Page 47 of Ember and Eclipse
If he didn’t return, she needed to take Friend and go. She stood close to the horse now, sharing heat and surrounded by darkness.
Shifting her weight from one foot to another, she finally heard someone approaching. But the stones crunched and shifted beneath more than one pair of boots. Before she sought warmth near Friend, she had taken her choice of Devdan’s blades. One of them being the throwing dagger that she liked especially. The steel was much colder in her hands now, but she was grateful for the comfort of the two weapons as eyes then teeth took shape in the surrounding night.
Not Monsos.Wolves.
Three men and two wolves appeared before her, but she suspected all were Lunae. One of the wolves let out a threatening rumble, but it was Devdan she sought out.
He stood between two other severe-looking men. “Devdan?”
“On a first-name basis, are we?” one beside Devdan sneered as he stepped closer to her. He looked her up and down and licked his top lip in thought. “I suppose you two have had to keep each other warm on these cold nights? Care to share her with us?”
Rel raised the dagger, sinking into a fighting stance. The throwing knife was in her dominant hand, but only Devdan would know which was which.
“She’s a witch, Maros,” Devdan said evenly. “If you want to dodge her teeth and nails for the little warmth she offers, you can have her.”
Rel looked at him. The cleaving ache of betrayal almost left her breathless.
“A fighter? That’s not how I remember her.”
Flinching, she searched Maros’ eyes. Though she couldn’t make them out fully in the dark, she knew the color—brown with golden flecks. He was one of the masked viewers. How many of Devdan’s pack were?
“More importantly, how did she come by a knife?” The other man asked as the two remaining in wolf form finally shifted. One was a lithe woman who looked at her as if she found the whole ordeal boring. The other had a jagged scar down the middle of his face.
But Rel didn’t recognize the eyes of any of the others.
“She thinks she can kill me,” Devdan said. “It’s a fun way to pass the time.”
The others made sounds of amusement, except Maros.
The one with the scar splitting his face explained to Devdan, “The cart is up the road about two hours. It’s out of sight with Perin standing guard. We should go before the wild men find him.”
“I’ll take this one,” Maros sneered, indicating Rel with a jut of his chin. “I’d like to see how much warmth she offers after all.”
He stepped toward her, unafraid of her knives. She let him get close, staring up at him as if she were afraid. A harsh grin played at his lips, and if she did nothing else in that moment, she would at least make it to where he never smiled in her face again.
When he was close enough she moved as fast as she could, ducking and bringing the knife up at the same time. The feel of it going through his flesh and insides and the subsequent outpour of blood all over her arm was satisfying. Maros let out a gurgling cry and a garbled curse, but Rel had already turned to confront the others.
The woman went for Maros. But the other two came for her, their weapons drawn. She let the throwing knife fly, the distance not far enough between them to do much damage, but it landed in the closest one’s arm. It didn’t matter, though—they overtook her. Despite her nails and teeth, she was grabbed, and a sharp pain went through her temple a moment later.
Before her vision went dark, the last thing she saw was Devdan staring at her—his expression cold.
Chapter XXVII
Thecuffsofwitchsilverthat bound her in place had long since seared and cut through her wrists and forearms. The cramped carriage was meant for prisoners, the individual compartments small, leaving only enough room to stand or crouch.
They came for her intermittently throughout the day, pulling her out so she could relieve herself or make her drink water. They didn’t, however, feed her.
It was usually the woman, Bria, that came for her. She only saw Devdan once, and he didn’t look at her, too busy tending to Friend.
Time twisted and collapsed, and soon, she didn’t know how many days it had been. All she knew was that she was freezing, the nonstop standing wrecked her body, and she was dizzy from the lack of food. Sleeping was practically impossible, yet she slipped in and out of hazy worlds.
She was thankful when she could find relief in those other realms. When nothing else could save her, she found refuge in her mind. She sank in endless swamps buried beneath algae and silt. Safe but lifeless.
After all, nothing could hurt her if she was already dead.
When they hauled her out of the carriage this time, the sunlight was too much for her to bear. But even before she squeezed her eyes shut, she recognized where they were.
The Romulan seat of power.
