Page 9 of Hunting for her Heart
“We’ll figure it out,” Ronan yells back over his shoulder. “I think this is the right spot,” he says, aiming his bird down to the open area where several other skyreachers are being led into a large cave.
The birds land gracefully, and the three of us quickly hop off and start to remove their equipment. I glance around and see everyone is looking at us with a mix of surprise and fear.
Once Tilly, my bird, is free of her gear, I rub her head andoffer her thanks before stepping back and letting her go. Ronan and Hawk do the same, and when we turn around, we find a meek-looking young man, barely out of his teenage years, staring up at us as he literally shakes in his shoes. As if scared for his life.
“You have something to say?” Ronan asks him.
“I-I-I was going to say I can keep your birds safe for you, while you’re here,” he says, his eyes flicking to where our birds have taken off, probably to find somewhere nearby to eat and rest.
“No need,” Ronan says before holding out his saddle. “You can, however, store this for us.” I drop mine down in front of him, and Hawk does the same as the boy struggles to hold up Ronan’s saddle.
“O-okay,” he says before scurrying off.
I try not to smile, but his fear amuses me. We take a second to look around the clearing, and everyone who is watching us suddenly turns around, as if they hadn’t been caught staring. It’s easy to see the large path through the trees that must lead to the Mating Hunt.
“We may as well start there,” Ronan says, seeing the same path as me. He leads the way as Hawk and I flank him, our eyes and ears alert for any sign of the charm or threat.
As we reach the end of the path, we find ourselves in a large clearing in the forest, filled with men. We’ve barely taken two steps into it when a group of six men steps in front of us, their arms crossed over their chests as they glare at us.
The man in the center spits on the ground as he hisses, “Redmere scum.”
“What’d we ever do to you?” I ask in amusement. Seriously, though, nobody has left our island in years.
“Go back to your dirty island. You don’t belong here.”
“What’s your problem?” I ask, resisting the urge to pull out my sword. But I know we can’t just kill anyone who ticks us off.Unfortunately.
“You think you can come here and take our women?” the shorter man to his left asks us with a sneer.
“Ah, I see the issue. You think we are here to participate in your barbaric game, and that we’ll win,” Ronan says calmly with a nod of his head. These men, although big for mainlanders, are still a few inches shorter than us, and no threat. Besides, they would never attack us out in the open with so many others watching.
“Then why are you here?” one of the men who hadn’t spoken yet asks as if he doesn’t believe us.
“None of your business,” Ronan tells him.
The lot of them glare at us before the man in front spits on the ground again and mutters, “Dirty cannibals,” before turning and heading back into the crowd.
“Well, that was a warm greeting,” I say in amusement as we watch them walk away.
“We need to find the charm,” Hawk says, bringing us back to the task. We nod as we start to move through the crowd of men.
I’m not sure what we will possibly find here amongst all these men, and Ronan seems to have the same thought as he eventually tells us, “Let’s head toward the forest. It’s probably in there.”
As we get toward the front where several small platforms sit, a couple of men block our path.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the tallest of them asks us.
“Into the forest,” Ronan says, nodding over their heads to the woods beyond.
Then three men laugh as they eye us carefully. “I don’t think so. Only people signing up for the Mating Hunt get to go in there, and not until they are told it’s time.”
Ronan just stares down at them with a frown. I know he’s contemplating just pushing them aside, but we really don’t want hundreds of men chasing us down while we conduct our search.
Without saying a word, Ronan turns on his heel, and we follow him as he moves back through the group. There’s a small commotion to our right, and we all stop and glance in that direction.
Beyond all the men are some canvas tents scattered throughout the trees. Something over there has caught some of the men’s attention, as all the ones at the edge are looking in that direction.
Since we have no direction in mind anyway, we head toward the commotion. We have to push a few people aside to make our way to the edge, and as we step in front of the last group of men, we all freeze in our tracks.
