Metal Slinger by Rachel Schneider

Author:Rachel Schneider [Schneider, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

The pile of dirt I’ve shaped and patted into place resembles a tiny mountain, like Mount Zallis that we learned about in primary school, the tallest point on earth, which magical creatures are rumored to inhabit. I stick a leaf in the top of the dirt, like I’m the first to reach its peak and claim the land.

Who knows? Maybe those creatures are real considering magic exists. It doesn’t just exist—I harbor it. I’m considered an Heir, allegedly ordained by Mother Nature herself.

I crush the mountain with a fist.

“What are you smiling about?” Acker asks.

Looking up, I realize I am smiling as I watch him walk the perimeter of the makeshift campsite. He’s been picking up random sticks, inspecting them, then placing them in specific locations in a circle around us.

“When that school of jellyfish surrounded you.” He couldn’t swim back to the boat any quicker if he had fins.

“It’s a fond memory for you, is it?” he says, accent thicker around the edges.

Dusting off my hands, I fold my feet underneath me. “It’s not my least favorite.”

I catch a glimpse of his teeth as he tries and fails to hide his smile. He must deem the perimeter safe, or safe enough at least, because he issues me an order to stay put and disappears into the woods.

The last remnants of daylight dissipate, leaving the full moon to its full glory. Acker said a fire would draw attention, but he didn’t say anything about magic.

I lift a palm face up. Taking a deep breath, I imagine it glowing like it did when I was afraid of the horse, but nothing happens. I close my eyes and search for that spot where Acker said magic resides and come up empty. Opening my eyes, I pout at the ordinary color of my skin.

A soft breeze catches me by surprise, and I shiver. Warmth envelopes me then, and I look up as Acker drapes a blanket over my shoulders.

“It’s the Dark Forest,” he says. “We’re just beside its border.”

It’s obvious this forest and trolls are common knowledge that don’t require explaining to most people. Acker settles on his bedroll, forearm braced over his knee as he picks through his own food reserves. They look even more abysmal than mine.

“It’s a thatch of forest that sits in the middle of the border between Kenta and Roison.” Goose bumps erupt along Acker’s arms. “It senses we’re near.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

He’s picking through the dried fruit and berries until he finds one suitable for his liking. I find myself fascinated by the flex of his forearms, the tendons and muscles honed to perfection. Arms and hands used for killing, but also snacking.

“You’re safe as long as you don’t go in.”

I can’t help myself. I ask, “What happens if you go in?”

He crunches on a couple of nuts. “You don’t come out.”

I pull my blanket tighter. “Why?”

“No one knows. People go in to never be seen again.” He shoves the handful of food into his mouth, done with the conversation altogether.

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