Dagger in hand, Vel snuck under the tree the hornets buzzed around. They were about the size of a large dog, assuming that dog was big, striped, and ugly. And flew. None of those things helped her nerves the closer she got. Two hornets, one dagger. Terrible odds, yet the ones she faced. So, building up the courage, poising the dagger, she threw it.

  The silvery weapon sailed high, but hitting a flying target seemed impossible by how far she missed. As it arched down, she nervously watched the hornets, hoping that they were dumber than the chickens. Fortunately, they were dumb to an extent, given that they chased the dagger all the way to the ground, then landed, both of them examining it, while Vel remained behind her tree, peeking.

  She looked towards where Sigurd sat on a rock, bow in his hand. He was far too unconcerned in her opinion, but that had to mean that these things should be easy to beat. While the hornets scoured the ground in search of something, Vel crept out from her hiding place, moving slowly towards them, fingernails posed. [Unarmed punch] probably wasn’t a bad idea, but [metal claw] felt like a much bigger weapon to her.

  A twig snapped beneath Vel’s slipper, and both hornets cranked their heads towards her, their massive eyes reflecting her spooked expression. Iridescent wings snapped up into the air, buzzing as the gross bugs lifted off the ground and flew towards her. Vel turned, ducking back behind her tree as the first one zipped by, twisting about when it didn’t immediately see her. The second, however, circled around the trunk she was pressed against.

  It was so hard not to scream when its head collided into her shoulder. While the impact was enough to knock her over, Vel’s own nerves had her jumping so far out of her skin, that she leapt three paces away rather than colliding with the ground.

  [Skill gained: Headbutt]

  [0.5 Strength added]

  [Tough Hide level 4]

  Its littler pincer things twitched as it sped after her, and Vel ducked, shocked that it flew linear, right over her head. She glanced at her dagger, the blade’s glimmer beckoning her back to it. This was her chance, and seizing it, Vel got knocked over by the first attacker, its head harder than stone as it hit her right ribs. Damned thing!

  Gasping in air, she looked at the two hornets, Damned Thing shaking its head like it was reorienting itself, while the other had its stinger poised to stab her. Pushing off the ground, Velmira rolled away, staggering up to her feet as the second one lodged its thick stinger into the ground.

  These things were faster than the chickens, but they clearly overcompensated too much. Vel didn’t know how much longer that would last, but she was so not going to be able to kill these things by raking her nails across their skin. Propelling herself away from Damned Thing, she ran for the dagger, but dropped to the ground when the buzzing grew in intensity. It overshot overhead, narrowly missing from a downward curve.

  That meant they couldn’t fly in a strictly linear manner, but it seemed like it took a lot of effort for it to alter its course, the arc wide and unending until it landed on the ground and crawled forward a few paces. Vel pushed herself up, and while its back was turned to her, dragged her [metal claws] over its back. The skin was firm, almost like dragging her nails over wood, just without the splintering effect. It was enough, however, that Vel winced as much as the hornet recoiled, flying straight forward and overshooting the dagger.

  [Metal Claw level 7]

  [Metal Claw level 8]

  Dashing for the dagger, Vel swiped it, then scowled and yelled as a sharp pain rent through her left shoulder.

  [Skill gained: Poison Stinger]

  [0.5 Constitution added]

  [Tough Hide level 5]

  Poison? No, no, no, not good!

  Vel jabbed her dagger back at the second hornet, now lodged into her shoulder, and stabbed it deep into its gut. While her nails had struggled to move across the skin, the dagger slid in with ease, almost like she’d cut into a thick loaf. As she ripped the dagger free, the hornet released a shrill shriek, and withdrew its stinger, falling to the ground behind her while Vel stumbled toward Damned Thing that was flying in for the headbutt.

  Already pained, she took the attack to her gut, coughing and stumbling back. Expecting it to halt like last time and shake its head, she swung her dagger up, hitting air as it flew back, dodging. Then it charged her with its stinger, utilizing her own overswing against her.

  There was nothing Vel could do, eyes wide as the stinger closed in on her, heart dropping to the pit of her stomach, and mouth dry as she awaited her impending doom. Her own fear reflected back at her in the eyes of her enemy, as well as something small flying in just past her.

  An arrow grazed past Velmira’s hair, the fletchlings brushing past her cheek as it protruded through the damned thing’s head. The hornet fell out of the air, its stinger nicking Vel’s jerkin.

  [Skill gained: Bow Proficiency]

  [0.5 Dexterity added]

  “That was a close one,” Sigurd said, his voice growing as he moved closer. Vel winced when he grabbed her shoulder, shifting it to get a better look at her new wound. “That could have been much worse.”

  “Worse?” Vel asked. “Worse!” She spun around, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. “You could have fired that arrow before I got stabbed in the back!”

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  “Too risky. I don’t have [precise shot] yet. I’m not that good of a bowman. It was already risky of me to fire the shot I did,” Sigurd said. “Besides, we should be worrying about that poison.”

  Right, she’d been poisoned. Vel grimaced. “What is it going to do to me?”

  “You’ll start to feel sick soon, but . . .” Sigurd moved to the hornet that stabbed her, pulling a large hunting dagger from his belt. He sliced into it, Vel having to turn away by the time he was spreading its skin to get to its innards. That alone made her feel sick, and she slowly lowered herself to sit on the ground, wincing at her disrupted wound.

  Her shoulder stung far more than any of the wounds she’d received thus far, and now that the adrenaline was wearing down, her eyes had begun to water from the pain.

  “I should invest in armor,” she said.

  “Probably. I could take the time to train you more, but we risk the church capturing Loverboy the longer we take out here,” Sigurd said.

  “I’m not willing to take that risk,” Vel nodded.

  “You know, it’s more likely that they’ve already visited all the surrounding towns, right?” Sigurd asked, a squelching sound from his project turning Vel green. “We’re really just hoping for luck.”

  “If the church has reached this town of yours you speak of, what are the odds they’d have caught him?” Vel asked.

  “High, very high. But if he was well rested and equipped, he’s a soldier. He probably could have slipped away, moved further west towards the coast,” Sigurd said, a popping sound coming from his direction. “Got it,” he said. “I can use its own poison to make an antidote, just need to collect a few things.”

  Glancing over, Vel shivered, then looked away. “So gross,” she said.

  “You’ll get used to it. Once I cook this thing up, you won’t even know it wasn’t chicken either,” he said, and with green guts across his hands, moved past her and towards a deep green bush. “Feeling sick yet?”

  “I can’t tell if it’s the poison, or you.”

  She really wanted to punch Sigurd again when he chuckled. He pulled at the brambles of the bush and hacked at it. Deep within the bush’s center were small orange berries. After plucking a few, the hunter used his waterskin to rinse his hands a bit before he grabbed a tin dish from his sack.

  “What happens if I don’t get this antidote of yours?” Vel asked.

  “You have a miserable night, but you won't die. Dire hornets usually prey on smaller animals,” he said. “Their poison isn’t designed for anything larger. Now, had you gotten stung a second time, that might have been a different story.”

  Velmira nodded, watching him crush the few items with some herbs from his back, then added water, forming a sort of poultice. He moved, sitting behind her, then began to apply it to her sore wound, Vel clenching her teeth.

  “I sort of thought you were going to make me drink something,” she said.

  “I could. Probably should. You’ll want to hydrate plenty,” Sigurd said, then paused. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Vel asked, furrowing her brow and listening. Was that a dog’s bark? She looked towards the sound, but couldn’t see anything, nor did she even hear the dog coming, save for its bark.

  [Skill gained: Scent Memory]

  [0.5 Acuity added]

  “What?” Vel said, furrowing her brow at the notification. “I just gained a skill━[scent memory].”

  “I was afraid of that,” Sigurd said, then grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. “We need to gain height, and now. Can you climb?”

  “With an injured shoulder?”

  “Can you?” Sigurd asked, voice urgent.

  “With some help,” Vel said, Sigurd pulling her towards a tree. Without waiting, he placed his hands beneath her arms, giving her a boost to get to the first branch. Then he pushed her up the rest of the way as she struggled to pull herself onto the branch. Her nausea was, in fact, worsening by the moment, and each movement aggravated it. Yet, she proceeded to the next branch, shoulder sore as she pulled herself up.

  Grimacing, Velmira was certain that without Sigurd’s help, she wasn’t getting up any further. He was, quite a bit quicker then she at the climb, moving up to the next branch, then giving her a helping hand. Almost entirely on his own, he hoisted her up, moving up several branches until they were a comfortable height from the dogs that ran by below.

  Vel watched, the three dogs sniffing the area out while she sat, legs dangling. Sigurd kept an arm firmly around her shoulders and hand clenching her clothes, his face tense, like he was worried she’d drop at any moment. It was a good worry, given the lightheadedness that was starting to settle in.

  When the black dogs moved to the base of her tree, she tensed, and every moment they were there, the stiffer she became. Then she held her breath.

  Sigurd let go of her, forcing her to cling to the bark to stay upright. He pulled three arrows from his quiver, and nocked one. Then he waited.

  A familiar woman in white robes approached the area, her silver hair standing out against the browns and greens that colored the forest floor.

  Oma, Vel thought, reaching a hand out and clutching Sigurd’s shoulder. Sigurd didn’t move, didn’t even seem to register her hand. Please, not her, she thought. While she shouldn’t have been worried about the hunter taking the life of the woman who wanted her dead; the woman who raised her, she was.

  The high priestess turned, looking back at a few knights in blue, each thin with a sword and bow, likely trackers. Trackers, Vel repeated in her head, retaining a gasp as she remembered.

  Purple Fairy, add Sigurd to Boon of Safety.

  [You have met 1 Sigurd Lyse (Hunter) in your life? Add to allies?]

  Yes! Holy retribution, yes! Do it now! Velmira thought, worry dancing across her face as one of the dogs sat at the base of the tree, a second one still circling it, and the third sniffing out the dead hornets.

  Sigurd pulled back on the string, the silence of his bow and breath eerie as he prepared to end a life. Just like that.

  [Sigurd Lyse has received Allied Boon of Safety]

  The hunter froze, as if time itself froze. Vel spared a glance to him, his eyes locked onto something, unmoving. Hazel orbs darted to her, a knowing look on Sigurd’s face, and he eased up on the string of his bow.

  “The spell isn’t working,” one of the three knights said, moving to mount a horse.

  “What do you mean it’s not working?” Oma scolded.

  “High Priestess,” a second knight said, “Tracking spells have counters and limitations. He means something has changed. Not even the [hunter] is trackable anymore. All three are, according to magic, just gone.”

  The third knight, who had moved to inspect the hornets, stood up. “Then we rely on doing things manually. These hornets were killed recently; they can’t be far, not with one of them stung.”

  “No, that hunter is a regular in these woods,” Oma said. “He’d know how to deal with a dire hornet’s sting.”

  “You’re assuming they’re working together,” the third knight said, sighing. “High Priestess, the hunter you speak of is a recluse. He’s not going to care about your [sacrifice]. It’s more likely that we’re tracking him and not even on the [sacrifice’s] tail.”

  That’s good, isn’t it? Vel thought, second hand moving to hold onto Sigurd as she internally battled it out with her upset stomach.

  “We’re all [tracers], High Priestess. We don’t have a [tracker’s] training,” the same knight said. “Even the dogs have hardly caught on to a girl that’s never bled before her eighteenth birthday. We need to go to Lamone and retrieve a [tracker].”

  Oma huffed loudly, adjusting her robes as she moved to a spot Vel couldn’t see, hidden by too many brambles. “The tracks won’t be as fresh,” she said, hooves stamping the ground as she moved back into view atop a horse.

  “It’s the best we can do.” With that, the knight whistled at the dogs, who abandoned their search. The one just sitting at the tree lingered for a moment longer, then turned, and followed after the three knights and priestess.

  It wasn’t until they were far out of earshot that Sigurd said, “We need to pick an alternate path to Lamone.”

  “Is it faster? Can we beat them to Lamone?” Vel asked.

  “No, we can’t,” Sigurd said, shaking his head.

  “But we have to get to Edard before them.”

  “We can’t, Velmira,” Sigurd huffed. “It’s better that we get there alive, though our odds through the dungeon aren’t much better.”

  “Dungeon?”

  “Yeah, higher level monsters, but no high level tracers to deal with, or whatever that damned priestess is. It’ll pop us out on the other side of Lamone, hopefully away from the prying eyes of the church. It’s at least closer to the [healer]. You’ll draw less attention in your skimpy getup that way anyways.”

  Vel bit her lip. They weren’t equipped to take on three knights and the high priestess, which she could only guess was a high level from Oma’s age alone. She didn’t know what the woman’s class was, which made it all the more dangerous. Most of the priestesses that weren’t some form of [healer] or support class were often something combat related. Vel hadn’t met many of them, given that their duties were most often outside the temple.

  I’m in no condition for that kind of fight . . .

  “We’ll go through the dungeon,” she said.