Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
SOFIA
S ofia let out a string of curses as she watched the faery dissipate into mist, leaving behind the dagger and nothing else. Despite her cycles of reading about the magical creatures of the rainforest and their land, she would have been happy to have never met one face-to-face.
Ocon was frozen, staring at the ground where the monster had been standing a moment before. She moved first, sensation slowly returning to her fingers and toes. She bent over and grabbed the dagger where it had fallen, wiping the black stain off on a large leaf before handing it back to Ocon.
“You’re lucky that was iron.”
He shrugged, still looking at the piece of earth where the faery had been. “I know the difference between iron and steel.”
He grabbed the dagger from her automatically, and then his eyes snapped up to hers as if registering what she was offering him.
“If you promise not to slit my throat in the middle of the night, you can keep it. It might be helpful to have a weapon against the other creatures lurking out here.”
His voice was raspy as he replied, “You think there are more… things out here?”
“Didn’t you ever wonder why your ancestors built the wall and refused to go out into the rainforest more than a few miles from the town?”
“Jaguars? Feral Dragonborn bent on killing us all?”
She winced at his phrasing, but chose to ignore it. Now that the adrenaline of fighting off the creature was draining from her, she remembered how exhausted she was and that it was still the middle of the night.
“Perhaps,” she said, instead, “but they also fear the monsters and faeries that lived here that they couldn’t control or understand.”
“You talk of faeries and shifters and monsters as if they’re fact.”
She turned to start back toward the clearing. It was only a few minutes’ walk, but her body grew heavier with every step. Ocon followed, his own steps stumbling.
“It’s because they are facts,” she said. “You can’t pretend you just dreamed that creature up.”
He gave a soft snort of laughter. “The women in my dreams usually have fewer fangs.”
“Fewer, but not zero?” She saw the whites of his eyes as he rolled them.
“Exactly.”
They fell into silence as they came back into the clearing, their small haven still hard and cold. Neither spoke, but Ocon followed her lead, gathering up whatever twigs and dry kindling he could find as she worked to relight the fire. Only after the wood was crackling did Sofia feel the tension in her shoulders loosening as she allowed the heat to suffuse her.
“Thank you,” he said.
Her head snapped up at his voice. Ocon watched her from across the fire, eyes serious.
“I need you alive,” she said, looking away from him, uncomfortable with the gaze.
“And it seems, if I want to make it out of here, I need you alive, too.”
“Look at that, we have something in common,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I know you don’t like it, and I don’t like it much either,” he said. “But I think we can admit that we need each other, at least until we’re in familiar territory.”
“Where you’ll tie me up and march me back to your people?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t have the same plan.”
“I know my plan. I just need you to know, you won’t get a chance to implement yours.”
He wrapped his cloak around him as he laid down on the ground next to the fire, but she could still hear his muffled words. “You talk big for someone who tried to shoot a faery with an arrow.”
Too tired to come up with a comeback, she chose to follow his example, lying down on the ground as close to the fire as she could without fear of being burned.
For a few minutes, the only sound in the clearing was the crackling of the fire.
“How did you know about the iron?” She watched him shuffle slightly at the sound of her question.
“Iron is darker and heavier than steel.”
“No, how did you know iron kills faeries?”
She saw the shrug of his shoulders from across the fire. “I just did. I don’t know. I probably read it somewhere in some faerytale.”
She wanted to ask what books he’d been reading that talked about Wuecan faeries. Yes, reading was banned solely for Dragonborn, but the king didn’t look kindly on any of his people reading the true histories of Wueco. Another part of her didn’t want to know the answer. Perhaps he’d read the histories from the same bookshelves she had.
Silence fell again and she let it, sinking into the sounds of the fire and the night. This time when she closed her eyes, it was to sleep with the knowledge that at least Ocon didn’t plan on killing her tonight.
* * *
They woke earlier than she wanted, but the fire went out again and the forest was lit with dawn. They could only get so much sleep huddled on the hard earth. Sofia managed to find some non-poisonous berries a few minutes from the clearing and gave Ocon a brief overview of how not to kill himself finding food, but she didn’t have the energy to hunt that morning and both of them were anxious to get moving. She didn’t know how fast shifters could run in their human forms, but if all went well, they’d be back in familiar territory by tonight. Or at least back to the tunnel.
They were lucky enough that the cool night had left behind plenty of dew and for the first time in a couple of days, Sofia didn’t feel too thirsty to think.
Still, as they walked, Ocon kept an eye out for water sources, constantly pointing to small puddles with a hopeful glint. But it hadn’t rained recently and any water was stagnant and had grown a fur coat of scum and algae. After a while he got the hint, but he continued to stare at every puddle as if it might pour forth a stream of fresh water and Sofia had to actively ignore his pouting. Her own mouth felt like sandpaper by midday, but she wasn’t going to spend energy whining about it.
“How far from the tunnel opening do you think we are?” Ocon asked. She watched as he split the bright pitahaya he was holding with his dagger and took a large bite from the flesh. His tongue flicked out to stop the juices from dripping down his chin and Sofia looked away, blinking hard. She focused back on her own fruit, which she was eating in small bites, carefully slicing one piece at a time.
She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t know, but she also didn’t want to give him more information than he already had. She’d rather it take him by surprise when they made it back to rebel territory and hit him over the head with the biggest rock she could find.
So instead of answering, she shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
“You don’t know,” he sneered.
“I’m just not telling you. I need you alive by the end of all of this, but that doesn’t require you knowing anything.”
“Why do you need me alive? Other than you asking those few questions during your little breakdown, your people didn’t ask me shit the entire time I was locked up.”
She stayed silent.
“You clearly need me for something. You wanted to know about the prison. The prisoners…”
She could feel his eyes staring at her, cold and calculating.
“You’re hoping for a prisoner exchange.”
He said it as a statement and she dug her nails into her hands, focusing on the sting and trying to keep her face blank.
“A specific prisoner perhaps? It’s clearly someone you all care about, considering you’ve never tried to save any of the Dragonborn prisoners before.”
“Don’t talk about shit you don’t know.”
Ocon continued, ignoring her simmering rage. “Did we catch your boyfriend? Girlfriend? I can’t imagine anyone caring about you .”
She threw the remnants of her pitahaya down and sprang toward him, the small dagger pressed against the soft skin of his neck a second later. His breath smelled sweet from the fruit as he looked at her, a gleam of triumph in his eyes despite the blade against his throat.
“Can’t trade a dead body, now can you?”
“Your precious chief commander already started killing the prisoners before I’d even left the city, so what do you want to bet there is no one left to save? Maybe I should take that bet and simply slit your throat here and now. I’ll leave your body at the foot of the wall and hope your people find you before the jaguars and blood monkeys do.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped and she watched his throat bob up and down with a swallow. The cocky grin was gone, replaced by a rawness.
“You just found out you’re expendable?” she said, almost wanting to laugh. “Your father couldn’t even convince Chief Commander Harlow to make the trade to save your life.”
Ocon kicked out, his boot making sharp contact with her shin. The hit reverberated through her body, and he stood as she stumbled back, his own dagger pulled and aimed at her chest.
A twig snapping echoed through the air, loud and clear above the cacophony of the forest and Sofia’s blood went cold. Ocon read the look in her eyes and his eyes narrowed.
“It could be a rabbit.”
“Too big,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. They were standing chest to chest and she felt the sharp intake of breath from him at her words.
“Run?” he asked, voice just as soft.
“Too late,” she said, eyes focusing on the movement behind him. Ocon turned and they both watched as a large gray wolf stepped out from under a large fern. Its face was bisected by a long, bloody gash across its left eye—milky white as it blinked. It gave a snarl and its body contorted, bones snapping sharply for an instant before the man stood up with a nasty grin.
“Fuck,” Ocon whispered.
“Yes,” Sofia agreed.
It was the wolfshifter that had gotten away from them before.
She whipped around at the sound of footsteps behind her and two women, just as naked as the man, prowled out of the woods, their mouths open in a mocking a smile, showing off sharp teeth. They were taller than Ocon, shoulders as broad as their male counterpart and Sofia’s stomach dropped. The shifter had returned with friends.
Ocon’s back pressed against hers and she pulled her bow, thankful she’d left the larger dagger with him.
“Any tips on killing these things?”
“Throat or heart,” she muttered, not taking her eyes off the two women. “Anything else will heal before it kills them.”
“Got it,” he said, and before the words were even out of his mouth, she felt him launch himself forward. She didn’t have time to see his attack though because the moment he moved, the two women reacted. Sofia shot the closer of the women, long black hair matted with leaves. The arrow embedded itself in her shoulder, inches from where her heart was. But Sofia’s second arrow hit true, slicing into the flesh of the shifter’s neck in a spray of blood. Sofia didn’t have time to see if the hit was enough. The other shifter was on her.
Sofia pulled the small dagger from her belt, dropping beneath the woman’s attack. The shifter was weaponless, just as the men had been, but her claws tore through Sofia’s shirt, drawing blood.
She hissed in pain as she twisted and slashed the small dagger across the woman’s heel.
The russet-haired woman growled in pain. But a moment later, Sofia went flying as the woman picked her up by her neck and threw her across the clearing. She landed, groaning, and the woman was already flying at her again, still fast despite her prominent limp.
Sofia rolled, the small dagger still clenched in her fist. As the woman moved to grab her once more, Sofia twisted again, trying to aim for her throat, but the shifter blocked each attempt. On her fifth attempt, the woman blocked her neck once more, but Sofia bent this time, her knife dragged across the shifter’s intact heel. She slashed at her calves a few times for good measure as the woman screamed, rolling away from Sofia. She crouched for a moment, bloody dagger still raised, but the woman only stumbled in her attempt to stand.
Her bow was lying on the ground, beside the body of the black-haired shifter. She reached out, grabbing it quickly and sending an arrow into the woman’s chest, hoping she hit the shifter’s heart.
She searched for Ocon and saw him a few yards away, breathing heavily. He looked feral standing there, splattered with blood, hair fallen out of the knot at the top of his head. The shifter was on the ground, bleeding out from his side and neck, though it was difficult to see how deep the wounds were.
“ Now we run!” she said, grabbing him as she started to sprint.
He didn’t argue, perhaps for the first time in his life. He didn’t even pulled his hand from hers until they were already a few minutes away.
“I think we’re good,” he said between breaths.
“They can track and we don’t know if there are more of them,” she said, trying to ignore the burning in her own chest. “We don’t stop until we’re out of their territory.”
“How far is that?” he asked, dodging around a tree with impressive grace.
“No idea,” she said, hating to admit it even to herself. Her lungs were starting to burn and she felt her throat closing up ever so slowly. She’d be lucky if she made it another half-mile at this pace, but slowing down wasn’t an option.
The echo of a branch breaking in the distance made her stomach skip a beat. Looking at Ocon, she saw in the pale set of his features that he’d heard the same thing and knew what it meant.
“They’ll catch up to us. We can’t outrun them.”
“So what do you suggest?” The words growled out, but she heard the fear beneath the tone. The terror in her own chest tightened even more, each breath taking in less and less air.
She needed to think before she ran out of air completely. She studied the landscape as they ran, and when she made out a small outcrop of rocks ahead, she thought she might be imagining them out of pure desperation.
With a sharp turn to her right, she headed straight toward the rocks. Ocon followed, reading her intentions.
“I don’t know if I’m going to fit,” he said slowing down as he saw the small crevice she was eyeing.
“Yes, you are,” she said with a confidence she did not possess. The words wheezed out, but she didn’t slow her pace.
“You first.” She didn’t wait for him to reply, pushing him sideways into the small gap between the two rocks. He gave a yelp, face going pale as she pressed him harder until she felt the give and he slipped through. She followed a second later, the sound of running growing louder behind her.
The rocks opened up almost immediately into a cave. Ocon was pressed against the side wall, watching out the crack with wide eyes.
Sofia turned, raising her bow in time to see a large russet wolf jump at the opening they had just slipped through. With practiced movements she shot two arrows directly into its neck. It gave a yelp and a small whimper before it collapsed back, still.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Ocon chanted behind her, looking out over her shoulder. “Is it dead? Are there others? Should we keep running?”
Sofia turned, opening her mouth in an attempt to answer, but all that came out was a wheeze and a gasp. The band around her chest tightened and her knees gave out. She fell forward, Ocon’s arms coming out to catch her before she hit the stone floor of the cave.