Page 188 of The Eye of the Fifth
‘Because my opinion of you changes every damned hour.’
The torn expression between amusement and annoyance on her face lifted some of the shadows weighing on his heart. There was something about her, something that made him want to forgo the prince and the Fire Warden altogether. Something that made him want toplay. He found himself chuckling like a fool as he roughly tucked his hair and ears under the slaver’s cap and nodded to the camps.
‘Shall we?’
Chapter Fifty
Slave On The Run
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The Agni Slave Camps, Zarynth.
Kyra.
Kyra streaked through the dusty camp. She was human. A slave. Desperate to escape.
Behind her, Gedeon shouted, ‘We have a runner!’
Her bare feet slapped the ground as she kept her pace, not too fast, not too slow. Just as Gedeon had said.
Within seconds, a swarm of slavers surrounded her, whips drawn, swords unsheathed. She finally slowed, plastering on an expression of utter hopelessness that her bid for freedom had failed, as she beheld her oppressors.
She’d been here before. Only it had been Union soldiers that entrapped her the last time, and she’d been splattered head to toe in mercenaries blood.
The scar of that Union cunt’s whip tingled on her back, and the slight tremble through her body was not part of her act as one of the slaver’s stepped from the circle.
He wore a different colour coat to the rest, a darker brown than Gedeon’s. Almost black. A face marred with scars stared down at her. Shallow, messy scars, like the ones that appear from desperate, defensive nails. ‘Your name.’
Kyra kept her mouth shut.
He struck her across the face with the back of his hand. Her cheek stung as she forced the anger writhing within her to subdue. ‘Your name.’
‘She won’t talk, Commander,’ came Gedeon’s voice abruptly from behind, adopting a higher pitch than usual. ‘She does not speak the common tongue.’
The commander merely grunted, then cocked his head to one side. ‘Her trade. What is it?’
‘Wielder, sir.’
‘Is she now?’ said the commander. He began to circle her. Directly behind, he stopped. He was close. Too close. Almost pressed against her back. ‘Do you know what happens to deserters, girl?’
Kyra said nothing.
A hand came around to grab her chin, forcing her gaze west of the camp, where an array of posts stood erected in a line. A mangled corpse was pinned to every single one. ‘They become a feast for the crows.’ He let go of her and moved to face her once more. ‘She is a little old to be a wielder. Why is she still here?’
‘She was a miner, sir,’ Gedeon said. ‘But she has been hiding her magic. I witnessed it myself. Unbound by iron, she was able to wield her magic.’
‘Clever girl,’ the commander said, with an approving nod. He stepped back. ‘Show me.’
Gedeon repeated the order in what she could only assume was the Agni language.
With immense gratitude that she’d actually mastered her regular magic weeks ago, Kyra brought her hands into herself, then let them fly out in front of her, creating a force-blast so strong it knocked a close-by slaver off his feet.
Satisfaction befell the commander’s face. ‘You are quite the wielder. Her Eminence is very interested in wielders. This you know, or you would not have tried to hide it. But your magic just saved your life, girl. ’
He turned to the nearest slaver. ‘I want her on the first carriage to the capital in the morning.’
The soldier inclined her head. ‘Yes, sir.’
