Chapter 51 Dae
Dae
The camp was the same as it had always been when I stepped outside and deeply inhaled the evening air.
Tents remained in their usual places. Smoke from several nearby fire pits cascaded into the sky.
That clinging uncertainty of threat and death still lurked around every corner. Nothing had changed.
Yet, it had all shifted.
My senses heightened, observing each blade of flattened grass, every pair of tense shoulders, every set of assessing eyes.
I continued through this shit hole, steps never faltering as I passed people I would never mourn.
My only role had been to conform, to become so much a part of this operation that my presence became invisible.
In that, I’d lost myself. Now, as if I’d slipped back into my humanity, the weight of the circumstances shone with blinding clarity.
Threats were all around. The stakes were higher. Another responsibility was added to my shoulders—keep Ro alive and get her out of here.
I walked into Garris’s tent, ignoring the member with a black eye and busted lip. Not an unusual sight in this camp.
Garris glimpsed me from over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be out of salve just yet.” He returned to mixing a concoction for the waiting patient.
I didn’t want anyone to overhear, so I made my way to the backroom where he kept his supplies. He was startled when he turned to find me crowding his space.
“I need a birth control tonic,” I whispered.
He paused, staring. If he put two and two together, which he’d be rather dim if he didn’t, it didn’t show on his face.
He finished grinding whatever herbs were in his mortar and set it on a shelf, bending low to scan his cataloged inventory.
Skipping a few jars, he reached for a bottle of amber liquid with floating specks in it.
He fiddled with a few empty jars, grabbing a smaller one and uncorking the bottle, transferring the murky liquid. “It’s ideal if used before the act, but the one dose should counter for an entire week.” He handed it to me. “If she’s in need of an exam, send her after dark to my personal quarters.”
“An exam?” I questioned.
“When the female form is unwilling, there is damage that can be done. It’s best if—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rage ignited in my blood, the beast inside me screaming to claw its way out and rip this entire camp to shreds.
“Many of the women in camp find themselves bleeding after—”
I grabbed Garris by the collar of his shirt, straining it to the point that threads snapped. “If that happens to anyone in this camp, you tell me.” Blood pounded in my ears, almost drowning out his reply.
“Healer-patient confidentiality, I can’t—”
“You can and you will, or the next time you see me I’ll be on four paws, and I’ll be starving,” I threatened, my voice grave and low.
He blinked and gulped, providing the subtlest of nods before I released my hold, his heels slamming back onto the floor.
I’d known it when I’d stormed out of my tent.
Known it when I remained on high alert during my walk here.
The Dae before a beautiful woman shot an arrow into my leg was gone, and in his place stood the man he should have been all along.
The one who would never turn a blind eye to people being hurt and abused.
Suddenly, the balancing act of hiding mine and Ro’s secrets while keeping up my charade became impossible to perform.
I set on crossing the camp until I reached Delia, but Kasia unexpectedly stepped in my path. Ballsy of her to get in my way when I clearly had somewhere to be.
“What.” I grumbled, peering over her head in the direction I should currently be walking.
“Ro’s tent has been set up. Let me show you where, seeing as I can’t find her and you’ve claimed responsibility for her,” she said, her dark brown eyes that matched her ochre skin glimmering with boredom.
“She doesn’t need it.” I growled, moving to step around her, but she blocked me. My irritation soared to new heights. “What are yo—”
“It would be rather suspicious if she didn’t sleep in her assigned quarters, no? One might think she has allegiances that shouldn’t exist.” She flicked her gaze to mine. Her statement was stern, but not entirely threatening. “And that would be very dangerous.”
It was a warning.
I inhaled sharply, not breaking my stare. “It would be.” My jaw clenched together so tightly that my teeth might crack.
She dropped her gaze, returning to her unbothered persona. “Good. I’ll record it once I show you. Follow me.” Without another word, she walked off.
I replayed the conversation in my head as I followed, trying to break down the nuances, to figure out her intent. She had a warrior’s build, one that explained how she could speak with all the confidence in the world to a much larger individual, and leave her back exposed.
We approached the newly set up tent, and she stopped outside of it, staring down at her clipboard. “Standard regulation. Single bed. The rest to be earned and retrieved by herself.” She ticked off her duties. I watched, letting my silence ask the questions.
Without lifting her eyes from her paperwork, she said in a voice so low that no one else should have been able to hear it, “There’s a meeting tonight.
Starting now, actually, to accommodate for tomorrow’s assignments.
I’ve written it down in my notes here, where anyone might be able to glance at it if they saw over my shoulder. ”
“Assignments?” My chest tightened. I’d involved myself in the logistics of food retrieval so I could keep tabs on the convoys that were sent south, so I could communicate through a secret code to warn my brothers if The Order had hints on their whereabouts.
With no further exchange, Kasia departed, flipping through papers like she had more tasks to complete.
Strange. She’d never made more conversation with me than required, but the squeezing concern of a travel party I had no knowledge of had me moving. I did my best not to full-on sprint to the meeting tent. Instead, I walked briskly until stepping inside with all the casual grace I usually possessed.
The air weighed heavier than normal in the small space. Faces glanced up at me, most dismissive. Carmin straightened from her leaning position over the table, crossing her arms.
“I don’t recall summoning you for this.” She cocked her hip to the side.
“Didn’t want to shirk my duties,” I lied, playing the ever submissive member.
“Well we’re doing things a little differently this week. Not quite sure where you’ll serve best. We’re setting up a couple different convoys,” she said, returning her attention to the map.
Another member named Jacko pointed to a red pin on the map, the southernmost town in Windguard. “Basemount. Rumors have been circulating about a few new townsfolk appearing over the past several weeks. We might have forced The Kraanti down there, and now they’re trapped.”
“If that’s them,” Roiden countered, running his leather gloved hands through his waist-length chestnut hair.
The cut out holes for his fingers exposed tattoos I wondered might someday be covered by the spreading dark magic running through his veins.
That’s probably why most wore a thick streak of kohl across their eyes, to hide how sickly it made them look.
“Those slippery bastards could be anywhere,” he continued.
“What’s that?” Carmin asked, nodding to the jar still clutched in my hand.
“Salve for my leg,” I lied smoothly, gripping the jar tighter to conceal it from prying fucking eyes.
“Make sure you stay on top of that. You’ll be a good little kitty and go where we send you, and we’d hate to have to put a lame cat down.” Menace lit her dark eyes.
Of course that would be her only concern. We were all expendable, vessels to carry out their orders and nothing more. She returned her attention to the map.
The meeting finished without any concrete plans, which meant I still had time. I needed Delia’s insights. Despite trying to keep my appearance unbothered, panic wrapped my thoughts like a python. Basemount was where The Kraanti had recently been holding up.
I’d yet to figure out what The Order had been waiting for, but I suspected for a long time it was to get their hands on that magic. The last known elemental wielders in Windguard resided within The Kraanti.
By the time I crossed the camp, the sun settled below the trees.
The prisoners’ area had also fallen under my new spell.
It looked exactly the same, the people unchanged from earlier, but the entire landscape fell under a dreary fog.
The prisoners were empty shells of the people they once were.
How had I grown to ignore it? To act as if it wasn’t absolutely appalling that they were kept in these decaying conditions?
I seldom made visits here regardless, and especially never at night. I hadn’t wanted to risk looking like I was hiding something by skulking in the shadows. But resolve bred with fury and forged new life.
Delia folded clothes near the fire. I regretted the decision I made the instant it crossed my mind, but I pushed through. I kicked the basket of folded clothes, spilling the contents onto the ground at her feet. She startled, her chains rattling as she flinched.
I bent down and picked up a shirt, waving it in her face. “Are you trying to pass dirty clothes as clean? Folding them so you think we won’t notice?” I yelled, briefly drawing attention from a few of those on patrol before they lost interest.
She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—”
I crouched, as if whispering something menacing in her personal space, baring my teeth. “They’re departing for Basemount soon.”
The fear that glazed her eyes was real, but perfectly complemented the relationship we portrayed. “Fox,” she whispered.
“They’ll be alright,” I tried to assure her, but the doubt spreading in my chest felt as sickly as the veins of The Eleven looked. My grip tightened on the jar in my hand. “Hey, has anyone in the camp taken…liberties with any of you?”
The way she stiffened made it feel as if I swallowed the fire blazing beside us. “Who.” I growled.
Her eyes targeted the southeastern posted guard.
“Shaved head?” I clarified.
She nodded. “Not me.” With a tiny gesture, she directed my attention to the beat up man I’d seen earlier in Garris’s tent.
Rage and guilt battled for first place. I’d walked right past him and ignored it. My stomach twisted over the fact that an injured person had become so commonplace that I was unfeeling at the sight. I stood, throwing the crumpled up clean shirt on the log beside her.
I scanned the camp, balling my fists and squeezing impatiently, as if so angered by Delia’s incompetence that I was itching for some way to take out my anger.
When my gaze settled on a seemingly random target, I pointed my finger at him.
“You.” I stalked toward him. He puffed on a homemade cigar, narrowing his eyes at me.
“What?” He blew out a puff of smoke into the cooling night air.
“Fighting ring. Half an hour.”
He grinned, his rotting teeth reflecting the state of his soul. “You’re on.”