Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Samick took my words to heart—and absorbed them.
For a few more days and nights of darkness, we walk, we stop, we eat, we rest, and then we walk again.
He doesn’t speak to me.
And, finally, we come across an inferno blazing in the dark.
The flames burn so high and hot that the blackout fades from our boots.
I look down and see my laces shifting with each swift step I take up the uneven road. I didn’t tie them tight enough for the long walk, but there’s no time to stop now.
A lace lashes against the side of my boot.
Potholes litter the ground beneath me, until Samick tugs on the tether and I’m yanked over to the dirt bordering the road.
He isn’t patient as he takes me off-path, the straight shot to the burning town, and instead we go around the blaze, through dirt and puddles and shadows.
The rush to get to the unit washes away any fear I had.
If I was smarter, I would feel the urge to turn and run in the other direction, or drop my weight to the earth and force Samick to literally drag my ass back to the unit.
But all I can think is that I’m so close to the unit that I’m close to the promise of a campfire and a meal and a rest.
And all of that brings me closer to Bee.
So my legs move as quickly as they can, cutting through shadows and puddles, and my breaths are turning ragged.
I draw on the scraps of the inhaler.
Samick hasn’t taken it back yet.
I hope he has another for me in his satchel. A replacement for this one that I’ve been sucking dry for a while now.
Maybe he doesn’t take it away because he doesn’t give me a moment to rest. And by the time we reach the outskirts of the fiery town, and I’m led to the edge of the perimeter, where the flames don’t cross or jump buildings, my lungs are burning themselves.
We stop.
At the edge of the border, the general patrols on her creepy horse, the one with crimson eyes. She considers us as she passes, then she turns her chin and continues her patrol of the boundary.
I look to the buildings that are being devoured by flames. So close that the heat of the hungry fire sears my cheeks—and I welcome it.
The warmth in the dark.
But the flames are getting too hot, too bright, climbing too high, and the unit starts to finish up before they can be taken down with the town.
I watch as humans are thrown into the group of kuris and evates. Less guards circle them now, about half of what used to be, and there are even less people.
Might have lost some in the hailstorm—or maybe something else happened in the time we’ve been gone.
The unit forms a line, then marches out of the town. Their pattern holds, and as they join us up the road, gazes flickering to us, frowns grazing each one of us, I look at Samick—and expect him to throw me in with the human captives.
It’s the pattern.
The town burns.
The unit watches.
And I’m with the other humans while that happens.
But he only holds the tether, though he doesn’t have to, since it’s tied to his belt.
He does watch, but not with the same fever as the others.
Arwyn doesn’t watch at all.
He picks at his nails with the tip of a blade.
Mika, stronger now, raises her chin with a sense of pride, and the flames reflect in her eyes.
But even with the town burning, and their tradition of watching, other warriors still glance at us.
Curious, lingering gazes; frowns; grim looks that hang over us a moment too long.
And from the peak of the line, the general sits on her hairless horse, her chin raised and eyes narrowed on us.
My spine prickles under her steady stare.
She considers us, each one of us, then glances around the blaze, as though she’ll spot more of the missing fae. Shark or Rust or any of the other ones that died, the one with the scar, the one that looked like an orange fizz drink stuffed into a body.
But it’s only us.
And her jaw clenches before she turns her steed—
And leads the way into the dark.
Not once does Samick let go of the tether.