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Every muscle in my body trembles as I hike through Hangman’s Valley.
I wear the satchel of urine that repels the beasts of this forest. Sure, that would put me in pretty severe danger, which is the goal, but I don’t want to be torn to shreds before he can find me.
The fall air flutters through the tall collection of rubber and cannonball trees. Birds squawk from the safety of their nests, the afternoon sun pours over the red-and-yellow fruits dangling from the trees.
After we bathed in the creek, Ruth helped me in my leather archer’s dress and pants that I saved from the asylum and hooked the strap of blades around my waist. I leave my hood up, pointing out each trap waiting for me. The puddles of acid. The trench pit disguised with vines, branches, and moss. I remember each step we took in the single-file line behind Dessin and Aurick.
Where are you, Dessin?
I, of course, have doubts that puncture my chest as I trek on. What if Vexamen dug up his body? What if Demechnef did to study his anatomy? His brain? What if that vial from the Emerald Lake Spring failed? I don’t think I could go on if—
Something makes a soft cracking sound behind me. Not a branch—smaller, like a twig or even a crunchy leaf. So light and quiet, I’m not sure I heard it. But that’s how I know I’m being followed. Someone orsomeonesis trying to move undetected.
I continue walking, not giving away that I know they’re there. There are probably, if I had to guess, ten crossbows pointed at me. I can smell their sweat and adrenaline thick in the wind.
There’s a snapping sound, like a rubber band smacking against skin, and an arrow whizzes past my face, a hair away from grazing the tip of my nose.
I break out into a run.
My thick, wavy hair flies off my shoulders, flapping in the jungle wind as I sprint, leaping over fallen trees, zigzagging to avoid the plethora of arrows shooting across my vision.
Find me, Dessin.
My stomach jumps in rhythm with my frantic heart, triggering my small breakfast to jostle and slosh in my gut. Panic tingles my sweat-slicked skin, and I have to remind myself that I, too, am dangerous. If they get close enough, I can take down at least seven. But who knows how many are around?
“You can fake your death.”
Hope urges my muscles to run faster, fight harder, push my body to the brink of what I am capable of. Even though I can defend myself, I miss the way he would protect me. At all costs. Nothing could get through him to me.
My mind floats to that waterfall. The day Kane kissed me.
“As hard as this might be for you, to be left in the dark, to have an endless stream of questions. I promise it’s harder for me. It’s ripping my heart out. It’s”—he took a steadying breath—“burning me alive, honey. I want to tell you everything. But I can’t. Not until this is all over.”
My heart burns for him. I need him more than food and water. I need to tell him I remember. I understand why he did it.
I twist my head and notice that the Vexamen Breed is catching up. They’re faster than I am. Longer legs and wider strides. Not to mention, my body has been put through the wringer recently. I’m sore from head to toe.
I’ll have to stop and fight. My eyes search for a spot that I can use to my advantage. Trees, logs, clusters of vines. And a small cliff. A hill that cuts off from erosion. I force my tired legs to move in that direction. Only a little farther. I can wait for them behind the cliff, wait for them to jump down so I can attack them one by one.
It’s not much of an advantage, but it’s something.
Racing up the hill, I’m only a good twenty yards ahead. I get to the edge and drop ten feet, my backside scraping against giant curly roots and gravel. With a thump into a bed of moss and ivy, I reach for my knives. They stopped shooting the crossbows; there’s a chance I can catch them off guard and fight hand to hand.
I’m here, Dessin.
Men in raven armor, like the black scales of a viper, leap from the small cliff, rolling through the dirt as they make contact with the ground. I pounce on the first one, jumping on his back before he can see me, and slicing my blade across his exposed neck. Hot blood sprays across my hand. The second one jumps from the cliff and lands behind me; I pretend not to hear him sneak up, ducking as his sword swings over my head, whirling on one foot to kick my leg out under his feet. He flips backward, falling hard on his upper back. I quickly spear him with his own sword.
But the rest fall too quickly. I was hoping to get them one at a time. They trickle over the hill like a colony of ants, tumbling toward me. I only have time to scream and swing my daggers in desperation to slow them down. But there are too many, and I’m tackled to the ground, thrusting my dagger into impenetrable armor.
If I can’t live with you, I’ll die with you.
My scream travels the length of the forest as I fight with everything I have left. Every lesson Kane taught me. Every moment he trained me to wield a weapon, swing my fists, defend myself against the greatest warrior there is.Him.
But it isn’t enough. There are too many. All at once.
I love you, Dessin.
The sound of a motor grumbles through the trees, loud enough to get the soldiers on top of me to look up, moving out of my view of the cliff. But then—all movements stop at the sound of a dragon’s roar piercing the jungle with the heat and explosiveness of a thousand burning suns.
