Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Kallie
We have company.
Voraxis replies without hesitation, On my way.
“What’s a little thing like you doing all the way out here?
” the man asks tauntingly. His face is concealed by the shadows offered by the trees, but the voice isn’t familiar.
My eyes move past him, darting briefly to the tree line Odeyssa snuck off too.
If he noticed, he didn’t acknowledge I might not be alone.
“Find something, Sergeant?” another person sounds to my right, but I keep my eyes on the stranger in front of me.
“Someone,” he clarifies. “But she’s not talking.” The leaves on the ground crunch under the weight of the other person as they walk closer, still keeping their faces obscure from the moonlight. I don’t move, staying pressed against the tree.
“Did you carry that thing?” the first man inquires, hiking a thumb over his shoulder at the saddle.
Wordlessly, I stand on shaky legs, letting the blanket fall from my shoulders.
“I don’t want any trouble, but I think you should be on your way.
” My voice is calm, a razor-thin veil over the heat building beneath my skin.
Every instinct in me screams to run, to fight, to scorch the realm and leave nothing but ash behind.
“Oh, is that what you think, dollface?” They speak to me as if I’m naive. Every word is laced with that patronizing tone I’ve come to loathe—sweet on the surface but steeped in condescension, as if I haven’t bled to stand here. “Would you like to know what I think?”
“Not particularly.”
“Sintharion, did you hear that? Dollface has bark, but does she bite?” The moonlight catches his menacing grin as he steps closer. Then it showcases the slash running down the side of his neck before his bright blues are fully present, staring at me with intent.
What the hell is taking Voraxis so long? And where in the world did Odeyssa run off to?
The other one, Sintharion, comes into my peripheral, and a glint of metal on his chest catches my attention—some sort of badge, shaped as a shield, with the letters KV engraved on it.
“Come on, man, just let her go.”
“Let her go? She’s ours for the picking. Who’s gonna know?” When he steps just right, I see he also wears the same symbol. “Have a little fun. This one looks like she’ll be tons of it.”
Sintharion turns his head to look at me, and that’s when I see the scar running down the length of the right side of his face, starting at his hairline, over his eye, and all the way down to under his chin. Gods, it looks like it was nearly sliced off.
“If I could just chime in here.” I raise a sarcastic finger, holding their attention. “I believe it would be me letting you go, not the other way around.”
The one Sintharion called Sergeant lets out a humorless laugh.
“Sarg, seriously, let’s go.”
“She’s coming with us.” He lunges at me, but I don’t give him the chance to grab hold. Fire licks up my arms in an instant, creating an orange glow around me.
“What the—” Sergeant Dickhead murmurs. Sintharion, on the other hand, crosses his arms over his chest and takes a step back, ready to watch the show.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Sergeant.” His face pinches together with rage, and I can see the wheels turning in that small brain of his.
“Sin—”
“This one’s all you,” he tells him. I catch a hint of a Cheshire grin on his face. A controlled wind swooshes my flames around, threatening to put them out. But I push further and allow the fire to dance higher, and with a nod of my head, a gust of air blows Sergeant a few feet back.
“What are you?” he coughs out.
“Your worst nightmare.” I instruct the flame toward his frame, creating a circle of fire around him. He tries to blow it out, but it’s no use.
“Feel free to jump in any time!” he yells over to his friend.
Sintharion shakes his head, suppressing a laugh as he sends a pathetic excuse of a water ball toward my flames. “This is your fight.”
Who are these guys?
The fire grows, almost fully concealing him on the other side. I sink my fingers into the damp soil, magic bleeding from my palms as I send it racing through the ground, chasing the pulse of an ancient ley line until it coils, waiting, beneath him.
Let the games begin.
My fingers sink in deeper, inch by inch, and slowly, the ground begins to concave. At the same time, I feel Voraxis closing in. He’s nearly here.
“I’d like to make a correction to my last statement,” I start, forcing the realm to dip lower, deeper, carving space from the earth itself with nothing but will and magic.
“We are your worst nightmare.” Voraxis touches down, shaking the ground as he lands.
There’s a wildfire caged in my chest, thrashing to be let loose, and if he gives me the world, I’ll scorch the whole damn thing and smile while it burns.
“Oh, shit. You fucked up,” Sintharion coos from the sidelines.
Sergeant yells an obscene number of profanities once he turns and sees my little burnt marshmallow. I watch his silhouette move behind the flames and the exact moment he decides to stick his hand through the orange tendrils.
Let him go, Voraxis demands.
What? You can’t be serious. He was going to take me!
Let him go, Firebird, he insists.
This is ridiculous. Absurd, really. This guy thought he could take me against my will, and then what? Lock me up? Kill me? Or worse?
The fire rages on, and Voraxis stomps closer. He’s with the Kingdom of Vaiterra. You have enough enemies as it is.
Since when did he become the logical one?
With a grunt of frustration, the blaze obeys me, tugging until the flames retreat like hounds called home. I keep the crater in the ground, wanting to watch him climb his way out of the hole he dug himself.
“Man, it was just getting interesting,” Sintharion mutters under his breath. He stalks toward his rather unfortunate friend and offers him a hand up.
What a letdown.
You better have a really good explanation. My irritation is apparent, and Voraxis knows it, not bothering to give me any insight on why we just spared this man’s life.
Once Sintharion gets Sargeant back above ground, they both turn to look at me, both giving very contradicting expressions. One looks like he’s curious and amazed, and the other? Well, if looks could kill, I would be six feet under.
“Now that we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, I think it would be best if you leave now,” I say with conviction.
“I think the queen would be very intrigued by you,” Sergeant Asshole coos. Voraxis answers with a growl that ripples through the air like a crack of thunder, and both men instinctively step back.
“I’m getting very annoyed. Are you not listening? I’m not going anywhere with you,” I reiterate, placing my hands on my hips.
“We may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Sintharion explains.
“Huh. You don’t say,” I retort sarcastically. “Is that how you would describe an attempted kidnapping?”
“Our apologies. We’re more of the act-first-ask-questions-never type.” I stare at him expectantly, as if that’s going to magically change my mind. I refuse to take my eyes off the bastards in front of me, daring them to take one more step and give me a fucking reason.
It’s just Odeyssa coming back, Voraxis warns, probably not wanting me to start another fight.
She really does have impeccable timing.
I hear her footsteps come to a halt, and I have half a thought to tell her to run. But before I get the chance, she does so without being told. Only, her footsteps seem to be growing closer, and then she brushes past me, nearly knocking me over before jumping into Sintharion’s arms.
“Odeyssa, where have you been hiding out?” Sintharion’s question is laced with curiosity and hints of amusement, like when you’re caught off guard when seeing an old friend.
“My dad hasn’t been too keen on my explorations lately. Battening down the hatch, so to speak.”
After the shock wears off, my head tilts to the side. “You two know each other?”
“Oh, we go way back. Sin was training in Nefarium when we first met, and let’s just say, we both liked to get into trouble.
” The two of them laugh as if a memory of their early adventures just came back, and they’ve been transported there, reliving it through lost touches and familiar smells.
“My dad caught wind of our…extracurriculars and thought it best he become a guard in another kingdom—conflict of interest and all that,” she finishes.
Long gone is the Odeyssa who stormed off, doing Gods know what, and standing in her place is someone bubbly and dare I say… flirtatious?
Crossing my arms over my chest, my face morphs into delight, ready to tell her just what her pal Sin was about to do.
Regardless of the situation, I’m still pissed and don’t one hundred percent trust her.
“Interesting story, really, but if that’s the case, would you care to explain why he was trying to kidnap me? ”
“I wasn’t trying to do anything. He was,” Sintharion clarifies, pointing hard at his accomplice, who hasn’t moved so much as an inch since Odeyssa came into the picture.
Odeyssa’s eyes trail the line to where Sergeant stands, like she didn’t notice him when she barreled her way into this conversation.
Her body slackens with annoyance, and she rolls her eyes.
“I’ve been telling you, Rathe. You’re never going to find a suitor if you keep up these games,” Odeyssa tells him.
She knows him too? This whole thing could’ve been avoided if she hadn’t stomped off in the first place.
“Who said I’m looking for a suitor?”
“You did. The desperation is wafting off you.”
This is ludicrous.
“Odeyssa, you two have to come back, the queen would love to see you,” Sintharion suggests.
“Queen Aslan? Oh, I haven’t seen her in such a long time! Now that I think about it, I believe the last time was just after my mother’s passing.”
“You must come. She’s been feeling a little under the weather, and I think a visit from you would do her some good.”
Regardless of our intent in coming to Vaiterra, my hackles rise, knowing it wasn’t of our own accord.
An itch in the back of my mind says this was all too easy.
Too convenient. These people—who know Odeyssa—just happen to be here the moment we land?
I don’t believe in coincidences. And if this is one, it’s the kind that reeks of careful planning masked as chance.
Odeyssa’s eyes meet mine expectantly, and I pretend to think it over. This is what we came here to do, but something doesn’t feel right, and I’m starting to second-guess my decision.
This is the right call. Right? Still, I glance at Voraxis, desperate for a twitch, a growl, anything that says I’m not about to screw us six ways to hell.
Pick your evil, Firebird.
Letting out a long sigh, it’s full of more defeat than relief. My eyes flick over to Odeyssa then the others. No words. Just a curt nod, sharp enough to cut. That’s all I’ve got left.
“He stays here,” Sergeant Dickhead commands, pointing a finger at Voraxis.
“Not a chance,” I shoot back, my tone leaving no room for debate. Voraxis’s footsteps shake the ground as he makes his way back over toward the saddle, and I don’t pay him any mind as he gets it situated.
“Where were you guys heading anyway? You’re a long way from home, Princess.” Sintharion’s voice carries over through the wind.
Princess. That singular word is enough to enrage me.
Remind me of him, of all the time he called me that, joking or not.
To get under my skin…until it meant something so much more.
Until it went deeper than my flesh and sank into my marrow, laying there as a reminder that it’s endearing, and whether he shows it or not, he loved me.
But now all those memories are tainted, coated in gasoline and replaced by the horrors of where we were truly supposed to end.
“You’re a pawn in a very big game, Princess. And it seems you have lost.”
What if they’re working with him, for him. For all I know, it could’ve been this unknown kingdom I’ve never heard of. It would make perfect sense: take me somewhere secluded, somewhere I’m not familiar with. That could also be why the cloaks never indicated what kingdom they were a part of.
I would never know.
Odeyssa turns to Rathe. “Funny, we were coming he—”
“There really wasn’t a destination in mind,” I interrupt. Odeyssa throws me an inquisitive look, but I ignore it. “It’s been a long day. We should get going.” Despite the ongoing reservations I have about this situation, I’m cold, hungry, and exhausted.
Sintharion arches a brow and scans over me as if he forgot I was here. “Forgive me, what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t,” I quip, giving Odeyssa a look that says she also shouldn’t give them my name.
“Enough of the yapping. Let’s get a move on,” Rathe announces, turning around and heading for the trees. Voraxis informs me he’ll fly overhead, and even though it makes my heart sink, knowing he’s not right by my side, I know he can’t simply walk through the forest.
Odeyssa strides ahead, falling easily into step with the others, laughter lacing through her voice like it belongs there. But then, without a word, she drops back, matching my pace, the space between us now charged. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who makes friends with a guardsman.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Her comment is like a punch to the gut, something solemn hidden in her tone. Before I can respond, she inches closer and whispers, “He’s not a guardsman. He’s the Prince of Vaiterra.”