The whispers are frightened and cautious.
DaiSzek does not stand down. He’s waiting for an order from us. A command to eliminate the threats. His stance is wide and daring, head low, neck out, a predatory sign before an attack.
I’m shaking. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s the shock of being in the presence of something great. Something almighty. I can hardly breathe as I gaze at him in this new light. He’s an unconquerable force to them. An iconic legend that is simply superior.
“Is that a…?”
“A RottWeilen,” the man in the cage announces. His straight posture. Confident eyes scanning the crowd for weakness. His gaze shifts to me, asking with one look if I’m alright.
Dessin.
I nod my head, still unable to catch my breath.
The crowd breaks out in frantic whispers, flinching as DaiSzek continues to lurch forward, snarling an awful sound deep within his throat.
“They’re extinct…” someone says from the back. “They’re supposed to be extinct!”
I lean into DaiSzek’s side, afraid they might want to kill him. My hand reaches over his sleek black fur until my hand disappears.
At some point during the chaos, Runa was knocked over. She’s up now, dusting herself off. “Do you believe me now?” She strides around DaiSzek, holding her hands up to show him she’s not a threat, she wants to open his cage.
But DaiSzek isn’t having it. He springs forward, teeth snapping a breath away from her face, sending her white hair to blow back over her shoulders. She falls to the ground again, gawking up at the beast that could crush her with one bite.
“Skylenna will have to free me,” Dessin tells her, satisfaction seeping through his words like a towel soaking up a spill. “He’ll decapitate anyone else this close.” He grins down at her. I suspect he’s holding back a laugh.
I walk around DaiSzek, stopping in front of his large snout to admire him for a moment. But he isn’t having that either, he uses that big head to nudge me over to the cage, to hurry me along because he doesn’t like me exposed to the threats.
Dessin smirks at me from behind the bars. “I had that handled, you know. I didn’t need him to come save the day.”
I snort. “All that blood part of the plan?” I nod my head at his arms, still being stabbed with the long metal thorns of the cage. I unlatch a few metal plates and bolts.
“Just a scratch.” He tries to shrug but forgets he’s nailed in place. He hisses.
I shake my head, removing the last rod that’s keeping the cage from opening. I try to jerk open the cylindrical doors, but he grunts.
“Slowly.”
I cringe. Whoops. The doors are attached to the spikes puncturing his arms. I have to open them inch by inch, watching the pointed tips slipping from his wounds.
“Get a healer,” the man in charge barks. “And someone get this man some alcohol!”
“I’m fine,” Dessin grumbles. He’s going to be in a foul mood all day. Goody for me.
“No, you’re not,” he says. “And we’re ashamed. We’ve—we’ve been waiting for you for so long that we stopped believing. But seeing the RottWeilen… a beast that was supposed to be extinct. A myth that said only one would survive and that one would live with the sole purpose to protect the two of you.”
I pull the cage the rest of the way, freeing Dessin from the spikes. Blood spills from the small punctures in his arms. My hands fumble to him, pressing down on the wounds to stop the blood. His dark-mahogany eyes slide from my hands up to my face. That gaze lingers. One moment, two moments… and it’s intimate, it’s full of feeling that’s been buried, hidden, yearning for more. An ache flickers in my chest like firelight. A throbbing pain from the need to hear him say he wants me. He wants me.
Dessin’s eyes shift back to the man in charge.
“He needs everyone to bow to him. Show him you’re not a threat.”
The crowd shifts uncomfortably on their feet until they’re on their knees, bowing before DaiSzek.
Wow, I didn’t know that’s how it works. I didn’t need to bow to show him I wasn’t a threat when we first met. Maybe that’s because I was attacked by the night dawper and it was obvious.
But right on cue, Dessin blows out a rush of pent-up air in his chest, laughing at the cave of kneeling people.
“Dessin,” I hiss.
The people of the tavern groan with eye rolls and embarrassed chuckles, standing back up quickly.
He shrugs, stepping out of the cage. “That was payment for pissing me off.”
“Cute,” I huff, wiping my bloody hands on my black cloak. But I want to laugh with him. To be honest, I’m glad he has a sense of humor about this instead of siccing DaiSzek on them.
“DaiSzek, wait outside for us, please.” It’s all that needs to be said for DaiSzek to trot out of the tavern with four long strides.
An older woman rushes in with a sack of supplies to clean Dessin’s wounds, followed by a young man, not a day older than twenty, holding out a chalice of liquor for him.
Dessin glares at the boy, giving him a once-over with disgust. “I don’t need it.”
“You’re so stubborn,” I snap, taking the chalice from the boy with a smile. “Just drink it.”
“I’d rather sit in the cage again.”
Runa laughs.
And once again, my stomach grumbles with an ache that wants to smack her.
“Let us dress your wounds. Our elders will want to speak with you.” The man in charge allows the healer to stand beside Dessin, dabbing at his arms with a wet cloth.
“We’re leaving after this,” Dessin says, watching the healer move her hands methodically over his punctures to clean the blood off.
“No.” I clear my throat. “I want to see the elders first.”
Dessin glances down at me. The tavern goes quiet.
“Why?”
“Because they said they have something for us.”
He blinks twice and wrinkles his brow.
“You’re right. We wouldn’t want to miss them presenting us with a dungeon cell with both our names on it.”
“They would never.” The man in charge steps forward. “Our elders have held on to something for generations, waiting for the moment to give them to you.”
I can’t wrap my head around this. Elders. Colonies. Prophecy. Legends. More Secrets. I’m always left in the dark. At least these people are offering me a hint, a sliver of the truth I can hold on to. Dessin never gives me anything.
“It’s settled then.” I smile up at him. “When you’re all patched up and good as new, we’ll make them one last visit.”
~
The elders have been waiting outside of the cave.
Someone ran and tattled on our little scandal, drawing the elders out of their dimly lit church cave to gaze upon DaiSzek.
He’s currently sitting upright, facing the tavern, looking unnervingly like a gargoyle.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask as we walk up behind them.
“Incredible,” the old woman says.
“How long has it been guarding you?” the old man to the left asks.
Dessin sighs, already bored. “Since he was the size of my two hands.”
The old man with bushy white brows looks between Dessin and me, parting his lips as if he wants to ask something, then thinks better of it.
“As welcoming as the Nightamous Horde has been, we’re in a hurry to leave.” Dessin’s voice is thick, gruff, and clearly annoyed that his arms are probably sore.
The old woman breaks away from her hypnotic trance set on DaiSzek. “My name is Qilan. My father gave me this when he passed, told me your story, told me that one day I might be one to hand you this,”—her pasty wrinkled hands hold out a rolled-up piece of parchment to me—“a map of the seven forests. And where each ancient colony is located. We’ve marked the ones you’ll need to visit.”
I unroll the aged, yellow-stained map. It’s ancient, beautifully crafted, and detailed. I see the circle in the center of all seven forests, the bare land where the Chandelier City would be now. And within five of the seven forests, a pocket of land is covered in drawings of small hobbles, fortresses, and mystical architecture.
“The Red Oaks and Hangman’s Valley are the only ones that aren’t inhabited by a colony.”
Well, we know the Red Oaks is vacant due to the vanishing colony after the RottWeilen slaughter. “Why doesn’t Hangman’s Valley have a colony?”
“It does. Just not one you can communicate with,” Runa cuts in behind me. “It’s the land of the longest living beasts. It’s where the RottWeilen originated from before they manifested to the Red Oaks to bond with that colony.”
“Fascinating,” Dessin clips, turning to Qilan. “May we go?”
She shakes her head. “I think you’ll enjoy my last gift the most.” The old man with bushy white brows pulls an ash-colored stone from his pocket. It looks like a barnacle from the side of a ship. Dusty and jagged.
“You’ve heard of shades, yes?” Qilan asks.
Dessin and I both shrug, like yeah, kinda, sorta.
“They’re the only bit of proof we have that these lands were once riddled with magic. Shades were once fae or elves. They turned into dark, vengeful spirits that haunt these lands.” She points to the stone that the old man passes to Dessin. “That is a shade stone. The only object that can call to them. So, if you should ever find yourself in dire need of help. Rub the stone until flecks of ash and dust float into the wind.”
Qilan’s black, hazy eyes look back and forth between Dessin and me.
“And help will come.”
