Soulbound (4 page)

And kill Maddox. Can’t forget that.

Shadow Academy was certainly living up to its name, as I couldn’t see it anywhere, despite the crudely drawn map on the headmaster’s letter. My father had checked and double-checked the map, assuring me that if I stayed true to the dotted line, I couldn’t go wrong. “Wait at the trailhead,” he’d told me. “Your guard will collect you there. Don’t get impatient and start wandering the woods alone.”

But my father hadn’t been counting on my guard forgetting all about me, leaving me alone in near-dark with no food.

It hadn’t occurred to me that it was an odd thing for the headmaster to give me a map when he was sending a guard to meet me at the trailhead where the wagon had dropped me off. Not until Maddox had forgotten me. Then it all made sense, and I was starting to think that maybe this was the norm for Maddox. But then, my mind needed something to think about, someone to blame, while I made my way up the pathless hill. Might as well be that.

I leaned forward, digging my shoes into the soft earth as I climbed. For the hundredth time, my trunk got caught on an exposed root and I had to wrench it free. My shoulder screamed with pain, but I pulled harder. With a loud snap the root gave way, sending me flying. I landed hard right in the middle of a mud puddle.

Slowly, I thought to myself. That’s how Maddox would die. Slowly.

Standing and wiping the mud from my face, I opened and closed my hand to stretch the muscles and get the blood flowing and then rested for a few minutes on top of my trunk. The woods around me were thick with roughthorn trees, and the forest floor was covered with leaves. There weren’t many prickly bushes and weeds, but what were there had found me with ease. It was going to take hours to remove all the woody thorns from my legs. A slight breeze rustled the treetops and several leaves showered down on me. The woods smelled crisp, like fall, even though summer had just begun to fade. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. But I was tired and, as my stomach insisted on reminding me with its gurgles and grumbles, I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, almost seven hours ago.

A sound reached my ears, one that sent a chill through me. Had it been a screech, like the one I’d heard the night that I’d lost my best friend to a monster’s hunger? Or was I imagining things? Exhaustion did funny things
to a person’s imagination, so I wasn’t at all certain that I could trust my senses. I listened for a moment longer, but when I heard nothing but the usual forest noises, I reached down, gripping the trunk’s handle, and turned to continue my trek up the hill. But then I froze in place, unable to even unleash the scream that was building in my throat. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink, taken over by instant terror.

All I saw were teeth. Hundreds of large, sharp, glistening teeth—row after row after row of them—attached to an enormous, animalistic mouth. Just inches from my face and terrifyingly familiar.

“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound any louder than a whisper.” A man’s voice to my left—confident, commanding. I was enormously relieved to hear his voice—at least I wouldn’t die alone. It was easy to follow his instructions, as my muscles had forgotten the basic concept of movement and, at the moment, I wasn’t sure that I had ever possessed the power of speech. Besides, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about—he was giving advice that mirrored my father’s, after all.

I hoped he did, anyway. For both our sakes.

I swallowed my screams and was careful not to move, though my body shook against my will. So much for priding myself on bravery. I wondered if Avery had seen the beast’s teeth closing in on her, or if she’d been attacked from behind, ripped away from life without so
much as a warning. She must have been terrified. Keeping my voice a breath on the wind, I said, “I’ve seen one of these before. It’s a—”

The name escaped me momentarily, largely because a long strand of drool had begun stretching from the creature’s mouth to the forest floor.

His voice was just as soft, his breathing calm and even. “It’s a Graplar, and only half as dumb as it looks.”

The beast growled under its breath, as if it couldn’t quite understand what he’d said, but knew it was insulting.

A Graplar. Of course.

I inhaled and at once I was hit by the rancid, foul breath of the beast before me. It was all I could do not to gag. I had to close my eyes for a moment to stop seeing those horrible teeth, so I’d stop imagining what it must have been like for Avery in her final moments. A shiver crawled up my spine and I resisted the urge to bolt. Something deep inside of me said that he was absolutely right, and that moving right now would be a huge mistake.

Opening my eyes again, I hoped against hope that the thing would be gone. But it wasn’t. I squeaked, “Why hasn’t it attacked us?”

“Graplars thrive on movement. They love the hunt. It’s waiting for us to run.” His voice was stern, but calm, like he’d faced these things a hundred times before. Oddly, there was a modicum of respect for the beast in his tone.

My heart was beating in a crazy panic, but I willed it to steady, to slow. Freaking out would not help at a time like this. In a hopeful, trembling whisper, I asked, “If we stay still, will it go away?”

“No. It’ll just kill us slower to punish us for not running.” It was twisted, but I was pretty sure I heard a smile in his statement. Bemusement. Maybe he thought facing hideous creatures like Graplars every day was just business as usual, but I didn’t find it even remotely entertaining.

“So what do we do?” I knew what my father would have done. He would have grabbed his katana and chased after the beast, not coming back until his clothes were sticky with its blood. And when he did return, his eyes would be alight with a strange fire—one that would simultaneously terrify me and make me very proud. But I wasn’t my father.

“If you want to live, I suggest you do exactly what I tell you, without question. Understand?”

I nodded slowly, wishing I could turn my head even slightly so that I could glimpse the man I’d just agreed to take orders from. The Graplar emitted a low growl, as if chastising me for even thinking about moving any farther.

“On my signal, run north, toward Shadow Academy.”

I was still nodding—as slowly as I could manage—when I said, “Question.”

“I thought I said no questions.”

“This one’s kind of important.”

He released an irritated sigh, which elicited a grunt from the monster that was eyeballing me. “Fine. What is it?”

“Which way’s north?”

“To your right. Past that big tree and straight up the hill.” He paused, letting his instructions sink in. “Are you ready?”

My mouth went horribly dry as I slowly shoved the headmaster’s letter in my pocket and braced myself to run. Then I blinked and whispered frantically, “Wait…I thought you said running was bad!”

“GO!”

A split second before I could move, the man started to run in the opposite direction he’d told me to go. I guessed he was trying to lure the creature away long enough for me to escape. So I dropped my trunk and took off as fast as I could, slipping on the leaves under my feet. Once I had solid ground under my shoes, I bolted up the hill, leaving both the man and the monster behind.

The Graplar didn’t follow him for long.

The ground behind me pounded as the monster made chase after me, the horrible, hungry sound of its breath panting on my heels. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might explode right out of my chest, but I picked up the pace, running faster than I ever had before. Fear gripped me, driving me forward, but I knew
it was just a matter of time before the beast got me, that I was just delaying the inevitable. Once it tired of the chase, or if I slowed down even a little bit, that Graplar was going to grab me by the ankle and drag me off to wherever it preferred to chew its dinner. Or maybe it wouldn’t drag me anywhere. Maybe it’d gnaw the meat from my bones right here.

Against my better judgment, I stole a glance over my shoulder. Its beady, black, soulless eyes stared at me intently as it licked its razor-sharp teeth—all three, ugly, Kaya-chomping rows of them. I flung my arm back, flailing a wild punch into the air. My fist connected uselessly and I kept running.

I picked up speed, remembering what my dad had taught me about fighting something bigger and stronger than you: if you can’t hurt them, outrun them. The sounds of its movement quickened. I felt hot breath on my back, and flecks of spittle—oh God, it was drooling again—spattering against my arms and the back of my shirt. Up ahead of me one fallen tree leaned against another, leaving a triangle of space beneath it. Moving as fast as I could, I fell back and drew one leg under the other, sliding forward. I ducked under the tree and the Graplar leaped overhead. As it flew through the air, watching me more than it was watching where it was going, I dug my foot into the earth and brought myself to standing on the other side. The Graplar turned its head midair, its cold, beady eyes focused on my every
move. It was just starting to wrench its body around when it slammed into a large oak. With a high-pitched squeal it fell to the ground disoriented, shaking its head.

With newly bought time, I took off again, my heart drumming in my ears. Sudden, unexpected confidence surged through me. I was going to make it. I was going to beat this thing. My dad would be proud.

The toe of my shoe found a root and I lurched forward. Down I went, my newfound confidence disappearing in a puff, squeezing my eyes tight as I fell, not wanting to be witness to the monster’s mouth closing over me. I was dead, DEAD if that thing got a hold of me with those enormous jaws and monstrous teeth. Flipping over, I scrambled up the hill in a blind crabwalk, trying to delay what I knew was coming. The beast’s hot, terrible breath was on my face. It stank like rotting meat and spoiled vegetables.

The thing squealed and I clamped my hands over my ears but couldn’t block out the sound. It shook me to the core—its battle cry, no doubt. The last thing I’d hear before I died.

Something slick and wet spattered my cheeks and I let out a scream. Drool. Oh God, it was drooling on me, ready to devour me whole, its razor-sharp teeth closing in…

“You can open your eyes now. It’s dead.” The stranger’s voice again. Calm, cool, collected. As if this was an everyday occurrence.

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did, I opened my eyes. Well, one eye really. The left one. And only halfway. But as soon as I realized he’d taken the Graplar down, I opened both wide. The immense monster was lying no more than three feet from me. Most of it was, anyway. Its head was in the brush several feet to my left. I looked at my savior, who was slipping a katana into the sheath on his back. His silver hair was stuck to his forehead and cheek, held in place by thick, red blood. “It should have known better than to travel alone. For that matter, so should you.”

My hero was dressed in black from head to toe. His pants clung tightly to his legs; his jacket donned patches of armor. He had short, silver hair and dark eyes. His skin was sun kissed, but just barely, and his figure was lean and strong. He was clearly a fighter. And even in the growing darkness, I could see that he was beautiful.

I swallowed hard. “Are you…Maddox?”

I immediately rethought my plans to kill him.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he helped me to stand. After a moment, he said, “No. I’m not Maddox.”

There was clearly offense in his demeanor, and I wasn’t exactly sure what I had done to spark it. I was about to ask when he said, “It’s not safe here. You should get to the south gate before we have anymore unwelcome guests. Graplars like the night life, if you know what I mean.”

A small smile touched his lips then, as if even he couldn’t resist his own charms. I probably would’ve smiled too, if he hadn’t just told me that the danger wasn’t over yet. I wiped at my face, which was still sticky. As I pulled my hand away, I noticed my palm was covered in red. It hadn’t been saliva that spattered me, but blood. Gross. But it could have been worse. It could have been mine. Still shaking, I said, “I don’t even know your name.”

His smile wilted and I felt sorry I’d said anything. I dropped my gaze and noticed the crimson slash on the left side of his chest. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

Instinctively, I reached out my hand to pull the fabric away from the wound. His hand closed tightly over my wrist and our eyes locked. I relaxed, pulling my hand away, but he held fast.

It took me a few seconds to find my voice again. “I was only trying to help.”

After a moment he let go, pushing until I staggered backward, as if he wanted nothing further to do with me. When he spoke, his voice was filled with venom. “I said, go, Kaya.”

Distrusting, I slanted my eyes. “How do you know my name?”

“What part of ‘it’s not safe’ are you having trouble understanding?”

My eyebrows came together in a glare. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

“Listen, damn it. I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you.” His eyes slanted too, like he was trying to outglare me or something…which he was succeeding in doing. “Go.”

I was about to ask him just what the hell his problem was, when there was a loud screech in the trees just down the hill from where we stood. It was followed by growling.

My heart stopped. Oh no. Not another Graplar. I looked around, but saw nothing. When I found his eyes again, all I could do was blink, terrified.

He looked at me as he withdrew his katana and growled, “Go! Up the hill! NOW!”

I took off as fast as I could run. Never mind my trunk with all of my belongings. Never mind the wounded stranger who’d saved my life. I was told to run, and my instincts told me to do so. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I cursed myself for being so afraid, but still I ran, and I didn’t look back.

M
y chest was burning, and it felt like if I kept up the pace I was running at, my lungs were either going to cave in or explode. But I couldn’t stop. The screeching sounds of the Graplar echoed after me in the forest, bringing to mind poor Avery, so I ran, half staggering, until I came to an immense metal door, flanked by what seemed like miles of stone wall. The stones that made up the wall were round and most of them were covered in a lush, green moss, reminding me of the rocks along the Kessler River back home. Vines drew crooked lines up the wall in several spots. I moved to the door and, just as I was debating whether or not I should knock, a small window slid open, and a voice spoke from the other side. “Papers.”