It’s #bookqw and unusual ‘regret’ makes our hero pause.
More from a point in the story where our heros can’t eliminate a mysterious pest that is devouring the autumn harvest, and have trouble with renegade hands hired to help them.
Read on in Chapter 25:
Jac blew out an exasperated puff of air, clearly ready to vent now that she’d slept a few hours. “Though Paet finally kept to his assigned section, the bastard found every excuse to complain: how the team should be run, the fields divided and the assignments rearranged. He reported catching almost as many as Maxillon, but how many more pests would be dead if he’d just focused on hunting them?”
Guilt churned Daeryn’s gut. He darted a look to Rivley, who’d stepped back out of Jac’s line of sight. His best friend shook his head. Daeryn clenched his hands and did the same, showing sympathy while his instincts screamed. With his foot healed, he could run. He could resume his leadership. With their team numbers increased, the bastards would behave and they’d clear their fields. “Maybe tonight will be better? Second time out, getting the lay of the sections, the rhythm of the rotations.”
“Maybe.”
Her shoulders sagged, and she didn’t look him in the eye, but most telling was her agitated scent. Jac was hedging her bets. Daeryn knocked her boot with the tip of one crutch.
Her lip curled. “Instead of being able to do much hunting of my own, I’m trotted around in circles,” Jac blurted out. “And the bastard delights in sneaking up on me. You’d think it’d be impossible with wings the size of bedsheets, but that leathery skin is as quiet as owls’ wings. I feel his gaze first, and it’s like Paet knows I have. By the time I turn, he’s swooping down, landing and changing, always one step ahead of me. Once, he caught a creature feet from me.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “It made me ill, seeing him tear…”
“Are these bat things flying canines or felines, then?” Rivley asked before Daeryn could, though he hoped his voice wouldn’t have come out pitched that high.
“Canine.” Jac wrinkled her nose. “Both show so much wolf in their changing forms, it’s like being among my gran’s pack again, and believe me, that’s not a pleasant feeling either.” Her body shuddered like it was in ’cambire form. “Anyway, the point is Paet treats the job like a lark, and Maxillon nearly so. Far into the middle section, we’re seeing vermin regularly.” Her head lifted. “We’re not stopping them, Dae.”
His gut twisted tighter. “But you’re catching—”
“Paet had me so turned around, I wasn’t sure until I’d slept. I just told Miz Gere more have to be arriving. On the wing, those ropens have the better view, so I’ll ask them to compare last night with tonight’s numbers.”
“Maraquin?”
“Will hunt tonight.” Her gaze dropped to his injured foot. “But not you. Or Terrent.”
Hell, for the first time in the two and a half years Daeryn had been on the team, Jac’s voice actually carried a note of regret. At least he’d had plenty of time this morning to think about how to help, and how to return.
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Victorian contraptions. Enchanted farmlands. Can a struggling orphan switch gears and run full steam into freedom?
The Unraveling is the first volume in a serialized novel that is complete in three volumes, called The Luminated Threads.
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Because Daeryn and his team of night guards work at night, to set the mood here’s today’s pre-dawn photo from my walk. We exercise early to practice safe social distancing.
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