Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Soon, heat dissolved our ability to make conversation to pass the time.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the blistering glare and the wind driving small shards of sand sideways. Occasionally, I’d glance up to make sure Poppy was still in front of me.
No matter how many times she read her damn map, we were no closer to our destination.
Once the sun dipped below the dunes, the temperature plummeted. It was as if someone flipped a switch, turned off the light and shoved us from an oven to a freezer.
I’d wanted it cold? I was an idiot. My teeth chattered and undried sweat encased me in ice.
“We’ll stop here,” Poppy finally said. “At least I’ve got blankets.”
A sharp crag of rocks offered no overhang. Yet Poppy pounded out her tent amidst the sand until a shelter of sorts sagged against the outcropping.
We huddled side by side. The blankets she’d packed, coarse and thick, kept most of the wind at bay but did little for the chill.
“It’s all going to be fine,” she muttered. “I didn’t think it would take us this long, but it’ll be fine.”
“I bet you’re really wishing we hadn’t met right now, aren’t you?” I managed to get out between shivers.
“I’ve been thinking about it for years. Longer than you’ve been alive,” she joked.
“I think most people who meet me have the same idea. I bring trouble.”
“You do bring trouble. But look at what else you bring. All those people we left back at camp? They wouldn’t be friendly with each other, wouldn’t be damn near close to family without you.”
I hunched smaller. “And I’ve ruined the lives of more than half of them.”
“They wouldn’t stand with you if they didn’t care. Hell, Tavi, you know me. You know I’m not the kind of person to stick it out if I’m pissed off or indisposed. Kit taught me that. So if I’m still here, helping you survive in this desert, then you know to shut your mouth.”
I stifled a grin at the ire in Poppy’s voice. Somehow I’d helped eradicate the silver bindings that leashed her to a cruel master. Whatever happened to Kit, I hoped he rotted where he belonged.
Poppy tapped my knee. “Stop your worries. They’re louder here. The only way we’re going to survive is to keep our wits, which you can’t do if you’re moping.”
I leaned into the warmth of her body, our exhales little white gusts in the semi-dark of the makeshift shelter. If I could only get a grip on myself, I might be able to conjure a fire with my Fae magic.
Or did the Dryad protection spells prevent that, too?
The span between what I knew and what I still had to learn never felt so vast before. If Poppy’s witch magic didn’t work here, would mine?
Demanding my fingers to move or my brain to remember the spell words yielded nothing. Too tired to make fire.
Poppy yawned. “Get some sleep, girl. We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.”
I might have dozed at one point. I might have had a small break from reality, if not pleasant dreams, until a screech cut through to my consciousness.
Wind battered the flaps, tugging it until the pinions strained and the elements reached for us.
Assuming the noise I’d heard was just the wind, I settled again and might have gotten the rest needed…if the sound hadn’t come again and close enough to lift the hairs on my neck.
“Poppy—”
Her name erupted a split second before the tent ripped free. There in the gloaming, multiple pairs of glinting eyes latched on us. My stomach dropped, my mouth dry.
Then the creatures attacked.
Our shelter was a disadvantage. The creatures trapped us against the rock cliffs at our backs and circled, moving as one unit.
Interlocking rectangular scales covered their bodies as teeth and claws clacked together.
Sparse patches of hair extended from their ears and red eyes glinted under starlight.
Whatever these things were, they’d adapted well to the environment, and my gut sank lower.
“Be careful.” Poppy circled with them, always keeping the largest beast in eyesight. “Tawtin are violent.”
Tawtin looked like armadillos with rabies and overgrown nails but the gnash of their pointed front teeth spoke truth to her words.
Poppy threw up her hands, the sputtering of magic dying out before the spell was even cast. Instead she blasted the first line of Tawtin with powder from a satchel around her waist. Some yelped when the powder made contact, while most, rather than going down, bent to the side, and the powder bounced harmlessly off their scales.
She tried again with another blast of powder but this one the wind stole. A muttered curse had her reaching over her shoulders for two swords she must have brought from camp, dragging them free and holding them menacingly in front of her.
The first Tawtin reached us. I shoved exhaustion into a tight box in my head and shifted my claws, stepping between Poppy and the creature at the last moment. I slashed before it touched her and my claws buried into soft flesh. The Tawtin yelped, jumping in retreat and cradling its face.
“The desert. My magic is useless.” Poppy’s cry was an arrow through my chest as I slashed at the next creature. “I can’t help you!”
One of them hissed and they all bent, tightening their circle, defending against my half-shifted arm and Poppy’s swords.
“What’s the best way to kill them?” My ribs ached and the question came out thin and breathy.
“You’re asking me? Try something and see if it works!”
Running on adrenaline, I pressed my spine to hers, so we always had the Tawtin in front of us. I had my wolf and my Fae powers, unless those would sputter and die here too.
Poppy adjusted the swords in her grip, widened her stance, and stared down the creatures with a daring glint in her eye.
For half a heartbeat, the determined set of her lips reminded me of Mike.
Then Poppy attacked without warning, without hesitation. She broke their circle with vicious slashes and green blood sprayed, quickly gobbled by sand.
It prompted me into motion as well and I shifted my other arm, dark fur sprouting along my forearm.
My claws lengthened and I buried them in the nearest Tawtin.
The armadillo scales on its shoulders absorbed most of the blow but my index finger wedged between its neck and scales, a soft and easy to manipulate area.
It chittered, wrenching free and sprinkling the sand with more green blood.
Her magic might not work…but thank fuck mine did.
I pushed it out with each slash, my next hit almost slicing through the Tawtin’s neck. Its head clung on by a few muscles and tendons before it fell sideways, silent. Several creatures reared away in hesitation.
Then the bravest of the group increased the speed of their attacks.
I shifted completely into my wolf form, quicker on my feet, lighter, more deadly. Elation at being freed took a backseat only to the feral lust to eradicate the enemy.
Poppy sliced her way through them with precision. Heart in my throat, I did the same, moving from one to the other.
The desert took her magic from her.
But not from me.
The more I used it, the more I spun a web of power between Fae and wolf, the more natural it became, a thread of strength twining through my entire system. Unflappable. I clung tight to the magic as we cut our way through the Tawtin.
Green blood coated and clung to my fur.
These weren’t nearly as terrifying as the Burrendigger had been, although there were more Tawtin to handle. This world, outside the manipulative power plays and emotionally destructive games of Eahsea, held wonders. And horrors.
Whatever kind of magic was out there that hadn’t been taught at either academy, I’d become a part of it.
And yet…
I breathed heavily and bled from a gash in my side when the last Tawtin fell. Poppy stood over the creature and buried her swords between its eyes. It died with a final whooshing exhale from its lungs before the silence of Prospi crept in.
I shivered, going down on my stomach and shifting back to human.
“It’s a good thing you brought those.” I jerked my chin toward the swords and the leather straps now visible on her back. “Stolen?”
Her cloak hung to the side around her neck. Poppy slid her weapons home and readjusted her cloak.
“Borrowed. I learned long ago to never leave home without ’em. It would be nice to have some built-in weapons, though. Those claws of yours come in handy.”
I pushed up to my feet and held a hand against the wound in my side. Another rush of magic, a small tug, sent my intention toward the tear. I had no clue how to heal myself but these cuts and scrapes had to be handled or else I’d risk infection.
Seconds ticked by before my skin pulled together, and I waited for the inevitable drain of ebbing strength.
Nothing.
This small magic cost me nothing.
So much had changed.
There was no way to go back now.
Muscles trembled and my arms hung loose at my sides.
Poppy wiped her hands on the front of her pants and straightened with a crack of bone. “Well. We should try to get some sleep.”
My heart would never slow down enough to get sleep. “Are you kidding?”
“I never kid about sleep. When you’re as old as I am, you know it’s the only way to keep functioning.”
“We were attacked. There could be more of them.”
We’d never see them coming, either. Not when they took to the sands like dolphins in the ocean. They could sandworm us the second we fell asleep.
Her eyes met mine. “If you don’t sleep, then you won’t be able to make it tomorrow. You get what I’m saying?”
“You’re talking to me like I’m a kid,” I muttered.
“You’re acting like one.”
Maybe later I’d be grateful for the humbling chat. Right now, I stifled a groan no one cared to hear.
She repaired the tent, setting it at a different angle to combat the battering ram of wind. Sleep might have found her, judging by the sharp grating snores, but I lay awake for far too long.
Eventually I pried my eyes open to anemic sunlight heralding another scorcher.
We packed up our tent and supplies, and squinting against the light, I took in the carnage the night had erased. Sand already covered the bodies of the Tawtin in shallow graves.