Unhinged screams from a banshee echo through the walls of our cave. Screams of a man. Screams of a woman. Fear and impending doom fall over the group as the bloodcurdling sound wakes us up early, just as the sun kisses the horizon. The winds are calmer than they were last night, but the snow still falls. Kane is the first one to jump to his feet. DaiSzek is already gone, most likely following the devastating sound.
Warrose sprints out into the cold morning, not bothering to wait for anyone.
Kane turns to me and shoots me a look of cold caution. “No one leaves this cave.” His voice is a devil’s grenade to our sleepy ears. Good morning, Dessin.
He takes off running into the falling snow. The screams are now from one person, a man bellowing at the top of his lungs. Niles whips his head around to gawk at me. “We’re not going to listen to him, right?”
And before I can react, Ruth and Chekiss are on their feet, waiting for me to make the first move of disobedience from Dessin’s direct order.
I rub my face to wipe the tiredness away. “Okay. But we stand back to see if he needs us.” As we exit the cave, the screaming is coming from the tall pine trees to our far left. I expect to see groups of armed men and Dessin fighting them all with DaiSzek by his side. But it’s just Dessin staring at a tree. A tree on fire. He nods once as if taking directions from someone and takes a few steps to the right, digging in the snow with his bare hands.
I nod to Niles, Chekiss, and Ruth. We sprint through the snow, lifting our knees to our chest with each stride like we’re jogging through water. Attached to the burning tree is a man.
“Get him loose!” Dessin barks at Warrose. The man is screaming as the flames lick his boots and pants. Warrose yanks a dagger from his belt, sawing through the ropes that bind the poor man. I look up and the victim has curly black hair and arctic-blue eyes that are filled with welling tears.
“What are you doing?!” I shout over my shoulder to Dessin.
“His friend was buried alive!” he shouts back.
Flames are getting too close to Warrose’s hands, so I sneak a knife from his belt, circling to the back of the tree to help him cut off the restraints. I hear Dessin panting as he digs deeper into the ground. He stops, grunting as if he’s pulling someone from a grave. A woman begins to whimper.
“Are you hurt?” I hear Dessin ask, followed by the woman breaking out in hysterical sobbing.
We cut the man free and he falls to the ground with a sigh of relief. His eyes look up immediately. I follow his stare and see the woman’s arms around Dessin’s neck as she continues to cry. Her friend doesn’t move. Doesn’t stand to check on her. Just stares with tears streaming from his pink cheeks.
Dessin’s arms stay suspended in the air around her quivering body. Unsure how he should react to her outburst. I have the urge to smile, but I don’t. It would be inappropriate, we don’t even know what just happened. It’s just… I remember the first time I hugged Dessin. He was in shock. His persona doesn’t do well with emotions or human interaction. I can only imagine how uncomfortable he is.
I greet the crying woman with my hand on her back to help Dessin out. She looks up at me from the center of his chest, gazing at me through hot tears still hanging loosely from her long lashes, making clean streaks through the mud all over her fair face. The woman’s golden-copper hair is covered in dirt, standing in wild waves all over her head. Her eyebrows knit together and she jumps from Dessin to me. Thin, frail arms choking my neck. Dessin raises his eyebrows at me with a thank you for the assist look.
“What happened?” I ask her.
The man steps forward, touching her arm in reassurance. “I don’t know if you remember us… but the two of you found us in the woods a few months ago…”
“I remember,” Dessin says through his teeth. “And you only have a minute to explain before I tie you back to that tree.”
The man opens his mouth to speak.
“—And before you think about lying, I’ll know. I don’t like liars. I burn liars.”
The man blinks several times with eyelids stretched to his eyebrows.
“What’s your name?” I ask, still holding the frantic woman.
The man looks at me nervously. It’s now I realize he holds more boyish features than manly ones. He might be a couple of years younger than me.
“Niklaus,” he answers hesitantly.
“How old are you, Niklaus?” I ask again, the girl finally gaining enough strength to part from my arms.
“Twenty-one.”
Dessin takes a step forward, probably to do something rash. I hold my hand up to him, signaling him to let me keep talking. He stops midstep.
“Niklaus, my friend here has many gifts, but patience isn’t one of them. I need you to tell me why this is our second run-in with you two, and I need you to be honest.”
The wind carries the scent of smoke from the burning pine tree. I notice Ruth, Chekiss, and Niles still standing back. Waiting to see if we’ll need them.
Niklaus takes a breath, careful not to look at Dessin. “We’re being chased by people who think we are in cahoots with the two of you. We just broke out of where they were keeping us. They followed us here and you saw what the end result was.”
“Why would they think we’re affiliated?” Dessin steps forward.
“They said they saw us with you that night. I guess they had eyes on the two of you.”
Dessin begins to pace. “No, that’s not right. Demechnef wouldn’t have taken people we only had a random interaction with once.” He narrows his eyes back to Niklaus. Suspicion forming new theories in his mind.
“Because it isn’t Demechnef that has been chasing us,” Niklaus responds with a higher level of confidence. “They’re called the Vexamen Breed.”
Dessin’s brows rise slightly. “I see.” His dark eyes search the snow as if there were more answers buried there.
“Who are the Vexamen Breed?” I cut in.
Dessin’s eyes flicker over to me like he forgot I was here.
“They’re children, well, teenagers that the leaders of Vexamen trained to be vicious soldiers from birth. The same men that slaughter that village.” He looks away, unraveling more questions. “But wait, that doesn’t explain why they tied you up and buried her alive.”
“Maybe they were trying to draw us out?” I say.
Dessin’s eyes fill with panic, an alarm going off in warning red lights and loud claps of thunder. “Where’s DaiSzek?!”
We all look around the area. He was out before us. He took off toward the screams.
“What, the animal? The black wolf?” Niklaus asks. “It took off after the Breed left us here.”
Dessin moves like his body is going up in flames. He yells back at me to stay put. I don’t dare to go against his wishes this time. He has to put all of his focus and energy into making sure DaiSzek is going to be okay.
I usher the group into the cave. The only thing I can do now is restart the fire. The thought crosses my mind that this is a trap for me, that these two strangers are here to kill us. But Dessin wouldn’t have left me with them if he didn’t think they were telling the truth. I feed the couple leftovers from last night and let them get some sleep. Meanwhile, I wait at the edge of the cave with Dessin’s machete and Warrose standing guard.
After what feels like a couple of hours, I watch Dessin trudge through the snow. Fury painted over his face like a warrior coming home from a battle lost. I stand, unable to breathe, unable to feel anything but hopelessness.
“They have him,” Dessin says, completing his last steps to me. “It was a trap to capture him all along. They must have injected him with the saphriness oil.”
“Wait, the country we’re at war with has DaiSzek? Why do they want him?”
Dessin stares down at me with anger boiling under his surface, then shares a quick glance with Warrose.
“Demechnef isn’t the only one after me, Skylenna. It’s been a race for who can get me first.”
Oh my god.
He takes a deep breath, blows it out through his mouth. His eyes might as well be glowing red, cold isolation and a thirst for enemy mutilation.
“It’s time to turn ourselves in. We’re going to need Demechnef’s help.”
“No.” The firm response comes out with a cold bite to it. “There’s no way I’ll go back there. We can get him back ourselves. We can ask the Stormsages for help. Or the Nightamous Horde, right? They all seem built for battle.”
Dessin watches me with a patient, remorseful expression. “If there were any other way, I’d take it. But Demechnef is the most suited for a fight with the Vexamen Breed. Their soldiers have been trained from birth, and I, alone, won’t be able to infiltrate. But Demechnef has the resources, the spies, the manpower, and years of learning the war strategies of their enemy.”
“Dessin… I won’t go back to that cage.” My hands shake with determination. A white-hot flash of uneasiness drapes over me. “And I can’t believe you’d try and make me.”
His furrowed brow softens, and he’s reaching for my hands, stopping them from balling into fists. “You will never go back to that cage. Ever,” he promises. “I have a plan. Something to trade for our immunity. A treaty that will keep us safe while we work with them.”
My stomach rolls. “What if you’re wrong?”
“I swear to God, Skylenna. I won’t ever let them put you in that goddamned cage again.”
I drop my head, still feeling the darkness around my cage. Still stewing in the hopelessness of never getting rescued. Of believing I am all alone.
“I’ve got to save him, baby. Please trust me.”
DaiSzek. My boy. What is he going through? Would they have him in a cage now? I take a deep breath, nodding. I won’t let my fears of stepping foot in that place again stop me from freeing the beautiful animal that has never failed to save me. To protect me.
“I’m in.”
