The Book of G, page 15
“What. Was. That?” I grit through clenched teeth. “My ass is numb.”
“Just keeping Belinda fresh. That’s all,” she simpers.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to lie to each other.” I smooth back my hair and stow my mask.
“White lies don’t count.”
“Look who’s wicked now.”
“Oh, please. It was just a quick ride. Aren’t we in a hurry?”
I look behind us, the city already a memory. “I was going to steal croissants and tons of pastries.”
“We don’t need to steal. We have food and coin.” She reaches into the saddle bag and pulls out a stale baguette. I push her hand back and shake it so she releases the old bread.
“I’m good.”
“We’ll get as far east as we can before nightfall. Then we can start tracking the beast.” She snugs her hat onto her head in her usual fashion.
“Are we ever going to talk about your ears?”
She whips her head to the side, looking at me from the corner of her eye. “Did you just request a fast ride again?”
“No, I—”
She grins. “I think you did.” With a cry of “yah!” she kicks Belinda back into a hard pace, and all I can do is hold on and hope that my ass still works once it’s all over.
Chapter
Fifteen
“I’ve got a lead on a hunting party.” Charlie hurries across the muddy street.
The small village of Marnet looks particularly rundown in the morning light, and only a handful of people live here.
“They’ve seen the beast?” I feed Belinda another pear, and she takes it from me with something that approaches trust. She still prefers Charlie, but so do I. I can’t hold that against her.
“Two weeks ago, a boy minding the sheep a few villages to the east said the beast tore three of them apart and dragged one away, loping across the hills until it disappeared.”
“Sounds like a boy let wolves get the sheep and made up a story to keep himself from getting a whipping.”
She mounts Belinda. “I don’t think so. Another hunting party has already come through. They’re on the same trail, and it’s leading us to the woods in Battenbaum’s diary.”
I rub my sore cheeks, last night’s ride still evident in the ache of my tail bone.
“We’ll take it easier today.” She offers me her hand. “Unless you start asking more questions.”
I climb up and settle down behind her. There are plenty of questions I’d like to ask, but trying to get information from Charlie only makes her clam up more. Coaxing doesn’t work either. She’ll only tell me something when she wants to—and those times are few and far between. I sigh.
“What was that for?” She glances over her shoulder at me.
“Nothing.”
She guides Belinda back onto the road as a few farmers peer from their windows, some of them gawking at my face.
I ignore them and squint against the rising sun that peeks over the hills in the distance. The vineyards here aren’t quite as dire as the ones where we’d been trapped by the snow. The climate seems milder, the plants a faint green, as if they’re only waiting for a whisper from Mother Nature to go into bloom.
Charlie yawns and rubs the back of her neck. “I love horses, but once we’re done with this quest, I’m going to spend at least a week off of them.”
“Only a week?”
She pets Belinda’s neck. “I can’t stay away too long. Horses are some of the most intelligent and curious creatures I’ve ever met.”
Belinda snuffles, her ears twitching when Charlie scratches along the darker brown near her mane. I didn’t know it was possible to be jealous of a horse, but here I am wondering why Charlie refuses to pet me.
“Don’t worry, girl, we’ll handle the beast and get word back to Widow Valor. Hopefully, she and all the others who bear that idiotic mark will be able to fully mourn their lost loved ones and start over.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this, all because of Widow Valor’s favorite cock. Who knew one could cause so much trouble?”
She gives me a sober look. “You don’t actually think Widow Valor only misses her husband for his cock.”
I give her an ‘obviously’ look. “That’s what she said.”
“I know that’s what she said, but that’s not what she really meant.”
“That … makes no sense. She misses her husband’s cock. You felt sorry for her because of it, and that’s why we’re going to slay the beast. That’s what I heard, and that’s why we’re here.”
“Are you always so surface on everything?” She smirks. “Yes, yes you are. I don’t even know why I asked.”
I scoff. “You heard her, same as me. She’s sad about his cock. Anything else is just made up nonsense on your part.”
“Or maybe, people are complex with complicated emotions. Maybe some people don’t know how to express those emotions, so they sort of create these little fictions to help them get over a loss.”
I think about what she’s saying, then I get an idea. “You mean Henri didn’t have a great cock, after all?”
“No!” She makes that frustrated sound I love. “I’m saying yes, maybe Henri had a great cock, but Widow Valor was too heartbroken to talk about all the other ways she missed her husband, so she focused on that one thing.”
I nod a little, then stop. “Nope, I don’t buy it. The guy was clearly hung like a horse—I can relate—and she’s upset she can’t ride that pony anymore.”
“No, that’s not why she’s—” She huffs. “Why are you so, so maddening? You know what? Never mind.”
“I think you’re a romantic.” I lean down and rest my chin on her shoulder. “That’s why you’re making this into something it’s not. You’re a romantic who can’t accept all the ways a man’s cock can improve your life.”
She barks a laugh and shrugs me off her shoulder. “You’ve always thought far too much of yourself.”
“No, I know my strengths.” I run my hands down the outside of her thighs. “I think you know them, too.”
“I know you’re good at lying, stealing, obfuscating, chopping wood, making a fire, and …” She taps her finger on her chin. “Yes, I think that’s it.”
I drag my nails back up her thighs, noticing the way she doesn’t stop me. “You know how your insults turn me on. Why must you keep torturing me?”
She laughs, this time the sound is warm. “You’d best get used to it, G. You’re not getting what you want from me.”
“I don’t recall hearing all that when I had my tongue in your mouth.” I nip at her ear. “Twice.”
She elbows me, but not hard. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
“If you say so, Charlie. You can keep fighting it all you want, but you’ll break. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” I lean into her ear again. “That’s a lie.”
Her skin pebbles. “Focus, G.”
“I am focused.” I stare at her.
“On the beast.”
“The one in my pant—Ow!”
She’s elbowed me even harder this time. I grin. Getting under her skin has become my favorite pastime on horseback.
We ride for another hour before I catch the sounds of a party ahead of us. I pull out my mask and fasten it on.
“It must be the hunters.” Charlie gives me a look over her shoulder and increases Belinda’s pace until we come upon a group of about a dozen men, all of them armed.
One at the rear notices us and rides back. “These hills are dangerous at the moment, friends. The Beast of Gevaudon is prowling.” The man, likely no older than I am, pulls alongside us. “Where are you headed?”
“We’re after the beast,” Charlie says.
“You two?” He raises a light brown brow, a look of amusement twisting his lips. “By yourselves?”
“Is that a problem?” I sit up straighter and glare at the man.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head slowly. “No, ah, not at all.”
Charlie pinches me on the leg. “Great. We’d be happy to tag along and help wherever we can. We heard from the locals in Marnet that a shepherd spotted the beast only a few days ago.”
The man clears his throat. “Yes, we heard the same. We’ve been searching for weeks, finding signs of the beast but never encountering the monster itself.” He bows his head slightly. “I’m Luc, by the way.”
“I’m Charlie, and this is G. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Come, I’ll ask Commander Thorpe, but I’m certain he won’t have a problem with more hunters in the group. We need all the help we can get to bring down the beast.” He gives a two-finger wave and rides ahead.
We follow, and I watch as he speaks to the man at the head of the group.
“I don’t like him.” I wrinkle my nose.
“You don’t like anyone.”
“I like you.”
“Other than me, can you honestly say you liked anyone in Sac à Puces?”
I think back over the people I knew there. “Madge.”
“She doesn’t count. She saved your life, and then you almost abandone—”
“Water under the bridge,” I interrupt.
“Mhmm. Other than that, did you care for anyone?”
“Look, we both know the answer to that, but you think it’s my fault, and I don’t. Why would I like the assholes who ridiculed me before I regained my strength? Why would I care for any of those cunts?”
“Not them. But there were others in town you could’ve befriended. People were kind to you. Not everyone, of course, but there were some who pitied—”
“Ah, pity. How big of them to feel sorry for me. I suppose I should’ve kissed their feet and sniffed their chamber pots in equal measure.”
She sighs. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m simply saying you could’ve had friends.”
“Did you have friends?”
She stiffens. “No, but that was my choice.”
“Then why can’t it be my choice?”
“Because you need friends.”
“And you don’t?”
“I’m different.”
“How?” I stroke a hand down the masked side of my face. “I’m pretty sure all the people we’ve met—in Sac à Puces or otherwise—noticed how different I was right off.” I drop my voice. “Hang on, is this because of the ears?”
She cuts me a sharp look over her shoulder. “Don’t talk about them.”
“Why?” I throw my hands up. “I don’t care that they look weird.”
Her mouth drops open in indignation, and that’s when I realize I’ve fucked up.
“Weird?” She glares at me.
“I mean, I think they’re cute, but they don’t look like normal—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” she hisses, her eyes flashing.
“Okay, I get it, you’re sensitive about it. But I’m not normal either.” I pat my mask. “See? We’re the same.”
Her eyes narrow. “Don’t flatter yourself. We aren’t even the same breed.”
“Charlie.” I know I’m only digging myself deeper, but I don’t stop. “I think you’re amazing. The most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. If you—” Someone clears their throat.
I look up to find the entire group of hunters on the road just ahead of us, all of them listening while pretending to be deeply intrigued by something off in the distance.
“Fuck,” Charlie growls under her breath as she turns back around.
“Lover’s spat between you boys?” One of the hunters leers.
“Mind your business, Gerard.” The leader rides back to us. “Welcome. I’m Commander Thorpe.”
“I’m Charlie, and this is G. We’re hunting the beast.”
Commander Thorpe glances at our wrists. I suppose he thinks we must be marked if we’re going on this suicide mission.
The commander, his face scarred and his eyes shrewd, gives us a nod. “Our tracker followed its trail into the Thorny Forest at the edge of Mountfaucon. It’s not a big area, but as far as I know, only one man has gone in and managed to get out alive.”
“Lord Battenbaum,” Charlie says.
Commander Thorpe eyes her more closely. “So you’ve heard his story?”
“I read the section of his diary on the beast. We need to be clever to slay it. Brute force won’t be enough.”
He gives her a look that verges on respect. “Very well. Then you know everything we do. He’s the only surviving eyewitness to what we believe is the beast’s den. It’s deep in the Thorny Forest and lies against the stone cliffs. If we make it to its lair, there is no easy escape for us. No escape at all, truth be told. We either kill it, or it drags us into the dark for good.”
That doesn’t sound like a good deal to me. Not at all. I whisper to her, “It’s not too late to turn around—”
“Let’s go.” Charlie grips Belinda’s reins.
Commander Thorpe nods at her. “We’re going to make camp outside the forest, go over plans and strategies. At first light tomorrow, we go in.” He turns his horse and leads us up the road, his other hunters falling in around us.
Charlie is silent as I inspect the men and their weapons. None of them seem particularly well equipped, at least not for killing the legendary Beast of Gevaudon. If anything, they’re common men from communities nearby armed with axes, scythes, and whatever weapons they could borrow or buy. From cursory glances, I see that some of them bear the mark on their wrists. They’re trying to get their own lives back, so perhaps that means they’ll fight that much harder.
We make camp at the edge of the woods as Commander Thorpe said. The hunters seem to have something of a comradery among them, which I’m all too happy to avoid as Charlie and I set up our bedrolls apart from theirs but still near the fire.
Luc, the first hunter we met, motions to me.
I raise a brow.
“Go ahead. I’m good.” Charlie nibbles a piece of cheese and goes back over Lord Battenbaum’s diary by firelight. “But wait a second.” She looks up at me.
“What?”
“I just, um, I might try something on the hunt tomorrow. Something that might seem odd, but I don’t want you to worry. That’s all.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Not at all. “Try what?”
She waves me away and goes back to her book. “Don’t worry. That’s all I wanted to tell you. Go have boy talk or whatever it is he wants.”
“We aren’t done talking about this.” I point a finger at her.
“Yes, we are. Stop interrupting my reading.” She eats another hunk of cheese. “Go.”
I remember when I used to want to strangle her, and realize sometimes, I still do. But I also know when she isn’t going to budge on something, which is most of the time. Fuck. I follow Luc outside the light of the fire. “What?” I say a little more harshly than I intended.
He peers at the dark woods. “Are you certain you want to bring the boy on this hunt?” he asks.
“Sometimes I’m not.” I run a hand through my hair. “What’s it to you?”
“He’s so young, and our chances of success are … slim, if I’m being honest. I wouldn’t want his death on my conscious when I go to meet our Lord, you know?”
“I’ll worry about Charlie.” I bristle at his interest in her.
“All right.” He shrugs, then reaches down and unbuttons his pants. “I was only asking because I have a brother about his age.” He takes a piss, and I catch a glimpse of his monstrous cock. Not that I was looking—I fucking wasn’t—but that thing is hard to miss. “I’d hate for our mother to lose us both, especially with how young he is. I meant no offense.”
“You’re not married, I take it?” I ask and unbutton my own breaches, taking a piss since the opportunity has presented itself. It’s not because I want him to know I’m equally blessed, if not more so. That would be “childish” according to Charlie, I’m certain. So that’s definitely not why.
“Married? No.” He buttons himself back up. “Not yet, anyway. No one wants to marry a poor rhubarb farmer.”
“I’ll tell you what.” I finish up. “If you live through this, I know someone who’d be very interested in meeting you.”
“A woman, you mean?” he asks.
“Even better.” I turn back toward the fire. “A widow.”
Chapter
Sixteen
The Thorny Forest lives up to its name. We walk into it at daybreak, the air full of mist and not a single breath of wind, and immediately run into a prickly thicket. One of the hunters runs ahead and hacks it with his axe, opening the way for us to pass through.
I keep us toward the back. No need to be an appetizer for the beast when we have a dozen tasty hunters who’ve already volunteered for the job.
Charlie leans to the side and tries to look ahead. “I can’t see a damn thing.”
“Settle down. How far in did Battenbaum say the cave was?”
“He didn’t,” she grumbles.
A thorny branch grabs onto her cloak. I grip it and yank it free.
“Careful.” She grabs my wrist and looks at my palm. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing.” I wipe it on my own cloak. “Keep your ears and eyes open.” I already have my bow in hand, my sword resting against my back as we venture deeper among the trees. After the run-in with the Eater, I’m not particularly fond of shadowy woods, but if this is what it takes to keep Charlie by my side, I’ll brave it a hundred times over.
The hunters aren’t quiet, their steps loud in the creeping stillness. Commander Thorpe’s worn metal breastplate scrapes at intervals, and I wonder how long we have to wait before the beast is upon us.
“Amateurs,” I whisper.
We continue forward for at least an hour, the men taking turns hacking our way through the thorny brambles that seem to sprout up from every bit of free terrain on the forest floor. Some of the vines are thicker than my arm and spiral up the trees, spreading from branch to branch like a huge spider web.
When the sun is finally streaming through the canopy and burning off the fog, we stop for a break. I hand Charlie our water skin and break a savory pie in half to share.
