Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
Kallias
The Velli stood in the clearing ten paces ahead of us, his back half-turned, rabbit dangling from his fist. He gripped it by the hind legs and slammed it against the packed earth at his boots.
After adjusting his hold, he braced one knee beside its body, stretched its neck between both hands, and bit down.
The rabbit shrieked. Its hind feet kicked against his thighs, claws scraping leather, thin torso writhing as he fed.
From behind the wide trunk at the clearing’s edge, I broke cover. Revulsion clawed up my throat, yet I forced it down and sprinted straight at him. I didn’t know how much power he could siphon from such a small creature, and I refused to wait and measure it.
I hit him from the side, shoulder driving into his ribs.
The impact knocked him off balance and sent us crashing into the dirt beside the carcass.
My arms locked around his from behind as we rolled, my chest to his back.
He snarled and bucked beneath me, trying to twist free.
We overturned once more, and I landed flat on my back with him half across my torso, his weight pressing the air from my lungs.
“Silence!” Sean, a rider, cut in from my left.
He emerged from the trees at the opposite side of the clearing, boots pounding over dry leaves. He crouched beside us, blade held to the Velli’s throat.
The Velli froze, and I shoved him off. Tension coiled through his limbs as he knelt, breath sawing in startled gasps as I pinned his chest to the ground with my knee and gathered his arms behind him.
“Who are you?” he spat, craning his head toward the rider while straining against my grip. His muscles flexed as he tested my strength, searching for weakness.
I tightened my hold, dragging his arms back until his shoulders strained.
“They never listen,” Sean muttered.
He shifted closer to the Velli’s head, sheathed his knife, and hauled a strip of cloth from his belt. While I kept the man pinned, he forced the gag between his teeth and tied it tight behind his skull.
This made the second Velli we had taken that day.
High above the forest, our dragons circled.
Their ears and sharp eyes compensated for their size.
From the sky they could spot solitary hunters moving through the trees long before those men noticed us waiting below, which allowed Sean and me to intercept them on foot.
Once the gag held, the rider took my place to bind his wrists behind his back. I released my grip only when the knots were secure.
While he worked the rope, I crouched beside the discarded gear near the edge of the clearing.
I searched through the man’s belongings: no rations, no spare clothing, only a handful of worn blades and simple traps meant for ground prey.
The first hunter we captured carried snares for birds.
Nothing in his pack hinted at a family. No tokens or keepsakes.
No mark of a village. Only tools for killing.
It seemed all they were concerned about was their next victim.
We hauled him back to our sad excuse for camp. No fire smoke. No food scent. Only massive dragons hunched in the shadows, and Ronan perched on a fallen log beside Nakos. Erwin and Orren were still scouting and hadn’t returned.
“Ah, another!” Ronan’s tone was positively gleeful as he sprang up and jogged toward us.
Nakos studied the Velli at his boots, flipping a dagger into the air with idle precision. Steel flashed, caught, flashed again.
“Now we go?” Ronan slid his blade home, gaze searching mine for confirmation.
“Under cover of darkness,” I said with a weary breath.
He was the only one I trusted with this. We had survived a similar mission in Mon, and he understood the cost of failure.
This time my life was not the only stake.
His sister’s rested beside it.
We stripped the Velli and pulled on their ragged brown clothes.
The fabric stank of filth and sweat gone sour.
Grit scraped my skin as if the earth itself had crept into the seams. I smeared mud along Ronan’s neck, cold and slick beneath my fingers, then used the tip of his knife to press careful pricks into his skin.
The hunters’ high collars would hide most of it, but we had to prepare for possible inspections. We had no way to perfectly mimic their mangled scars, but these shallow cuts and added grime would lend validity to the disguise.
Our two captives lacked the sharpened teeth I associated with the Velli army. But the absence did not surprise me. Reports from our battles spoke of flat-toothed Velli who usually accompanied a Cruor, more of a fuel source than warriors.
Ronan pushed my head aside, settling closer to replicate the mess on my neck.
I angled my chin to give him room. He leaned in and used the tip of his knife to score shallow pricks beneath my jaw.
Each careful press burned, then warmed as blood welled and slid toward the fabric.
Mud streaked both our throats. He smeared more into the fresh cuts, dulling the shine of red.
It grieved me, knowing we were wearing blood-saturated clothing in addition to grinding dirt into open wounds. It was a breeding ground for infection and disease.
But I would risk everything for Nienna.
When he finished, Ronan stepped back to inspect his work. I adjusted his collar in turn, tugging it higher to shadow the worst of the marks. In the fading light, we looked less like ourselves and more like the hunters we had taken.
We prepared ourselves as best we could. A short distance from the dragons and the bound Velli, I explained the plan once more to the Draconis prince and his riders.
Nakos stood to my right, dagger idle in his hand.
Sean watched the treeline, watching for Orren and Erwin’s return.
I outlined our entry point, the signals, the fallback if anything went wrong.
Ronan and I had to trust that they could manage on their own, guard the prisoners, and keep the dragons calm without drawing attention.
Then I approached Tsunami.
She lay half in the water at the edge of camp, vast body submerged to her flanks.
At the sound of my steps over damp earth, she lifted her head from the shallows.
Water streamed from blue-green scales as the last light thinned across the surface.
Her golden eyes flashed with defiance the moment they found me.
Stretching her horns toward the darkening sky, she arched her long neck and peered down at me like the insect I was. I stood near her foreleg, boots sinking into mud, small beneath the curve of her shadow.
Her lips quivered with a silent snarl, breath stirring the air between us, as if she anticipated what I would ask. No. What I would demand.
And I wouldn’t take no for an answer.