The hunter's voice was a rasp. "Don't move."
Kaela froze, stumbling back a step before her eyes even found what he was looking at. "What is that?"
The hunter's hand was already on his weapon. His thumb slid over the worn hilt, a familiar motion, like his fingers had found it before his mind did. "One of King Hades' slaves. And it's looking at you."
The cursed one's claw, long, gnarled, tipped in something darker than black, like Archangelo's paintings, dragged slow across the dirt. The sound cut the air like a blade being drawn.
Hades. The god of the underworld.
She'd heard the name before in campfire stories and half-joking warnings. In those tales, Hades lived far away, down in the dark, his name only a word. Never this close, never with something alive that served him.
The demon's shoulders rolled forward as it stepped closer, and the air soured with a pungent, almost metallic stench that burned her throat.
The earth gave under its weight, cracking with a muted groan.
"You're far from your camp," it said. The voice was deliberate, every word drawn out as if it savored the weight of speaking. A tongue, dark and oddly tapered, flicked over its teeth shaped like hooked talons.
Kaela's fingers tightened around her knife until she felt the hilt grind into her palm. "You've been following me."
The thing's lips pulled into something between a grin and a snarl. "Long enough." Another step forward, and the shadows on its back seemed to cling instead of falling away.
"You've got the mark," the hunter said suddenly, his voice sharp enough to cut through the crawling moment. His voice sounded like a reminder.
Kaela turned her head toward him. The muscles in her arm trembled from holding her weapon ready. "The what?"
"Show me your hand."
She clenched her fingers into a fist. "Not until you tell me why."
His gaze didn't leave hers. "Because if I'm wrong, we're both dead in the next thirty seconds."
The thing moved again, but this time the motion was slower and deliberate, like a predator certain of its kill. Kaela's heartbeat pounded in her ears, loud enough she almost didn't hear the dry rustle of leaves under its feet.
Her breath came shallow.
She opened her palm just enough for them to see.
The glow spilled out, subtle at first, then sharp enough to make the cursed flinch back with a shriek that rattled the air and made the birds explode from the trees above.
The hunter swore under his breath. "So it's true. You touched the stone."
"I'm not even going to pretend that I know what you're talking about, but I did touch a black stone."
The demon lunged. Kaela's arm came up on instinct. The light flared, invisible force slamming into it. The thing hit the ground, thrashing as if the light itself burned it alive.
"You hurt it," the man said, staring. "Humans don't hurt the cursed. Cannot, not unless…" His eyes flicked over her face like he was matching it to a memory.
"Unless what?"
"Unless you're the one they whispered about," he murmured, almost to himself. "Though you're not supposed to have a name yet."
Her brow tightened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He didn't answer.
The damned creature gave one last shudder before going still. The hunter bent, slit its throat just in case, and wiped his blade clean in the dirt.
He stepped closer to the thing, knife raised but eyes still locked on her. "Something about a star and the Vale."
"The what?"
"The Vale." His voice was tight. "The hellhole we're in."
"That's not what this place is called," Kaela said sharply. "It's the Argyle."
A small smile touched his mouth. "Call it whatever you like. Long before your people, the Berkees, it was Valeargyle. Then the Vale took it. Buried the name. Or maybe people just got lazy and broke it in half. Either way, it's one place. One ruler. One Valeargyle."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Good. You don't want to."
The cursed rattled once, a sound that didn't belong in any throat. Its head twisted too far, then fell slack.
The hunter moved in, swift and efficient. The knife flashed, slicing its throat with a sound like wet cloth tearing. He knelt just long enough to wipe the blade against the dirt.
Kaela stepped back. "Why did it come for me?"
"Because every cursed thing in the forest just felt you light that mark."
She swallowed, refusing to glance at her palm. "And?"
"They'll want your blood now. All of them. Won't stop until they've stripped you to bone."
Her grip tightened on the knife. "Why?" Her thoughts darted back to the strange pull she'd felt before, the whisper in her head: "They know."
The hunter gave a short, humorless laugh. "Because they say the human who touches it can end a curse older than most kingdoms. Whether they're right or not, the cursed won't take the chance. Basically, the stone's been waiting for a human."
"You can't know that."
"I don't. But witches talk. And when that human shows, the damned will try to tear them apart before they get anywhere near him."
Her eyes narrowed. "Him?"
His jaw tightened. "A name you don't want in your mouth."
"What curse?"
He tilted his head, as though weighing the danger of speaking. "The one that keeps him here. You should be afraid. The one who banished him will be the one who comes for you now."
Kaela's brow furrowed. "Banished… him?"
"King Hades sent him here. Locked him away with the rest of us. But there's only one way he can leave, and that way is you."
A chill climbed her spine. "Me?"
"Not you exactly. The human who touches the forbidden stone. Until tonight, no one had. No one was supposed to release the devil himself."
"You make it sound like he's worse than that thing."
"He's worse than all of them combined."
"Then why would the demons care if I get to him?"
"Because he's the one thing in this place they fear more than they hate."
The words sent an uneasy shiver through her. "And you believe that?"
"I believe enough to know you're in more danger than you think."
They started walking. The forest pressed in on either side, the trees so close their branches tangled overhead. The air was heavy, thick with damp earth and the faint rot of unseen things.
***
Every so often, Kaela caught him glancing at her hand. His eyes flicked away each time, but never for long.
"You said witches talk," she said at last. "What exactly did they say?"
"That the one who touches the stone will change the Vale forever."
"Change it how?"
"They never agree on that part."
"Sounds like stories meant to scare people."
"They don't scare easy here," he said after a beat. "But they shut up when they speak of the star."
She frowned, but he didn't explain. Second time he mentioned 'star.'
"They scare me," he added. "That's enough."
They reached a narrow gully. The hunter stopped, scanning the shadows. His shoulders went still. "You hear that?"
She strained to listen. "I don't—"
Before she could finish, a sound rose from deep among the trees. Long, piercing. Too high for a beast, too raw for a man. It made her ears throb.
"They're coming," the hunter murmured.
Kaela stepped back, heel catching on a root. "Why tell me this if you're just going to let them kill me?"
"I didn't say I'd let them. But saving you isn't why I'm here."
"Then why—"
A crash of footsteps broke through the undergrowth. The hunter's hand flew to his weapon.
"You need to run."
"If I run, they'll find me faster."
"They'll find you either way. Running might give you enough time for him to reach you first."
Her heart kicked. "Who?"
The hunter's jaw clenched. "Not yet… you're not ready to hear it from me."
A branch cracked behind her.
"If he gets to you before they do, you might live. If they get to you first…" He didn't finish.
"And if I don't want either?"
"You don't get to choose."
The footsteps drew closer with a weight too heavy for a deer and too steady for anything wild.
Then, from somewhere ahead, came a voice that broke the night.
Low. Smooth. Velvet over steel. A voice that felt like it belonged to the dark itself.
Little star…
The hunter swore and shoved her toward the trees. "Move."
Her feet stayed rooted for a moment too long.
The voice came again, nearer now, swirling around the air with something almost like gentleness.
Little star.
The man swore again, harsher this time. "You have to move. Now."
"Who was that?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her into the gully. "The reason you're going to wish you never touched that stone, and also wish you did. Run in the direction of his voice. I'll deal with these bad boys."
The voice came again, drawing nearer, heavy with an invisible pull.
Little star…