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I glance down a little used pathway and something catches my eye. That’s an odd thing to be left discarded on the ground. It’s a satchel, just lying on the floor. I pick it up and turn it over. It looks like it could have belonged to a man.
Opening it up, I am horrified to see a bunch of flyers with the familiar logo of the Kiphian Purists. Fury and fear rise like bile in my throat.
If she has been taken by the purists, I have to act fast. They believe humans are animals and have been known to maim, disfigure, or even kill them, just to make examples of them to any other human who gets ideas above their station.
Desperation fills my heart as my pace picks up. I swear I’m going to kill them all.
Pacing up and down the street, I discover the tracks of a cart. Its wheels have made deep indents in the fresh mud from the recent rain. I don’t know if that’s how they’ve taken her, but it’s the only clue I have right now.
Breaking into a run, I follow the trail out into the countryside. The tracking becomes more difficult here, as the roads are muddier than the ones in town and it makes it harder to see clearly which way they could have gone.
Slowing down so I can study the trail is frustrating, but I don’t want to miss a clue. I worry constantly that I’m simply following some carter delivering his goods. However, some deep instinct is telling me I am heading in the right direction.
I realize that I have come out here without backup, or even a knife. No one knows where I am. I could be walking into a trap if I’m not careful.
I consider returning to the town and getting a mob together. But the thought of leaving Mira alone with those scum a moment longer than I have to drives me wild.
Finally, they turn off the main road and my progress becomes a little faster. Where the hell could they be taking her? Again, I fret that I’m just following a simple trader. I pray she is not being hauled off in completely the opposite direction.
The track ends at a barn. I dive into the cover of some nearby bushes in case I’m seen. Every sense is alert and listening.
I can see the chordata that must have pulled the cart still tied up outside. The animal looks utterly miserable, with its head down and ears back. Its long shaggy coat is still wet from therain, and it looks malnourished. The fact that they don’t even look after their animal speaks volumes for the type of people they are.
Carefully, I make my way closer. I need to see inside the barn. I have to know what I’m up against.
Skirting around the outside, I discover a tree growing close to a window. I may be able to get through the window and into the hay loft if I can climb it.
The first branch is higher than I can reach so I have to scan around for something to climb on. Cursing every wasted second, I maneuver an old piece of farm machinery under the limb. I’m lucky as it’s just the right height.
The branches of the tree pose no problem for me, and I ascend swiftly to the exposed window. The window is thick with grime and the dust of ages. There is no way I can see through it.
I give it an experimental push, but the thing is stuck fast. If I’m to stand any chance at all against these thugs, then I have to have the element of surprise. If I have to break the window, I have lost that.
Maybe there is another entrance. I’m about to climb back down when I hear raised voices.
“You’re an idiot, Brantham. If you slit her throat then not only can we not make an example of her, but she becomes a martyr, too. You’re going to get everyone sympathizing with the humans instead.”
“What do you think we should do with her then?” another voice demands. “You’re acting like you want to feed her cotton candy and start exchanging gifts. I swear, you’ve gone soft.”
“This one interests me, that’s all,” says the first voice. “She shows no fear and even answers back. That kind of spirit is unusual in a human.”
“Even more reason to slit her throat and be done with it.”
I’m pretty sure that’s another voice altogether. So, there are at least three of them. And I’m certain now that this is where they’re holding her.
Carefully, I climb back down the tree. The encroaching night is stalking in. I debate whether it is better to wait until full dark. I could probably sneak in through the main doors without being seen if I time it right once night falls.
As I’m making my way further around the building searching for an entrance, I nearly stumble into a fourth guy. He is outside, relieving himself against a tree.
I act without thought, grabbing him from behind and cracking his head against the trunk. The guy goes down like a brick, which gives me immense satisfaction.
Ripping his jacket from his back, I tie him to the tree. Then I stuff some of the cloth into his mouth by way of a gag. I have the urge to kill him, but the more rational part of me realizes I could be wasting precious time on him if I do that. I’ve dealt with him well enough, but I need to focus on the other three and Mira now.
If he is out here, then there must be another door on this side of the barn. My heart skips a beat when I discover it, left propped open by the luckless man I have just defeated.
I calm my breathing and enter the building, carefully sliding through the shadows until the main area comes into view.
There is a roaring fire in the center of the room. The idiots. Don’t they know how dangerous that is with all this hay around? Barns are notorious for going up in flames because of a careless spark.
