Chapter 3: Theft

SIENNA

Dawn brings with it an icy air and the rancid smell of alcohol lingering in the cabin. Father is gone. We don’t know where or for how long, but that only means one thing—we can move without fear.

Astrid kneels by the fireplace, carefully brushing away the cold ashes. Her black hair, still damp from her morning wash, falls in a braid over her shoulder. I, on the other hand, tie my red mane into two tight braids and check the floorboards where we hide the little that belongs to us.

—If we leave tomorrow, we can’t take much.— I say, pulling out a small fabric pouch filled with the coins we’ve saved from selling pelts.

Astrid looks up, her hands covered in soot.

—Then we take what we need. No more, no less.—

I look at her. I know what she means.

—Are we stealing the carriage?—

She nods.

From the window, we can see the dirt road leading to town. Every night, just before dawn, a carriage loaded with supplies passes by on its way to the neighboring city. Sometimes with just a driver, sometimes with two guards. It’s not always escorted, and today we’ve seen that only one man is aboard.

The plan starts taking shape in my head.

—When night falls, we move. We’ll need supplies, money, and a horse.— I slide the pouch of coins into my belt. —If we do this right, we’ll be gone before anyone notices.—

Astrid wipes her hands on her dress and steps closer, pressing her forehead against mine. It’s her silent way of saying she trusts me.

We are not victims.

We are hunters.

And this will be our last hunt before we disappear.

The night falls like a black shroud over the forest. We move through the shadows, synchronized like two felines stalking their prey. Astrid has her cloth bag slung over her shoulder, filled with small vials of liquid that can put a man to sleep in seconds. I keep my knife strapped tightly to my belt and my bow slung across my back, ready for any surprises.

From our position in the underbrush by the road, we watch the carriage approach, its wheels creaking against the damp earth. There is only one driver—a burly man with an unkempt beard and a thick cloak to shield himself from the cold.

—Just one.— I whisper, a faint smile forming. —Almost too easy.—

Astrid pulls out a vial of translucent liquid.

—Don’t kill him unless it’s necessary.—

I roll my eyes.

—Only if it’s necessary.—

We wait. We watch him stop at the bend in the road, right where the fog is thickest. He climbs down from the seat and stretches his back, rubbing his hands against the cold. Just as planned.

Astrid moves like a shadow to the carriage, pouring the vial’s contents into the water flask hanging from the driver’s seat. I stay close, watching for any movement. If the man turns, if he even hints at noticing us, I’ll take him down before he can raise the alarm.

A minute later, the man climbs back up. He takes a long drink from his flask, and within ten minutes, his body begins to tilt to one side.

—Sleep well, idiot.— I murmur just as his head slumps against the seat.

Astrid is already inside the carriage, rummaging through the supply bags.

—We have bread, dried meat, blankets...— Her voice is calm, but her hands move fast. —And money. A lot of money.—

I move to the front wheel and slide my knife against the ropes securing it. It won’t snap immediately, but with the carriage’s movement, it won’t take long to collapse.

—Good. Now the horse.—

I untie the reins and swiftly mount the animal. Astrid climbs behind me without hesitation.

Then, something shifts in the air.

A shiver runs down my spine.

—Do you feel that?— Astrid asks, gripping my waist.

Yes. Something is watching us. Something we can’t see yet, but it’s there.

—We’re leaving.— I say, digging my heels into the horse’s sides.

The animal neighs and bolts through the trees just as something moves in the darkness behind us.

We don’t stay to find out what it is.