Ombira had waited too long, and her prey had grown near enough to sense, now. She could almost smell them.

  Mantis knew she had to make haste as soon as she opened her eyes to the still awakening day. Overnight, her Goddess’s push, that primal urge to hunt which felt as though it originated within her own soul, had become unbearable.

  The feeling was so constant, and had been a part of her for so long, that Mantis had become adept at ignoring it, like a chronic pain one learned to somewhat tolerate. But there were occasional flare ups, and the one Mantis was experiencing now had the strength to turn her into a savage creature with one single-minded goal.

  It wasn’t the amount of time that had passed since her last hunt that was the issue. Mantis regularly secured only a couple of souls for her Goddess over the course of a week, often even longer. What had ignited Ombira’s wrath this time was Mantis’s resistance and disregard for her duty.

  First, she’d provoked her Goddess when she’d chosen to avoid the target in that village on the way to Okedam, for no better reason than to spare Teela the traumatizing experience. Mantis had thought it a reasonable price to pay, to suffer the agonizing hunger in order to keep the girl from witnessing something she’d never be able to forget. And perhaps, she admitted to herself, she had not wanted to be observed in such a state. Her task was her own, and so were the gritty details of her vile life.

  Nobody else had a right to behold that necessary ugliness, that fair trade of evil for evil. It belonged only to Mantis.

  But now Ombira could sense her servant’s traitorous intentions for the next two targets she’d pinpointed for her, and that was a more serious offense in every regard. It was Ombira’s direct order that her loyal subject should go east to obtain two souls for her consumption, two rich, nurturing lives that she wanted for herself, and Mantis’s obligation was to convert them into sustenance and bring them to her without question. That was the exchange they’d agreed upon, thirty years ago.

  It was their unbreakable, life-long oath, one that Mantis had used her very soul to seal when she’d summoned Ombira to that forest in Renlym and pronounced herself a servant with the deity’s name on her lips.

  Her Goddess needed those lives to sustain her, and desired them for the bright power they harbored within themselves. Mantis intended to give them away to another. And worse, she would not stop at that traditionalist village to get her the stray target she’d earlier ignored on the way back to Pirn, either. Mantis had resolved to push back against her hunger and force herself to travel directly to Teela’s hometown, once she’d accomplished the Sea God’s task.

  She would return the girl to where she belonged before resuming her duties as the Mantis of Yriaa. It could be done, and so it would be done.

  But Mantis would have to pay for that disobedience.

  With a clenched jaw and tensed muscles, she donned her dirty cloak and set out to awaken the members of their little ragtag group, demanding to get moving immediately. They each had a few bites of their meager supplies of food and tried awkwardly to extinguish any rising physical needs before departing. Mantis knew it was not fair, but she glared impatiently at every new delay that arose regardless of how reasonable and hasty they tried to be for her sake. Her mood was black.

  In what felt like a tediously long time, they were able to mount their horses and get started at a steady trot along the coastline.

  Yilenn rode sidesaddle in the front atop Otto with Mantis’s arms reaching around her middle to hold the reins. Her blue dress no longer looked immaculate, but now displayed some minor signs of use from the night spent in the woods. Some dirt had made its way onto the full mounds of gauzy fabric and stained, most visibly, the hem of her skirts. It wouldn’t be a problem, Mantis knew, for the siren would not be able to return to her home wearing the same luxurious attire she’d left in. Nonetheless, it felt wrong to let her ruin such an exquisite, costly gown so carelessly.

  As they advanced at a swift but tolerable pace for the horses, Mantis tried to keep her eyes on the vegetation for game to catch along the way, but kept getting distracted by the siren in her arms. The very smell of her was an intrusion to her focus. Her flowing mane of red hair shone vividly in the morning light, and her intricate dress with its gleaming white pearls along the rounded neckline contrasted too sharply with the monochromatic path and surrounding greenery.

  “I have a change of clothes.” The words came out of Mantis’s mouth.

  Yilenn didn’t respond at first. She only adjusted her position slightly to look back at her face. At such close proximity, the sheer flawlessness of the siren’s every feature seemed almost impossible to Mantis. Her eyelashes were long and thick and symmetrically spread, as if she’d combed them. Her skin had the texture of finely worked ceramic and was almost uncannily even in tone, with a scatter of light brown freckles on her nose and cheeks that looked as calculatedly placed as the stars in the Moon’s night sky. Her eyebrows of deep red contrasted with the swirling indigo of her gaze, and the thought of a masterful painting come alive was summoned to Mantis’s mind when Yilenn blinked those beguiling blue eyes at her.

  Such entrancing perfection and smoothness.

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  The complimentary blend of her colors, the intentionality to her every pore and hair, Mantis could not look away from any of it. She felt an attraction so intense, so unnatural, that any thought beyond that God-sculpted beauty started to dissipate into the background of her awareness.

  “Stop that!” Mantis suddenly complained, shaking her head aggressively to try to clear her addled mind.

  “Stop what?” Yilenn was frowning.

  “Stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing. I was trying to say, I have spare clothes you can wear, if you don’t want to ruin that dress.”

  Yilenn stared at her for a long moment with her neat red eyebrows still cinched. Then, she looked down at herself assessingly and nodded a little. “I am ruining it, aren’t I? I didn’t know how…muddy this whole ordeal would be.”

  “You didn’t guess that traveling on horseback and sleeping outside for two days would be dirty?” Against her will, a muscle on Mantis’s cheek twitched and her mouth formed a small smirk.

  “I suppose I didn’t give it much thought. I’d never ridden a horse before, so I wanted to see what it was like. I won’t be able to swim like this, anyway, when the time comes. I will have to discard this dress, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  “I’ll hold onto it for you. I’m sure I will find myself in Okedam again sooner or later. I can return it to you then.” Yilenn seemed surprised for an instant, and then smiled warmly at her with a slow nod. Mantis turned aside to the vegetation for hints of prey. “So change out of that when we dismount later.”

  “All right.”

  But the siren stayed looking at her. Mantis could feel her piercing eyes on her face like a physical touch.

  A rabbit ran across the path ahead of them then, and Mantis’s index link shot out of her finger before she’d even had enough time to release a pent-up breath. The small animal’s dead body flew toward her awaiting hand as the black protrusion retreated back into her flesh and, stupidly, she held it there for a long moment, dangling. She was strangely unsure of what to say or do.

  When Yilenn only continued to stare with wide eyes and faintly parted lips, Mantis was able to break out of her odd daze after riding in a state of bizarre uncertainty for a few breaths. She reached over to tie the limp carcass from a hook on the side of the saddle. The siren at last stopped observing her and turned her head toward the path in front of them, and Mantis resolved to dedicate the rest of the day to acquiring more food and keeping her focus sharp.

  The Sun reached over and above them throughout the morning with only a hint of cloud cover peeking out in the distance, and Mantis tried to maintain a healthy yet quick pace. They alternated between a canter and a trot for most of the way, and allowed their horses to walk at intervals when tall trees offered some shade. Her hunt yielded three more plump rabbits over the course of the early day.

  Then, in a lucky turn for their mixed group, a skinny streamlet of freshwater came into view among the shrubbery to their left. They dismounted and walked over to the dense vegetation to drink and water the horses, and used the opportunity to relieve themselves in the thick cover of the plants and bushes.

  “Here.” Mantis rummaged in her small pannier and pulled out her spare set of tunic and leggings. The garments were unassuming and basic, purchased for a very reasonable sum in a charming traditionalist village in the midlands of Yriaa. She only ever wore them in the privacy of her chamber when she stayed at inns, or when her usual garments were being washed. The expectation of seeing elegant Yilenn in her peasant’s clothes, men’s clothes, no less, brought a sly smile to Mantis’s face.

  The siren saw that, and returned her mocking smirk with a peculiar glint in her eyes. She reached over to grab the bundle of clothing from her hands and said “Thank you kindly,” in a lilting, playful voice. Then she turned around and lifted her hair away from her back. “Could you help me with the ties, please?”

  Leroh had finished pissing behind the trunk of a spindly tree and started walking back to the horses when he caught sight of his sister at work on the nearby brambles. He approached her skeptically at first, then his eyebrows shot up with surprise when he realized what she was doing.

  “There’s blackberries!” She smiled widely at him when he arrived at her side. “Help me collect as many as we can before we get going again.”

  He rushed to follow her lead. “I love these. Mother never lets me have them.” Leroh picked a mouthful of berries and chewed slowly as he continued to collect the juicy fruit. They spent some time filling their hands as heavily as they could and then started making their way back to where they’d all split up earlier.

  He was oddly excited to carry such a large amount of free food in his hands. He’d always thought of berries and other sweet delicacies as a sort of prohibited thing, only to be purchased for tavern menu items and consumed by customers.

  For as long as Leroh could remember, his mother had had an optimistic expectation for the spring and summer. The profits earned from the seasonal wildberry tarts and other sweet dishes she served in the warmer time of year were substantial, he knew, for those willing to buy a dessert certainly had money to spare. Or so Mother always said. It was an indulgence, a decadent pleasure that only the well-off could afford. And they always did, when she baked them.

  Leroh had only been able to taste the sharp, tangy flavors a number of times throughout his life, and had even received a slap or two in his boyhood for dipping a finger in a pastry fresh out of the oven in search of the reddish purple color that characterized the blackberries. Now, he leaned over his hands to grab a few with his mouth.

  Something about the act felt furtive, forbidden, and that feeling only made the fruit taste better on his tongue.

  When he saw Clover and the Mantis’s black horse in the distance, he hurried to reach them. If they could drop their load of food with the other supplies quickly, perhaps there would be enough time to return to the brambles and forage some more before they departed. The bush had been heavy with fruit perfectly ripe for the picking.

  Upon arriving, however, Leroh froze in place. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he reached the horses. His hands fell limp and the precious berries fell scattered on the grass at his feet. He did not care.