Chapter 29 #2
Then he held a simple yellow-brown belt above his head, presenting it to the room which roared in approval, and Iryana stared at the bronze arrowhead-shaped mounts attached along the belt.
Those mounts were awarded to soldiers and officers who individually contributed to a great defeat of an enemy—normally in a large ceremony where the story of the bravery and service to the military was recounted, not unexplained and at a soldier’s first belting.
Karvek draped the belt over her shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “We are going to do great things.”
Iryana felt the urge to run, to escape whatever the award meant, but she held the belt over her heart instead.
When she stood and faced the brigade again, met their stares, she realized what Karvek was doing. Her loyalty was to him alone; her victories were for him alone. She did not know what it truly meant, though. Would it protect her? Put a target on her back? Keep her isolated from the others?
Iryana went to stand with her team, finding herself beside Vaneshta, finding her roommate and new sergeant staring.
There was worry in Vaneshta’s eyes. “Congratulations, Sena.”
“And you, Sergeant.”
The hall was a crowded mess of celebration; everyone seemed to take advantage of the extra vodka and ale available. Iryana clutched her drink, constantly moving through the crowds, counting down to the moment she could finally slip away.
Her new belt was strapped around her waist, and eyes lingered on the bronze arrows wherever she went.
“Congratulations, Sena,” someone said as she walked past, for the twentieth time.
“Thank you,” she answered with a forced smile on her face. This was what she had wanted. She couldn’t let them see the turmoil she hid.
She hadn’t seen Pyetar yet, and she intended to keep it that way. He knew she was trying to help her family, knew that she had likely told them where the metal well was. Had he known it wasn’t enough? That she had no idea, no plan, to help them? That she was trapped here?
It was best to avoid him and not find out.
Iryana slipped through another crowd, and her eyes landed on glassy eyes, dark veins, and then she was reeling backwards.
The man high on the Beast's Poppy was being pushed back and forth between his friends as they laughed. His feet barely touched the floor as the effect of the poppy made him nearly weightless, his eyes shuttering with pleasure.
The man must have been using a while for the poppy to have such an effect, for his blood to have so much poisoning. His veins were dark, though not as dark as her father’s had been at the end.
The first time someone used the Beast's Poppy, it was like any opioid, but it never fully left the body.
Every time someone got high on the poppy, all the poisoned magic in their body would wake up and the high would get stranger and more magical.
The weightlessness, the dark veins, the altered mood…
it all got worse. And as the highs got more intense, the crash grew worse as well.
Iryana felt her stomach cramp, the need to retch causing her to shudder.
She could think of nothing but the need to get away from him before he came down from his high. She knew what happened to addicts when the poppy wore off. The confusion, the pain, the anger, the violence.
The crowd was a blur of faces and laughter that now echoed ominously around her head. She could hardly breathe as she shouldered her way through the crowd. Fleeing.
Memories of her father plagued her. The flushed skin and darkened veins, the way he would prance around the room with his sword like he was still a great hero of Istri.
The magic of the drug dulled his senses and made him weightless enough to ignore his missing leg.
They should have stopped giving it to him, but he had demanded it, forcing her mother to buy it for him once the family’s supply ran out.
When the high went away…
Gods, she couldn’t breathe.
Iryana woke up on her first night as a true, belted soldier of the 18th covered in sweat, her heart pounding.
She’d dreamed of the poppy field she had stumbled across with Vaneshta during that one mission.
Of cursing, moaning soldiers crawling out of it.
Their skin laced with black, their eyes bloodshot and angry.
They grabbed her, pulling at her clothes and hair.
Taking her with them as they floated up above the trees.
And then they’d dropped her, her body plummeting toward the field of poppies.
She’d screamed as she jolted awake, but it somehow hadn’t woken her roommate.
Trying to control her breathing, Iryana stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t the first time she had dreamed about that field of poppies, but it had never made her feel so scared. So helpless.
She rolled over, curling her knees up against her chest, and waited for morning.
They walked just in front of the horse-drawn cart full of supplies and herbs.
It was early; long shadows stretching across the path before them as sunlight fought back the night.
Such a time was less dangerous than in the peak of night, but not safe enough to let down one’s guard. Dakii still hunted at dawn.
“Are you sure you want to go scouting tonight, too?” Vaneshta asked quietly as she scanned the surrounding woods, her hand ready to grasp a summoned blade.
Iryana stiffened. “Yes, Sergeant.”
It had been a long week since her ceremony, days of worrying and trying to figure out what to do.
Tonight was the moonless night, and tomorrow would begin the Harvest Moon.
Already the nights were growing chilly. At least the afternoon storms were past them, and they’d have a reprieve until the autumn rains started.
“You’re volunteering for a lot of extra shifts.” Vaneshta narrowed her eyes, flicking them over Iryana before turning back to the pines.
“Is that a problem?”
“It is if you get yourself killed. You don’t need to push so hard, and I know you’re barely sleeping.”
“I’m fine,” Iryana cut out.
She needed to be on these missions more than she needed rest. Out here, with her attention focused on the danger that could be lurking around any tree, she didn’t have to think about the Kleesolds.
They both fell quiet, the only sounds being the rustling of needles and the soft crunch of earth giving way beneath their boots. It was almost peaceful, but Iryana didn’t want peace; she wanted action. Her muscles ached for it.
Anything to keep her from thinking.
These missions were the best for that, going through dakya-frequented areas.
They were close enough to the fort that the protocol was to kill any beast they found, even if it was possible to go around them.
It kept the dakii away from the fort and led to fewer dakii going into the valley near her family’s post.
A win from both perspectives.
Iryana’s eyes flicked ahead to Pyetar, where she could see little more than his dark brown cap and the brown cape around his shoulders. Occasionally he turned to talk in a hushed voice to the soldier beside him, the strong lines of his profile catching her attention.
Pyetar had been quiet since Iryana had returned, but she felt his eyes on her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. He kept a close eye, and she hadn’t yet decided if that was a good or bad thing.
There was a rustle, and some of the other soldiers at the front of the group took off into the trees, Pyetar leading their silent charge.
Iryana tensed, summoning her bow to join them, when Vaneshta grabbed her shoulder, holding her still.
“Guard the supplies,” Vaneshta ordered Iryana and the soldier leading the horse.
Then Iryana was left beside the cart with a few other soldiers, watching Vaneshta’s braid whipping behind her as they disappeared into the trees.
With a frustrated huff, Iryana half-drew her bow, turning in a circle. Each shadow held the promise of monsters, but they all turned out to be nothing. Until Iryana saw a flicker of silver-blue fur out of the corner of her eye.
Her heart raced, and adrenaline flooded her veins.
The dakya had slipped past them, running toward the fort.
She was supposed to stay and guard the supplies, not go off on her own, but it was only one and the dakya could be a danger to the 18th, she assured herself.
And it was her duty to protect the fort.
“I’ll go check it out.” She didn’t even spare a glance at the other soldiers before running into the trees.
That part of the forest was dense with spindly pines and bright white-spotted birches. It took only a moment to pick up the trail of the dakya. She rushed to catch up, weaving through the trees, until she could hear it running ahead of her. She smiled in triumph until she heard the others.
Iryana almost faltered. She could take out a lone dakya, but could she take down multiple? Even with her metal-forgings she wasn’t sure. Still, she chased them.
It wasn’t hard to follow the sounds of the dakii at first; she could hear the soft pounding of their paws and the occasional snap of things broken beneath their weight. Iryana had to push herself faster, realizing they weren’t trying to be stealthy; they were charging on the fortress.
Heart pounding, braids flying behind her, Iryana stepped sideways down a steep hill.
A wide path carpeted in low-growing cypress opened before her, and she took it.
Iryana had to be getting closer to them; they couldn’t squeeze through the trees in as direct a path as she.
But she couldn’t hear them over the crunching and rustling from her own running.
She slowed to a near-stop, head tilted as she strained to pick up the dakii. She couldn’t have lost them.
A soft crack came from up ahead, and Iryana crouched, finally making out their shadows through the trees ahead. They had stopped. Why? Iryana formed and half-drew an arrow and snuck closer.