47. Tobias
Chapter forty-seven
Tobias
B efore he went looking for the captain, Tobias did a lap of Wesburg. He supposed it might count as searching for Javen, but he doubted the man was anywhere within the confines of the small town.
Rather, it was Tobias’s conscience he needed to clear, before he could find Javen.
The town’s sole telegram office was little more than a lean-to shack, resting against the side of the general store.
Once inside, Tobias took the top sheet from the pile of telegram forms, ignoring the calculating glare from the clerk.
It was easy enough to fill out the top fields; his name, the address it should be delivered to.
He left the recipient’s name as unknown, and hoped that it would still reach the destination.
“We close up in half an hour,” the clerk said. “Don’t take too long.’
The graphite pencil in his hand felt slick with sweat. With careful block letters, knowing he’d pay for each one, Tobias spelled out a message.
Cpt. J is a good man. Nothing to report.
The title cost him extra letters, but he couldn’t refer to Javen so casually, not even in a message that amounted to spying on him.
“Right.” The clerk grabbed the paper, skimmed it over, and turned to his desk. With one hand, he started tapping out the message. The dots and dashes that would seal Tobias’s fate.
With the last echoing taps ringing in his ears, Tobias left .
He took his motorbike into the woods, as far as it could go on the uneven terrain.
Only then did he walk heading toward that same desolate burned bit of land Javen had taken him to.
As Tobias neared the edge of the scorched clearing, movement flickered between the trees.
He stilled, hand hovering near his pistol.
A blur of dark hair and pale limbs burst from the underbrush, sprinting through the forest toward him. The child’s face was streaked with dirt. For one stunned heartbeat, Tobias simply stared. What was a little girl doing out here in the rubble and ash?
She spotted him just as he reached her, throwing up her hands for him to lift her up. “Help!” Her bright eyes seemed to glow in the night, almost as much as the stars overhead. “They… I won’t go with them!”
“With who?”
“Up!” she commanded. “You’re taller. You can run.”
Tobias certainly could run, though he’d prefer to know just who, or what, he was running from.
He studied the girl. She was muddy, but not apparently hurt, nor in any sort of physical danger.
In fact, the stubborn set of her jaw almost reminded him of…
Tobias shook his head. He’d spent far, far too much time with Captain Javen if he was seeing the man reflected in an obstinate little kid.
Their only similarity was their dark hair and annoyed glare, though her eyes were an unearthly purple shade, almost the color of iris flowers.
“We need to go!” She tugged on his arm. “Help!”
Her panic cleared his thoughts. There was no way she’d be able to walk all the way back to Wesburg by herself. He set her on his hip, the way he used to carry his youngest sister. “Who are you running from?”
“The fae,” she mumbled. “The Oath-Oath-born.”
By the time she finished stuttering on the word, Tobias was already running, the child’s weight heavy in his arms. Oathborn. Searching for a child? To do what? Feed her to Blood Ember? He shuddered, and picked up his pace.
She clung to him, her arms tight around his neck. Her weight slowed him down but he certainly wasn’t going to abandon her .
Not even if it felt pointless. What chance did he have of outrunning those supernatural warriors?
That was just it. He had no chance at all.
If they were close by, they would hunt him down like a wolf taking down a rabbit.
It was not his safety that mattered in the end, but the child’s.
She was innocent, young, no more than four years old.
He had to keep her safe. Swiftly, he set her down, holding one finger to his lips to motion for her to be quiet, and the other digging in his pocket.
With a small sigh of relief, he found the small bracelet.
It fit her perfectly, sliding tightly over her wrist. Nothing happened, no flare of magical fire or sparks, but he had to believe the item’s spell was activated, just like Javen said it would be.
Only now did it hit him, that the bracelet probably had been made for a child. Javen had warned him the magic was intended for someone much smaller than a full-grown man. Now he understood. It was protection for a little one, keeping the worst monsters at bay.
Perhaps Javen had it made, knowing that his service in the war would have made many enemies. Could his wife have crafted it, if she was a fae? And if so, how precious was the bracelet to Javen?
But it would keep the child safe, even if its use would anger the captain. Tobias, if he survived long enough, would find a justification for his actions.
“Go!” he told her. “Keep running. They won’t be able to find you now.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Never-ever?”
“Go!” he shouted again. “Keep running and you’ll be in the village soon.”
“With Miss Maye,” she replied.
“Yes, sure. I guess!” Tobias’s heart was thudding hard against his ribs. He had no idea how well the magic would work, if she was now completely invisible, nor what would happen if the Oathborn found him. “Go!”
Finally, she took off and started to run. The dying sunlight glinted on the silver bracelet.
Please, Tobias thought. Let it keep her safe. Let me have done at least this one small thing right .
Even if he was to die, now, or later, once he admitted he no longer had the bracelet. Even if he was demoted or sent to prison for defying the order to find Javen as quickly as possible. This child’s life—any child’s life—was worth those risks.
Tobias stood there, alone, in the forest. He reached down with a trembling hand to his radio. “Javen?” he called out, though the man had ignored every summons before. “Sir, are you—”
A sound crackled back, something like a hoarse shout. Cold sweat broke out on Tobias’s skin. Wherever the captain was, he was in as much trouble, if not more, than Tobias. He tried the radio again, and again, there was no answer.
Instead, nearby, Tobias heard voices… and these were not speaking Rhydonian.