But Eric didn’t have the Spirit Elementals helping.
She urged the horse into a canter; he didn’t like running in the dark like this, but he obeyed her. They sped down the edge of the forest — this was definitely Sebastian, and not a wolf, for a wolf would have gone to cover immediately, but Sebastian was trying desperately to find something he recognized as a trail. Thorn’s ribbon flew on, as fast as a man could run, or faster, and he didn’t seem impeded by the snow at all — that ribbon is going to get lost in the snow and the dark, she realized, and impulsively seized a “handful” of magic and flung it after the vanishing bow like a snowball. Light! Follow! she willed, and the little sphere of power lit up with a mild glow, following the servant as if it had been tied to Thorn by a tether.
She made another and tossed it above her head; now the horse could see where he was going. He snorted, and answered her rein and heel with eagerness instead of reluctance.
She had never seen one of the Spirit Elementals out in the snow before; it left no trace on the top of the snow, and sped along as if it was completely unimpeded. The horse caught up to the ribbon just as it flitted through a gap in the underbrush and down a trail. The horse was barely keeping up. It plunged through snow that was at times chest-high, but her urgency had passed to it, and it did so without hesitation or complaint.
Thorn seemed to know exactly where to go, and the few times that Bella was able to spot anything like a track, the prints did look like wolf tracks, and there was blood spotting the snow, black in the dim light from her orbs.
Chill that had nothing to do with the cold wind cutting through her coat and numbing her hands and feet came over her.
I’m never going to find him in this forest if he hides… What if he bleeds to death? Werewolves healed immediately from most wounds, but not those caused by silver, and the crossbow bolt that Eric had fired had been tipped with silver.
But the Spirit Elemental was still speeding over the snow, and there were three more out there somewhere, tracking Sebastian. Sebastian wouldn’t see them, not in his panicked state, and she didn’t think he would scent them, either. She had to believe in them, believe that they could keep up with him, that they could find him, if he got out of their sight.
Then, abruptly, the track turned off the path and into the deeper snow. The track twisted and turned and doubled back on itself; if the wolf wasn’t in charge, then Sebastian was using incredible cunning. That wasn’t likely; the man had fled Eric in fear of his life, but this was the sign that animal terror was driving him now.
So again, it wasn’t Sebastian, it was the wolf. That made it doubly dangerous, not just for her, but for him. Sebastian would surely have stopped somewhere and hidden if he were in command, knowing that the more he ran, the more blood he would lose. The wolf didn’t know that. All it knew to do was flee.
Her heart contracted with fear, and she sobbed.
The horse’s sides heaved, and there was a foam of sweat on his neck as he labored through the snow. How long had they been running? It all blurred into a nightmare of shadows and snow and an agony of fear. Her mind was full of nothing but pictures of what could happen — finding Sebastian dead, or dying. Eric finding him first and killing him. Never finding him at all. If he transformed to a man at dawn, he would be out here, lost, naked and wounded. The cold would kill him without any need for Eric to act further. Eric would be entirely blameless.
Why is Eric trying to murder Sebastian? I thought he was Sebastian’s friend!
She clamped her lips down on a moan of grief.
Then Thorn put on another burst of speed, dashing ahead. Bella urged the horse forward; it surged into a clearing. The light-orb flared, movement at the far edge of the clearing caught her eye as the orb circled and there was Sebastian, turned to stand at bay inside the hollowed trunk of an enormous tree.
He was exhausted, eyes dull, trembling in every limb, but he still brought up his head and growled.
She pulled the horse to a stop.
The horse heard the growl and threw up his head, eyes rolling, but remained steady. It was very quiet in this clearing; there was nothing but the sound of the horse dancing a little in place with nervousness and blowing hard, and that low, warning growl. Her heart pounded, her mouth was dry and the growl evoked a chill in her blood as old as time.
She stared at the wolf. It stared back at her with no recognition, only pure terror and hysterical defiance.
I might have to shoot him.
She felt for her crossbow, for the arrows. They were still there.
Can I shoot him?
The wolf pulled back his lips from his teeth, snarling at her. Every time she moved a little the snarl got louder.
But her crossbow bolts were plain wood and steel. If she shot him, he’d start to heal immediately.
I might have to —
Without the silver tips that Eric had on his arrows, if she shot him, she’d hurt him, but not for long. Enough time for her to get out of reach, maybe.
She made sure the little crossbow was in the sling at her side, and the quiver still on her belt. Slowly, deliberately, she eased herself off her horse, and sought for magic as the wolf sang a song of animal terror.
The night lit up with magic, more than she had ever seen before. There was plenty here to do what she needed to do, swirling and eddying around Sebastian, around herself. More than enough to try to wake the man again. She began gathering it to her, walking one slow step at a time toward the wolf, sinking up to her calves in the soft snow with every step.
I can’t move fast in this snow, she realized, fighting down shakes and the overwhelming desire to forget this folly, to turn and run, as she had run the night that Sebastian bit her. No one could move fast in this. If he rushes me —
She clamped down on the fear. She dared not fear him. She had heard that animals could smell your fear, and it made them want to attack you. She had to be afraid for him. “Sebastian,” she said, over the low growl coming from the tree trunk, where the wolf had squeezed in so far back she could barely make out the shape of him, the glinting teeth and the shining eyes, even with the help of the orb. “Sebastian, it’s me. It’s Bella.”
She took another step closer. The growl took on a pitch of hysteria.
“Sebastian, you have to remember. You know who you are. You’re not some monster. You’re a man, and a wizard. Come back to me, Sebastian.” She pushed a wave of magic power in front of her, and the Light Sphere brightened in reaction.
But there was some barrier between the magic and Sebastian. It had been there before, but it was much stronger now. She had to get the power past whatever it was that was blocking her from helping him. She pushed harder. The magic crowded into the tree trunk, surrounding Sebastian, glowing a faint gold. The wolf was aware of it, too. He turned his head, snapping at it.
Was this going to need actual, physical contact? It might be the only way to force the magic past what must be another spell.
“You must remember, Sebastian,” she insisted, willing the magic into him, as she had willed it back at the Manor. She took another step. Now she was almost close enough to touch him. “You must. Sebastian!” She made the next words into her spell and behind them she put all the force of her fear for him, all the force of her heart, that had told her that there never would be anyone for her but this man, this sometimes exasperating, but always fascinating man — “I love you, Sebastian! Come back to me! Come back to me! Come back to me!”