A thump on the ground was followed by the grating sound of teeth tearing flesh and gnawing on bone.
Bastian stayed silent as he crept away into the forest, still holding Farah tight in his arms, letting the beast he thought he’d killed devour the wife he’d never wanted.
Bastian ran through the fog, not caring which direction he was running, as long as it was away from the beast. Farah clung to him, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. Every few minutes he had to whisper to her to loosen her grasp. If she didn’t, they’d both be in trouble. He needed as much air as he could get.
“How long have you been out here?” he whispered in Farah’s ear.
She answered by sticking her thumb in her mouth. Bastian could hear the sucking sound knocking around his ear. He wasn’t too surprised she didn’t answer. She was more like him than Vinya would ever admit. Quiet and strong. Yes, his daughter was just like him.
When the muscles in his legs screamed at him to stop, Bastian slowed down. It was very different going through the fog without Tressa’s magic owl and its light. Before he could see all of the logs on the ground and the tree branches before they scratched his face. Now success was left up to chance. He refused to slow down and let that thing catch up to them.
It was injured, he knew that for sure. But it wasn’t bad enough to leave them alone. It was still hungry. He wouldn’t let it get his daughter.
“Have you seen Tressa?” he asked her.
Her little head shook no against his chest.
He sighed, but kept running. Tressa’s father told him she’d left for the village. Maybe she’d already made it. He had to believe that. Anything else was too devastating.
Bastian tightened his arm around Farah, reminding himself there were things to live for. People to fight for. Lives worth saving.
From his viewpoint in the tree, he knew Hutton’s Bridge lay at the center of the fog. If he kept running in a straight line he’d either come out in the village or outside the fog. Either was better than staying inside with the beast.
After an indeterminable stretch of hours, Bastian’s lungs began to burn. He gasped for air, swallowing the thick blanket of fog. He stumbled, his feet too tired to go on. Sinking down to a soft patch of grass, he set his daughter on his lap, refusing to let go of her. He couldn’t lose her too.
“Dada?”
“Shh.” He didn’t know how fast the beast could run. Maybe it had already outrun them. Maybe it was hiding just around the next tree. Without knowing, he had to remind her to be quiet.
“Keep walking, Dada.” She crawled out of his lap and tugged on his hand. “Home.”
She was right. They couldn’t stay. Bastian moved to his knees. The pain in his leg from the puncture wound seared through his body. He couldn’t go on. Not without water. Or rest.
He let his hand slip out of Farah’s. The ground crunched as she tiptoed away. Bastian slipped to the ground and closed his eyes.
Chapter Thirty-One
Tressa stumbled into the first inn on the edge of town. The Rooster’s Wattle. It would do. She pushed open the door and was greeted by the warm scent of freshly baked bread and porridge cooking in a pot in the hearth.
The innkeeper stood behind the bar, wiping it down with the edge of his apron. “Need a room, lass?”
“No, sir. A job, if you please.” Tressa cast her eyes toward the dirty floor. Bowls still sat on the table from the meal the night before. Yes, they needed help, as she’d hoped. The outside was in disrepair too. They didn’t have much, but she was willing to work for cheap. Any innkeeper would find that attractive.
“Why should I hire you? Where is your family?”
Tressa sighed and rubbed the side of her neck. “My father cast me out only a few moments ago.”
The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Tressa pulled back the hem of her gown to reveal the love bite Bastian had left. “He accused me of being a trollop.” She looked up, eyelashes fluttering. “It was only a small dalliance with a solider.” She tugged on her hair. A giggle passed over her lips. It felt forced, but the innkeeper wasn’t focused on her laugh once she’d exposed her cleavage.
“I could use some help around here. It would help business to have an attractive young maid serving the men who stopped in. Are you against showing a little skin?”
“Will I get more tips?” She flashed him a brilliant smile.
He laughed. “It’s almost guaranteed.”
“And will I have a place to sleep?”
His eyes darted to her chest again. She knew what he wanted. He reminded her too much of Udor. Luckily she knew exactly how to manipulate him.