against one of the manse walls, obscured by flora.
Briar dug a small burrow in the hogroot for future use. He practised sharusahk. Anything to keep his thoughts from drifting back to Stela Cutter.
Leesha had shown an affinity for Duchess Araine’s gardens, walking the rows at least twice a day. Sure enough, while the sky was still brightening, the hidden door opened and the mistress slipped out among the herbs.
When he was certain she was alone, Briar stepped out to face her. ‘They’re dangerous.’
Leesha’s hand snapped into one of the many pockets of her dress, but then recognition caught up. ‘Night, Briar! One of these days you’re going to end up with a faceful of blinding powder.’
Briar nodded at the distance between them. ‘Can’t throw powder that far.’
Leesha tsked. ‘Are you all right, Briar?’
He didn’t know how to answer. He’d washed every inch of himself, but still he felt the ichor on his skin, tasted it in his mouth. Stela’s scratches had already healed, but he could still feel them itch.
‘Who’s dangerous, Briar?’ Leesha asked.
‘The Children,’ Briar said. ‘Ent fighting to keep the wood safe. Fighting because it feels good to fight. Magic makes us feel unbeatable.’
‘Us?’ Leesha asked. She stepped close, taking one of his hands and turning it over. She gasped at the ward there.
Briar pulled his hand away. ‘Thought they were like me. Ent. Ent like me at all.’
‘Briar, what’s happened?’ Leesha asked.
‘Ate a coreling’s heart tonight,’ Briar said. ‘Made’m … drunk. Wild. Only going to get worse.’
Leesha looked taken aback. ‘Idiot girl,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Told us himself! Said he ate them.’ She growled, clenching her fists.
‘Ay?’ Briar asked, confused.
‘The tattoos are only half the reason Arlen Bales can ripping fly,’ Leesha said. ‘It’s the corespawned meat!’
Briar looked at her dumbly, having no idea what she meant. After a moment she collected herself, looking back at him. ‘I need you to go back, Briar. I need you to convince them to meet with me.’
Briar shook his head. ‘Ent going back. Not now, not ever. Going home.’
‘Home?’ Leesha asked. ‘Elissa and Ragen won’t head north for weeks yet.’
‘Not north,’ Briar said. ‘Home. Lakton.’
6 (#ulink_11ab5f2b-5aa9-56e9-aef7-0976989140b0)
Everam Is a Lie (#ulink_11ab5f2b-5aa9-56e9-aef7-0976989140b0)
334 AR