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I jerk my head to the side, searching for Dessin and DaiSzek. There. Safe. They both are unharmed, staring not at me, but at someone next to me. Dessin has an actual heart in his right hand, thick, gooey strings of blood hanging from it.
Gurgling sounds come from the soldier, flinching with his last moments of breath. But I didn’t kill him. I froze. I stopped before my knife could save Dessin and DaiSzek.
Someone beat me to it.
13. The Stormsages
A man built like a bear with a long copper ponytail and giant hazel eyes stands behind us. He’s dressed in layers upon layers of animal skins, straps of weapons, and thick pelts of dark fur.
Walking up around him is a pack of white wolves. Their feet crunch through the snow quietly, carefully, as if one wrong step could start a war.
Dessin races to my side, a strong, bloody hand gripping my shoulder to let me know he’s here. I’m safe from this stranger. But the wolves have us surrounded, and I can’t tell whether or not they’ll attack.
But something sits beside us, tall and stoic, black fur sprinkled with flakes of snow and blood.
DaiSzek.
He’s not attacking. He’s calm. Unthreatened.
“Wait,” I urge Dessin. “Look!” I nudge him to where DaiSzek sits, gazing at the beastly man without any aggressive intent.
It’s the same reaction he had to Runa. He didn’t harm her.
“He’s not attacking…” I mutter. “Does that mean—”
“It means he knows we’re the Stormsages,” the bear man answers. A husky, masculine voice. A foreign accent that is rugged and northern.
“The colony from the North Saphrine Forest.” Dessin takes a breath. “Are the wolves with you?”
Like moths to a flame, the wolves gather around DaiSzek, a safe distance, yet close enough to show him they will not harm us.
“They are a part of our colony, yes.”
Dessin helps me stand, but as we get to our feet, I remember he’s still covered in blood. Will they think we killed these people? That we slaughtered this village?
“We wish we could have fought alongside the three of you. It would have been a great honor for my people.”
I cough out a laugh. “I did not fight. But I’m sure these two would have enjoyed your company.” I jerk my head in emphasis to Dessin and DaiSzek.
The bear man lifts his chin as if he does not understand. Those giant hazel eyes trail down my body and back up to my face. “You do not fight yet,” he states, working something out in his own thoughts.
That’s what I said.
Bear Man nods once, looking around at the dead scattered throughout the village. Corpses hanging from trees like ornaments. “We will bury the victims and burn the demons. Will you be our guest in the Stormsages Keep this night?”
Dessin’s chocolate eyes flicker to the men and women dressed in animal furs and skins, trudging through the snow and dismounting the bodies.
“My name is Garanthian. You can trust us.”
Dessin considers this. “I trust no one,” he says, attention still pulled between the wolves, the colony members surrounding us, and Garanthian. “But we’ll accept safe harbor from you tonight.”
~
Garanthian and his pack of wolves lead us through thick snow and plump pine trees.
DaiSzek doesn’t leave my side, clearly choosing to protect the weaker link. Occasionally leaning down to my ankle to lick the bandaged wound.
“He’s bigger than the legends described,” Garanthian says, his voice like a shovel scraping over a sidewalk or the tire of a buggy rolling across a graveled driveway.
