Red Hood's Revenge

power. Others believe him to be a mortal king who insulted a fairy lord and was cursed for his rudeness. The church describes them as servants of God, sent forth to harvest the souls of the damned. They say Arathea has fallen into sin, and the Hunt is God’s punishment. Until tonight, the Hunt has mostly been attacking the Kha’iida tribes, avoiding the cities.”
    “Kha’iida?” asked Danielle.
    “Nomads,” said Talia, thinking of Faziya. Few Kha’iida ever left their tribes. Faziya had never spoken of her reasons for turning her back on her people.
    Snow pulled a mirror from her choker and concentrated. Her face brightened. “Beatrice! Is Trittibar around? The Wild Hunt is after Talia, and we could use some help figuring out how to fight them.”
    “You’ve been gone less than a day,” Beatrice protested. “How in the name of—no, I don’t want to know. Is everyone all right?”
    While Snow consulted with Beatrice, Talia turned back to Roudette. “I won’t let the Hunt destroy this place.”
    “You speak as though you have a choice,” Roudette said, her expression distant. “My cape will hide you for the moment, but now that the Wild Hunt has marked you as their prey, they will find you, and they will destroy everything in their path until they do.”
    “If Zestan has the power to set the Hunt on my trail, she can also turn them away.” Talia held her sword to the lamp’s light, studying the edge. “All we have to do is find her and persuade her.”

CHAPTER 10

    T HE CAPE NEVER WORKED IN HER DREAMS.
    Roudette stood at the edge of the woods. Three steps would take her beyond the trees to the road, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.
    Fire had torn open the sky, and the riders thundered forth like the vanguard of Hell. Their dogs howled as they raced ahead. Their cries never wavered; the beasts of the Wild Hunt never drew breath. Roudette covered her ears, trying in vain to block the sound. Urine spread down her thighs.
    Windows and doors swung open. A few brave souls stepped outside to see what was happening.
    “Don’t run.” Her voice wouldn’t carry. She tried again, but fear had stolen her voice. She could only watch as they turned to flee, only to be run down.
    The first to fall was Vaughan, an older man and a hunter in his own right. He raised a short wooden bow, but before he could draw the string, an arrow punched through his mouth.
    His death spread panic through the village. Roudette’s friends and neighbors poured from their homes like rats fleeing a fire. One by one, the Hunt chased them down.
    Roudette pulled the wolfskin over her shoulders, but nothing happened. She had to reach her family. She had to save Jaun. The rest would die, but she could still save her brother. She could see herself dragging him into the woodpile, protecting him with her body as she deliberately pulled the firewood down about their heads. Somehow she had sensed that the Wild Hunt lived for the chase, that if they tried to run, the Hunt would chase them down.
    Only the wolfskin had no power in her dreams, and her body wouldn’t obey.
    And then she was in a different town, close to the border. She and Jaun cowered in the chapel, listening to the howling that had never really stopped since that night a month before when the Wild Hunt destroyed their home.
    “They’re after me,” Roudette whispered, pulling the skin around her body. She had finished sewing the fur to her cape that very afternoon, combining the power of her grandmother’s gift with the protections woven into the cape. “I’ll lead them away.”
    “Don’t go.” Jaun’s filthy hand clamped around hers.
    “No matter what happens, don’t try to flee.”
    “Don’t leave him!” Her dreamself heard nothing but the hounds as she set out into the night.
    Gentle shaking jolted her awake. She gasped and slapped Danielle’s hand away.
    “You cried out in your sleep.”
    Roudette dug her fingers into the cape, feeling the wolf’s strength, letting its anger and hunger wash over her. She closed her eyes, listening to the howls from the street. The sound never stopped. “I thought they had come for me.”
    For a month the Wild Hunt had pursued them. Roudette had killed one of their number, and she believed they meant to avenge that death, but revenge was human. They cared only for finishing the hunt, and that night they had come for Jaun. “They never tire. They never stop, and they will kill anyone who comes between them and