34. Blinded by Loss
Blinded by Loss
Larissa
L arissa’s body ached against the rough vibrations of the truck bed. Heat radiated from her body, baking in what she could only assume was the midday sun.
The blindfold around her eyes prevented her from confirming her suspicions.
Her stiff hands reached for the cloth only to scream against the pain in her bound and blood-crusted wrists. Blood. Anara!
Larissa kicked her legs, attempting to swing herself up into a sitting position, only to find them bound as well.
“She’s awake!” Something pounded on the cab of the truck. “Stop fidgeting.”
Larissa froze. “Where are you taking me?”
“Quiet.”
“What about my friend? Where is she?”
“The bleeding girl? She’s here too.” The man scoffed. “We should’ve left her; she’s half-dead anyway.”
Larissa’s head turned as if she'd forgotten her eyes could not see. “Can I check on her?”
“I said be quiet.” His tone allowed no argument.
Larissa clenched her jaw, the burning around her wrists intensified as she strained against the binding. No matter how she tried, the restraints were too tight. Besides, there was no way of knowing how many sentries guarded her. There was nothing she could do except wait.
Impatience rose within her like a scream building in her throat.
Larissa wanted to lash out against whoever had taken her and check on Anara, but the fight and fury had drained from her body.
The galdr she felt before was long gone, leaving her an empty, useless vessel once again.
At least Darien and Halla were not with them.
Larissa prayed to the AEsir that they would make it out of Perle and find their way to safety; they could not help her now.
No one could.
Larissa and Anara were on their own. If she was honest, Larissa expected to meet the Grand Empress long before ever seeing Halla again.
Tears gathered in her eyes, and Larissa found herself grateful for the blindfold that covered them. She would not show weakness to these men. She would gather her strength, then free them both. Until then, she could only wait.
And wait.
Minutes dragged into hours as the ridges of the truck bed dug into Larissa’s side. Occasionally, she could hear the rustle of her captor as he tried to make himself more comfortable and his curses when he failed.
When she stretched out her legs, her bare feet touched another body.
Though there was no verbal response, Larissa was certain it was Anara.
If she kept very still, Larissa could feel the rise and fall of Anara’s breaths.
As time passed, Larissa stretched out again and again to check on her, reassured by the faint movements as she counted the girl’s shallow breaths.
Once or twice, she struggled to find that reassurance, and Larissa’s desperation nearly suffocated her until she could find the pattern again.
Thoughts of Darien and Halla threatened to consume her.
Were they alive? Captured? Dead? When she could stand it no longer, Larissa reached out, matching her breathing to Anara’s own rhythm.
They were alive. As long as they held breath, they had a chance.
The sharp squeal of tires was like music to Larissa’s ears. She knew that squeal. They were riding in Helga. Of course they were. Faithful Helga had made it out with them, wherever they were heading. The movement beneath her stopped.
“About time,” the man muttered.
Heavy footsteps circled the truck, followed by the high-pitched screech of the tailgate’s lock.
“They’re still following us,” another voice called out. “Let’s get them out of here.”
Larissa’s mind struggled to understand. Who would follow sentries?
The man beside Larissa spat. “Halvor better be ready to explain why we risked so much for these two.”
She couldn’t help herself. “Who’s Halvor?”
“None of your business,” the man snarled.
Large hands grasped Larissa’s arms, yanking her off her feet. She thrashed, her legs searching for a target. “Let me go!”
“Would you rather fall off this truck and break your neck?”
“Maybe,” she snapped.
The hands lowered her until her feet touched the bed. She shuffled one foot at a time, convinced the edge could not be that far. At the prod from behind, she took another step. Her foot fell through the air just as the hand caught a fistful of her jacket.
“Next time, I’ll let you fall,” he hissed in her ear.
“Enough, Jari,” the other voice ordered. “Lower her down.”
The man swooped her into his arms only to drop her into thin air. She stifled a gasp as she fell into another set of arms. But these hands were gentle as they righted her feet on the ground and led her to sit on the grass a few feet away from the heavy exhaust.
“I’m going to remove your blindfold, but if you try to run, I’ll put it back on. Do you understand?”
Larissa flinched against the sudden onslaught of light, blinking as the sunbeams filtered through the trees.
Helga idled off to her left; there was no road in sight.
On her right, a wall of rocks stretched indefinitely in either direction.
She tilted her head back. Unable to find the top of the cliffs, she was forced to look away before vertigo could set in.
The two men lowered Anara, laying her to rest beside Larissa. Anara’s shirt was shorn just above her stomach. Dried blood crusted the jagged edges of the fabric. Tight bandages wrapped her entire abdomen, but the deep red stain revealed the shape of the wound beneath them.
A shadow fell over Larissa, blocking out the sun. Her mouth fell open at the sight of the man before her. How had she not noticed his size?
He towered over them, seeming as broad as he was tall.
As though sensing his own physical presence, he curved his shoulders inward, not that it would fool anyone.
He would have to cut off his own legs to make a difference.
Surely if the giants from Pappa’s stories had ever existed, a descendent of the Jotnar stood before Larissa today.
She forced her mouth shut. He watched her, a curious expression on his face. Five shallow scratches ran down his forearm right where Larissa knew she had clawed at her attacker.
She’d never stood a chance.
The giant-like man crouched down beside her. “My name is Haki.”
Larissa held her tongue, silent even as Haki waited with surprisingly kind and inquisitive eyes. She’d never seen anything but superiority and contempt in the face of a sentry before. While this man wore their clothes and their weapons, he looked nothing like them. His gaze drifted to Anara.
“What happened to your friend?” he asked Larissa.
She bristled. “Like you don’t know.”
The other man, the one called Jari, walked into view. Like Haki, his size was intimidating, though he was slightly thinner. No wonder he’d been able to lift her like a rag doll.
Larissa’s eyes darted between the two men. “You’re twins.”
Jari snorted. “Oh really, we never would’ve known.”
An armored sentry truck skidded to a stop next to Helga, silencing Larissa’s retort.
The three-diamond crest was painted on the sides.
Just the sight of it was enough for Larissa’s pulse to quicken.
A man dressed in black gear emerged, his face hidden by the door as he struggled with the captive still inside.
With a final heave, the sentry wrenched his blindfolded victim from the vehicle, and Larissa’s hope shattered.
Darien.
“Careful,” the sentry barked to Jari, shoving Darien down beside Larissa. “This one’s got an attitude.”
Still blinded, Darien swung upward with bound hands. “Untie me, and say that to my face.”
On the opposite side of the truck, another door opened, but the driver was hidden from view. Larissa scooted toward Darien, who pulled against his restraints. Like her, he was barefoot, most likely a tactic to keep them both from running.
“Darien.”
He stilled, his head turning toward the sound of her voice. “Lara?”
“Yes, and Anara. I thought you and Halla had escaped.”
Darien’s face paled. “I’m so sorry, Lara.”
Fear pinched the back of her neck. “Where’s Halla?”
“She woke up as we were running. We got separated. I was attacked; I told Halla to run, but a group of thraell came out of nowhere. I tried to follow her, but they knocked me out. When I came to, I was alone. Lara, I’m so sorry. Larissa?”
His words crashed over her. After everything she’d done, none of it mattered.
Halla was gone.