Murder of Crows (The Twenty-Sided Sorceress Book 2) by Annie Bellet Page A

steady breaths. I could track Alek if I went back to camp and got something of his. I turned and started retracing my steps, eyeing what little I could see of the sky to get my bearings.
    The spirit was smart, separating us. Using illusions and deception. I should have expected it from what Em said but with so little information, it was hard to know what it was capable of.
    I was learning, though. Boy was I learning.
    “Why can’t my life be more like a porno than a horror movie,” I muttered as I walked. I forced a chuckle at that. If this was a porn movie, with my luck Maid Marion and her Merry Men would show up. I could almost hear Harper quipping, “time for the mandatory girl on girl scene.”
    I smiled and shook my head. What was I even thinking about? I almost walked into a huge tree as a giant black beast appeared beside me and slammed into my hip, knocking me on my ass. It was a huge beast, the size of a pony, with the head of a wolf, the body of a tiger, tufted ears like a lynx, and, I swear to the Universe, an amused expression in its fathomless, starry night black eyes.
    Wolf. My guardian and one of the fabled Undying. Fucking finally. I glared at her, but her furry black face and unfathomable eyes just kept laughing at me. My head cleared again and I swore some more, mostly to make myself feel better as I got to my feet and brushed pine needles off my ass.
    I’d lost my grip on my magic and I snatched it back, dragging on the well of power inside. It was so easy to become distracted. More spirit shenanigans. This was getting really frustrating.
    “Where have you been?” I said to Wolf. Spirits are something she’s supposed to be able to help with, being all magical and shit.
    She whined and pawed at the tree I’d almost run into. It looked familiar. It was really two trees that had grown too close together, their trunks twisting and combining as they strained for the sunlight. The kissing tree, we used to call it.
    Which meant the old mine entrance was close by. I shivered. Though I’d only been four when my cousins John and Connor got me lost down there on purpose, I still vividly remembered the dank air, the dirty walls pressing in, and the feeling of being buried alive, trapped in a labyrinth and all alone in the dark. If it hadn’t been for Wolf, I might never have come out of there.
    The mine. It would make a good hide-out if one were a terrible person who didn’t mind darkness. It had been boarded up after I’d been lost in it, but still, it might be worth checking. I pushed power back into the tracking spell, recasting it on a hunch. The knot of hair pulled me back to the north, toward the mine. The pull was strong. Peter wasn’t far.
    Turn back and try to find Alek? Or find the kid? I didn’t want to go back into the mine and the spirit was fucking with me pretty hard, despite my magic. I had Wolf with me now, however. And I knew what Alek would want. He’d say to go after the kid. No question.
    “This is a terrible idea,” I muttered.
    Then, one hand on Wolf’s thick fur and one pointing out in front of me to guide the way, we went north.

The entrance to the mine was no longer boarded up. The entrance had been cleared recently; brush cut back and the old boards were piled off to one side. The opening yawned in the sunlight like a beast, damp air slightly cooler than the air in the clearing around it seeping out and making me shiver.
    At least, I told myself the goosebumps on my arms were from the air.
    I called on more magic, focusing it on my outstretched hand and bringing up a brightly glowing ball of golden light. I sent the light ball floating into the entrance. The floor in the opening was scuffed and furrowed, the dirt having long since clogged the tracks that used to run down there. I saw fresh footprints and went to examine them.
    A man had come this way. Alek? No, the feet were too small for that. Alek had giant Viking boat feet. It was too much to hope he’d come this