Wolfsbane Winter by Jane Fletcher Read Free Book Online

Deryn to identify it as a bowstring. The time for waiting was nearly over, and abruptly, Deryn felt a sense of calm determination sweep over her. The shaking faded as anticipation tapped a well of heat, deep inside. She smiled as she slipped the dry cord over one tip of her bow and then braced the wooden shaft against her foot to complete the stringing.
    The conversation between the sentries had been an indistinct mumble, with only the occasional clear word or phrase. Now one of the bandits, a woman, raised her voice, still no more than a whisper, but enough for Deryn to make out.
    “Don’t get lost.”
    “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”
    The second voice was louder than the first and accompanied by footsteps, coming toward where Deryn and Brise lay. However, the outlaw was clearly unaware that they were there. He passed by without a sideways glance. The firelight showed him standing at the water’s edge with his back to them and his legs spaced wide apart. The sound of the waves on the shore was overridden by a sudden burst of splashing.
    Deryn looked around, trying to judge the light and reassure herself that they had nothing to worry about. She and Brise were in the shadow of the bushes. When the outlaw finished pissing and turned around, the fire would be in his face. The paling sky was not yet casting light. Surely he would not be able to see them. Then she realized that Brise was not waiting to find out. The blade of the knife in Brise’s hand reflected the merest hint of firelight as she crept toward the outlaw.
    Deryn remembered the words, It’s too much to hope we’ll get the chance to take them out separately. This was their chance, and Brise was taking it. She rose up behind the outlaw and wrapped her left hand around his mouth. Her other hand was also moving, a harder, quicker action across the line of his throat. The outlaw collapsed with a guttural choking and was still.
    For a moment there was silence, and then a woman’s voice called softly. “You okay, Mel?”
    Deryn’s heart leapt. Her hand tightened in reflex around the shaft of her bow, but before she could move, Brise broke out in a deep, racking cough, accompanied by much spitting, like someone trying to hack up phlegm.
    The sound was loud enough to wake one of the sleepers. “Wassup?”
    The outlaw by the fire laughed. “Mel’s swallowed a fly.”
    “Tell him to keep his mouth shut.”
    “Mel, you hear that?”
    “Yah.” Brise croaked the word out, blending it with another cough. The sound was garbled enough to safely defy recognition.
    Everything in the outlaw camp again went quiet, but the ploy could have gained them no more than a minute. Brise scuttled back and then Deryn felt the light tap of feathers stroke her cheek. The message was easy to decode. Deryn pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it on the string.
    The outlaw in the firelight made a clear target, even when viewed through the straggly fringe of bushes. Deryn glanced at Brise. Shadows of leaves blotched patterns across her face, but for the first time since the moon had set, they were able to catch each others’ eye. Brise pointed first to the outlaw and then tapped her own throat. Deryn nodded. Together they drew their bows and took aim.
    The outlaw had been warming her hands over the fire, but now she turned and stared in their direction. She was clearly searching for her absent comrade and was not attuned to anything else. Her eyes skimmed over the bushes where Deryn and Brise were. She placed her fists on her hips while a frown deepened on her face. Concern and doubt were growing. Deryn knew they had mere seconds before she raised the alarm.
    “Now.” Brise whispered the word.
    Deryn’s aim was true. Her arrow hit the outlaw’s throat at the same instant that Brise’s found the outlaw’s heart. The woman collapsed, making no more noise than her comrade. Deryn lowered her bow. Snores continued, unchecked.
    Brise brought her mouth close to Deryn’s