Chapter 10
Reid
Clever, brave, beautiful girl. She’d done it.
She’d gotten the food from Aser and somehow managed to feed all of it to me.
I had not missed how she had not taken a single bite for herself and had heard the discontented rumble of her belly as she lay down to sleep.
I hated that I had taken the food out of her mouth, and I vowed I would make it up to her.
Already, I could feel strength return to my limbs, my vision and hearing improving.
There were too many Bitter Storm warriors to risk an escape; at least half a dozen stayed awake to guard the camp.
Of the twenty or so warriors that were sleeping, the majority had grouped themselves around us, meaning that we would have to climb over their long, sprawled-out bodies if we wanted to leave.
I had a lot of faith in my skills, but I did not think I could manage that without waking at least one or alerting a guard.
There were at least three pairs of eyes on me at all times.
The Bitter Storm King might not have looked at me as if he saw a threat, but some of those warriors I’d bested in our skirmish that afternoon.
They remembered. So, although I hated waiting and was terrible at it, I settled in to do exactly that.
With my strength still not at full power, I forced myself to get as comfortable as I could and wait till morning.
Slumping in my bonds, I made sure to make myself look as pathetic as I could; I wanted them to continue underestimating me.
So far, they did not realize that I could understand them, and I hoped that meant they’d reveal their plans for Sazzie—for us.
By morning, I had not seen a chance to take my angel and slip away, but I did feel almost fully recovered.
On top of that, I had noticed that the bag of supplies, which held the pouch with capsules from Erish, was in the possession of a male not far away.
He was soundly asleep, using the bag as his pillow, long auburn strands fanned out across the leather satchel.
The guards were murmuring together on the other side of this male, and, by a stroke of luck, the flap that opened the bag was aimed my way.
If I could just wriggle the nose of my shoe beneath it, I could dislodge that pouch.
It fell with a whisper onto the slightly soggy, cold ground beside the male, but it had rolled out of reach of my stretched-out leg.
I winced, my mind spinning as I contemplated how to get to the pouch without anyone noticing.
There was no way I could reach it without breaking my ropes and giving away that I was feeling much better.
Could I risk leaving it until they untied me for travel?
Hope that I could snatch it up without anyone noticing then? I doubted it.
Turning to look at my angel, I saw that she was still sleeping where she’d curled up on the cool ground last night.
A spot somewhere between Khawla and me, neutral ground.
Her chest rose and fell, barely covered by the dark purple band she wore.
She had slept fitfully, and I did not want to disturb her unless I absolutely had to.
That left only one other possible option.
Khawla was awake, just like I was, and when I locked eyes with him, I knew instantly that he’d seen what I’d done.
The male had lost his mate yesterday; I did not expect him to look in any kind of fighting shape.
But there was a fire in his eyes, a glow that hadn’t been there last night.
The question remained: Would he align himself with Sazzie and me? Or would he prefer Astrexa?
When he slipped the tip of his tail through a maze in the net, I had my answer.
He was closer to the pouch, dangling almost directly over the spot.
In seconds, he’d curled his tail around the pouch and pulled it out of sight into the net that trapped him.
Nobody was the wiser when, a minute later, everyone started to rouse and the camp burst into action.
I hated that I was not in possession of the capsules myself, but at least now I knew Bitter Storm didn’t have them.
Sazzie woke from the commotion, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, our eyes met.
I hoped she could see the promise I wanted to make to her in my eyes: I would get us out of this.
I would keep her safe, at any cost. She was not offered any food, and I overheard remarks that they were withholding it because she would just give it away.
Aser also ignored her, and to my worry, he was accompanied by an unbound Astrexa that morning when we set off toward the mountain once again.
My female was made to travel under her own steam, but they kept her separate from Khawla and me.
It went like that all day, the women at the head of the group, with Aser and Astrexa talking in whispers.
The orange-freckled guard kept my angel under close watch, and at all times, I was surrounded myself by the sharp ends of spears.
I did not fancy another spear to my belly, even if it had healed at an astonishing rate. That fucking hurt.
Late that afternoon, the mountain began to loom overhead.
We’d moved fast, and I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before we were in Bitter Storm territory.
It was now or never if we wanted to escape.
I took a big risk by increasing my pace so I could come abreast with Khawla, trapped in the swaying net.
Bitter Storm warriors had taken turns carrying the net dangling from poles, and I had the impression the rear male was younger.
I hoped that meant he wasn’t as watchful.
They were muttering about my pace. One older male was definitely suspicious and warning the others to watch me.
They didn’t think I could understand any of what they said, and one of them jabbed my shoulder with the side of his spear shaft to get me to back up.
Khawla was on the ball, though, proving he preferred to be my ally right now rather than my enemy.
His tail slipped out as I pretended to stumble from that spear jab, and there the pouch was—casually slipped into my hand without anyone the wiser.
The Thunder Rock Master Scout did not know the significance of that pouch; he just knew I wanted it, and he’d helped me get it.
With the leather warming against my palm, I felt better.
I could feel the little bumps of the capsules inside it, hard like beads.
They were going to be unpleasant to swallow, but that didn’t matter.
With these in hand, I could recover the nutrients my nanobots burned mid-fight. It would turn the tables.
Allowing the Naga warriors to urge me back in line, away from Khawla, I briefly let them think they were in control.
Then, I started counting. If I popped a few of those capsules now, would that be enough to take them all out?
Four males surrounded me, Khawla would help if I broke him out of that net, and two dozen were up ahead, with Aser and my angel.
I was assessing the risk that they would try to harm Sazzie to get me back under their control, rapidly calculating those odds in my head.
Did they think she meant anything to me?
They could, because in our last skirmish, I had surrendered as soon as they captured her.
But they might not make that connection, because they clearly thought very little of me.
I was the human abomination; I heard them discuss me, ridicule my legs and lack of tail.
Even if I’d kicked their fucking asses yesterday, they wanted to believe I was inferior to them. Fine with me—I’d prove them wrong.
There, a rock outcropping meant our party had to go around it, briefly causing half of the warriors to be out of sight.
It was the perfect opportunity. Unobtrusively, I loosened the opening of the pouch and prepared to pull free some of the capsules.
At the last moment, I hesitated, sensing something was off without knowing what.
Pushing the bots to enhance all my senses, I caught what I had already noticed subconsciously: the lack of birds in the trees ahead, the low sound of more voices in the distance.
I even caught the scents of more Naga—the leather of their armor, and the muskiness of a damp cave.
Two dozen males I would have risked with extra fuel and an ally, but this sounded like at least that number yet again.
I couldn’t do that. Those were overwhelming forces.
I would not be able to free Sazzie before they got to her, and I did not fool myself into thinking that Aser wouldn’t sacrifice her if it meant saving his own skin.
Frustrated that this chance had slipped through my grasp, I made myself tuck the pouch away into a pants pocket, out of sight.
Battle readiness surged through my body like ants crawling beneath my skin, but I forced myself to wait.
I had to have faith that there would be other opportunities.
As we rounded the rock outcropping, I saw what I had already smelled: the opening of a cave leading into the ground and, no doubt, into the mountain—Bitter Storm’s stomping grounds.
Once in there, it would become so much harder to escape.
But Sazzie was already at the opening, surrounded by so many red-scaled bodies…
I did not like those odds. I did not like them at all.
***
Sazzie