Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
FOX
F ox was on the hunt. When he’d set out that morning with the others, after arguing with Ian for ten minutes about how he was most definitely coming with them, he’d had high hopes. He imagined himself strolling back into the city with the head of the Dragonborn resistance’s leader dangling from his fist. The scene was beginning to feel less tangible as he swatted away another buzzing insect, surrounded by the stench of dying trees.
Ian had sent them all on a wild rabbit chase. He’d probably only seen an old marking from before Suvi even existed and mistaken it for something meaningful. They’d been out in the forest well before sunrise and it was already nearly noon and so far the most dangerous thing Fox had seen was some poison vines. As he nearly tripped over a root, dodging another said vine, he thought about turning around, marching back to Ian and telling him as much. Ian was a rank above him, but they’d known each other long enough that Fox never felt guilty pushing the high sergeant’s buttons.
The fact was, he wasn’t even supposed to be out here. He’d taken High Specialist Luna’s place in the search party when he’d heard what they were after—the resistance’s base. After nearly an entire sun cycle of raiding pathetic excuses for bases within the city that usually comprised a single family whispering about forbidden myths across the dinner table, Fox was ready to make an actual dent in the king-damned rebellion.
So despite wanting to turn around and tell Ian exactly what he thought of his ridiculous plan, he kept moving. And when he finally heard a rustling in the trees ahead of him, too big to be a rabbit or fox, he pulled his bow and prowled forward.
It was impossible to be truly silent in the forest, the dead leaves and plants always happy to make his life more difficult, but with the slight breeze and constant buzz of animals and insects, he could blend in with the cacophony of sounds fine. He kept his distance at first, careful not to startle whatever it was, but as he approached, seeing the flashes of movement between the trees, he bit back his shout of triumph. It was a she , a Dragonborn caught outside the city walls.
Being out here was already grounds for arrest and imprisonment, but if she was here on resistance business, she could lead him back to their elusive base.
Ian might have given them the initial intel, but Fox would lead them to the nest and he’d be the one to cut off the viper’s head. He imagined the homecoming, the chief commander welcoming him with open arms, his own father at his side beaming with pride. He’d prove to the man once and for all that he could be a true king’s man and military leader. That he could fill his brother’s shoes.
Why anyone would risk their lives to be out in this treacherous place, he had no idea. The rainforest smelled of rotten wood and moss, and with the worsening droughts, the greenery couldn’t be considered pleasing. It was simply brown dirt, brown mud, and brown death. Even the animals didn’t seem particularly excited to be out here. But Fox had given up cycles ago trying to understand the minds of dragon-filth who insisted his people with their polished stone houses and paved streets were the savage ones.
He almost tripped over a root as he circled toward where he’d seen the woman through the trees. His heart beat heavily in his chest as he crouched and brushed his hair from his face, sticky with sweat. A wild boar sniffed around a small clearing a few yards away, but there wasn’t a woman in sight. His chest tightened, but before he could think to run, the woman dropped from the tree above the boar, landing on it with a short cry and pulling a dagger across its throat. It was a savage display of blood and violence and though he’d never admit it, he was almost impressed.
He had a clear view of the woman when she stood, looking down at her kill. She was covered in dirt and blood, making it nearly impossible to tell her skin apart from the filth, but her hair was a distinct nest of umber curls that appeared nearly black until they caught the light. For a moment, he questioned if she was even from Suvi. He had heard rumors of unregistered Dragonborn roaming beyond the wall. But despite the grime, her clothes were too well-tailored to be from anywhere but the city.
More importantly, she’d just proven she was not only outside the walls, but possessed a set of illegal weapons, hunting the king’s animals. Although not proof of resistance ties, hope swelled inside him. He could arrest her then and there, take her back to the city, and interrogate her. But if he could follow her without being seen?—
Before the thought had even finished, she froze in what she was doing, body going rigid. She looked up. He had barely moved, taking a single silent step backward and yet she was staring directly at him through the branches and vines.
A small leather strap was wrapped across her face, obscuring the top half, but her eyes were still visible and her gaze sharp. Her high cheekbones gave her an air of haughtiness that almost had him stepping back again.
The decision had been made for him.
He moved forward, an arrow already aimed and ready to fire if she ran, but she didn’t. She had turned back to her kill, eyes focused on her hands as they made quick work of the giant pig’s innards. Fox’s stomach turned at the sight.
“Don’t move,” he said, voice clear despite them being the first words he’d spoken since morning. “You’re under arrest, in the name of the king, for illegal hunting, possession of banned weapons, trespassing on royal land, and suspected rebel activity.”
She ignored his command, standing up slowly and turning to look at him.
“You. Of course, it’s you,” she said, a muscle twitching in her jaw. He wasn’t sure what to make of the comment and her face was carefully neutral. He sneered at the blood splattered across her cheeks and mask like freckles, a few drops smudged as if to imitate war paint. Her eyes, nearly too large for her face stood out starkly against her dirt and blood-streaked face, bright and round and the color of moss. She blinked.
“Drop your dagger and get on your knees,” he said, unnerved by the lack of expression. Perhaps she was dull-witted.
She twisted the dagger in her hand around, but didn’t drop it.
“I don’t want to fight,” he said, teeth clenched in frustration.
“Maybe I do,” she said, smiling.
“You’ll only lose.”
“But it might be fun.” She took a step forward and he moved his arrow in threat. “We could dirty up those pretty clothes of yours.”
“Or I could just shoot you and carry you back to the city over my shoulder.”
“Is that supposed to convince me to cooperate?”
His arms twitched and he let the arrow fly, the head embedding itself in the soil next to her feet. He may not be a hunter, but he knew how to aim.
“Drop your weapon and kneel,” he said again.
She complied, the smirk on her face not even flickering as she stabbed her dagger into the soil and kneeled, ignoring the blood of the boar that soaked into her pants.
“Throw the dagger here.”
“Do you want to be clearer with that order?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He kept his face blank, raising his own in turn. She relented at last, gently tossing the dagger a few feet in front of her.
“And your belt.”
She opened her mouth, as if to argue, but then closed it before unbuckling the belt and tossing it forward. He moved around her, checking her back for any other obvious weapons as he picked up the discarded belt and dagger and added them to his own weapon harness. He noted the supply of darts and another small dagger on the belt.
“If I search you, am I going to find any more weapons?”
“I don’t know. Will you?” she said, face blank.
“I already have you on enough charges to send you to the working farms. Why make it worse for yourself?”
“What, are you going to charge me with sass?”
“Harassment of a king’s soldier.”
She rolled her eyes but slowly brought her hand to her boot and pulled out a tiny dagger that was tucked there, throwing it across to him.
“That’s it,” she said, flashing him a bright smile that looked all the more horrific with the blood drying across her face. It cracked with the movement. “I promise.”
He didn’t take her word for it, switching out his bow for his dagger as he pulled her to her feet and swiped a hand across her body, brusk in his movements. He refused to acknowledge the curves and softness beneath her clothes, but he found no other weapons.
He turned her roughly, pulling down the strip of leather that served as her mask. The splatter of blood meant the clean skin left the impression of a mask behind, but with her face fully revealed he still didn’t recognize her. Not that he expected to, but her comment had unnerved him. You .
She did appear to be about his own age, now that he could see her full face, but her plain looks with her barely visible freckles against skin the color of clay was anything but remarkable. Her eyes though—he imagined he’d remember those eyes.
Shaking off his thoughts, he turned her around roughly, pulling her hands behind her back to tie them. He silently noted the missing finger on her hand and the faded brand on the inside of her wrist, a sign that this wasn’t the first time she’d flouted the king’s laws. He brushed his thumb across the brand before he covered it with ropes and grinned.
“If you wanted to touch me, you could have asked nicely.”
“If I wanted to touch someone, it wouldn’t be you. You smell worse than the dead pig.”
He pushed her away, wiping his hands on his pants to get rid of the feel of her skin.
A red blush crept up her neck and he took a moment to appreciate he’d finally wiped the smirk off her face. He pushed her forward with a jab of his bow, sending her staggering in front of him, back the way he’d come. He was happy the afternoon sun was visible through the thick foliage above, pointing his way back south to the city.
* * *
The grace she’d exhibited in her fight with the boar was gone as they walked. She stumbled along, tripping over roots and branches with nearly every step.
“Stop falling,” he snapped after the fifth time having to catch her and pull her back upright.
“If you wanted me to touch you, you could have asked nicely,” he said, mockingly. She ignored the jab.
“Have you tried walking like this? It’s hard to stay balanced with my hands tied.”
“I suppose I could just untie you and trust you don’t try to stab me.”
“You have my weapons,” she replied as she looked at him with those unnervingly bright eyes, wide in feigned innocence. “Or are you scared of a defenseless Dragonborn?”
“I doubt you’re defenseless even without your illegal weapons.” He gave her a small shove and she nearly tripped again, letting out a string of curses.
“Be careful which gods you send to curse me or I’ll have you on heresy laws, as well.” She glared over her shoulder, but he only smiled.
“My gods wouldn’t leave any of you left to charge me.”
Her grin reminded him of the feral cat that lived in the alley behind his father’s home as if she might bite him if he got too close.
He kept them moving forward, never letting her get too far ahead. There was very little likelihood of her being able to run away while tied up, but he still didn’t trust her. Her people worshipped the rainforest and he wouldn’t be surprised if she thought being trapped alone out here was somehow better than being in Suvi. He sometimes wondered why they didn’t just throw all the Dragonborn over the city’s walls to live in the rainforest like they all so dearly wanted.
Although, that was one of the main issues with the rebel faction. Some of them did live out here, somewhere among the trees. Despite cycles of trying to smoke them out and crush their ridiculous movement, the military still hadn’t managed to do more than keep them running and hiding. They’d raided the occasional safe house within the city and arrested plenty of instigators over the cycles, but nothing had quelled the unrest the resistance stirred. Nothing had stopped the bloodshed and terror they spread through the city.
At least not yet.
He found his eyes going back to the faded, but still evident scar along her wrist—the twisted “T” branded there probably cycles ago. She’d been found guilty of treason once before, at a young enough age to escape execution or the farms or perhaps her crimes hadn’t been easy enough to prove back then. But now he had her on half a dozen charges, illegally hunting just a few miles from where Ian had found evidence of a resistance base. This could be the shift in the war they needed, an insider with a very good reason to turn on her comrades if she valued her own life. And he was going to be the one to deliver her to Chief Commander Harlow.