“Hey! That’s my chickcharney,” I shout as the bird monster runs for its life.
“Nope!” Rhydd yells back. “You set the rules, Rowan. Remember?”
The last time we hunted, Rhydd had found the target—a hoop snake—first, but then he’d lost it, and when I captured it, he cried foul. So this time, I’d made a rule that being the first to find a monster did not mean it was yours. I’d meant that you couldn’t claim a target after you’d lost it. Apparently, I hadn’t been specific enough.
“You can still catch this one,” Rhydd calls. “Just beat me to it. You’ve got a pegasus.”
I grumble under my breath. He knows I can’t ride Sunniva yet.
“I’m sure Malric will give you a lift,” Rhydd shouts as they disappear in a cloud of dust.
The warg fixes me with a look that dares me to try it.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
Malric lifts his paw from Jacko, who leaps up and stands, poised on all fours, back straight, looking at me and chirping, as if offering his services as a mount. I chuckle and scoop him up.
Rhydd’s right—I made the rules—and this is just a game. He’ll crow over his victory, but the next time we hunt, he’ll be the one who adjusts the rules to be more fair.
I really shouldn’t have wagered that the loser had to attend the boring state luncheon tomorrow. I wouldn’t have agreed if my fellow monster hunter in training, Dain, hadn’t sworn he had a foolproof method for capturing chickcharnies. Now Rhydd and Alianor will catch a chickcharney first, and I’ll be stuck at that luncheon. I could get my revenge by insisting Dain join me, but the only thing worse than sitting through those speeches would be sitting through them with Dain grumbling beside me.
A horse tears past to my left, on course to help Rhydd. The rider is a girl with light-brown skin and braided light-brown hair, her blue eyes glinting. It’s Alianor, my friend and Rhydd’s partner on this hunt.
Alianor waves as she passes.
I sink to the ground. “At least someone’s partner stuck around.”
Jacko hops onto my lap, looks into my face and chirps. I scratch behind his antlers. “Yes, you stuck around. Dain, however, did not.”
When Jacko hisses, I twist and notice Malric staring behind me, his narrowed gaze fixed on something that requires his attention, but not his concern.
A boy creeps through the long grass. He’s my brother’s height but thinner. His ebony hair is tied at the nape of his neck and his skin, a shade darker than mine, almost blends with the shadows cast by the long grass.
“Trying to sneak up on me?” I say to Dain.
“No point with those two glaring at me.”
“Malric’s just watching you. It’s Jacko who’s glaring. They’re my bodyguards for when my human partner doesn’t stick around. I’m teaming up with Alianor next time.”
“Oh, so I guess that means you don’t want this?” He lifts a burlap bag. Inside it, something peeps in alarm.
I scramble to my feet. “You caught a chickcharney?”
He carefully lowers the bag around the bird, holding it in place. I see a familiar black spot on its beak.
“You caught my chickcharney,” I say. “The one I was hunting.”
“The one we were both hunting. You were luring it in while I was setting a trap in case it got spooked. Or in case your blasted bunny tried to attack it.”
Jacko chitters at him, teeth flashing.
“First your jackalope, and then your brother,” Dain says. “It was pretty much a guarantee that something would spook your chickcharney, princess.”
I squint out over the long grass. “So if you caught my target, what are Rhydd and Alianor chasing?”
“I have no idea.”
I laugh and crawl over to examine the chickcharney. Dain crouches over it as we study the specimen. Dain might not seem excited by the creature, but his dark eyes gleam with interest, and he lets strands of hair fall into his face without impatiently shoving them back. We study the beast and discuss it, and I sketch it for my journal as Dain holds it without complaint.
Then we prepare to release it. Alianor will grouse about us not proving we caught it—being from a bandit clan, she always expects a trick. Yet Rhydd knows I wouldn’t lie, and a training exercise is no excuse for traumatizing a beast.
I carry the chickcharney a reassuring distance from my beasts. I may also give it a cuddle. A very small one, and only because it’s already snuggled into my arms. I bend and set it down with murmurs and feather-strokes. It peeps, running its tail along my arm as if petting me back. I give it one last suet pellet for the road. Then I rise and step away.
The chickcharney tilts its owl head, looking at me. Then it peeps, hops closer and wraps its tail around my leg.
“No, princess,” Dain calls.
I glance at him, my brows rising.
“No, you do not need a pet chickcharney,” he says.
I roll my eyes and give the beast another pat before I try to back up again. That delicate but strong tail tightens around my boot.
“Absolutely not,” Dain calls. “You’re a monster hunter, not a monster collector. Stop taking them home.”
I glower his way. “I have never taken a beast home. They follow me willingly. Well, except that one.” I hook my thumb at Malric, who watches us with baleful yellow eyes.
“And the gryphon?”
I straighten indignantly. “That is not the same, and you know it.”
Before I could become the royal monster hunter–elect, the council insisted that I hunt down the gryphon that killed my aunt and wounded my brother. While I was training for that, the gryphon found us. I hadn’t trusted the council to believe I killed it, so we brought it back to the castle alive, where we’d discovered it was pregnant and decided to let it live so we could study both mother and baby.
So, yes, technically, I brought the gryphon home. Still…
“It’s not the same thing,” I say again.
Dain shrugs. “If you insist, princess.” His face stays serious, but I don’t miss the amusement twinkling in his eyes. I huff and turn to the chickcharney.
“I’m not taking it home,” I say. “Now, if it were an orphaned baby that wanted to follow me, then it would be an excellent opportunity to study—”
“No.”
I glare at him. “I said baby, which this is not.” I crouch and unwrap the chickcharney’s tail from my leg. “You’re fine. If you ever see me again, feel free to say hello, but you belong out here.”