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He shifts so we’re face-to-face as his hand cups my cheek. “I won’t let them take you.”
My dress is soaking wet from falling into the river, the bandage and salve long washed away from my tattoo. It burns like hell, and a band of mutant creatures want to kidnap me. But standing this close to Bastian, I feel emboldened, like I can take on the world. Power emanates from his every pore.
“I’m ready.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him like we’ll never see each other again. “Let’s kick some Miscrete butt.”
His lips pull back into a smile of approval. “Join the group of women helping each other out over there, then follow me. The second you exit the water, they’ll catch your scent.”
“But how…?”
“Arazian is crafty. He was a member of the Council of Avren for a reason. Don’t underestimate what he will do if he wants something.” Bastian kisses my forehead. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
I mingle among a group of women using a thick vine to climb out of the river. It’s funny to watch them try to climb up the slick bank in long dresses. Most have ditched their heels, using their bare feet to climb. I wade through the water to the woman who seems to be overseeing the operation.
“Where are your dates?” I can’t imagine them taking off and leaving the women behind to fend for themselves.
She rakes her eyes over my dress now that the water is only thigh high. It is almost completely see-through.
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I don’t have time to discuss the ethics of my attire.
“Swept away, dragged out by the Miscretes, or ran away like babies.” She sneers at me as if I’m one of them. “And where’s yours?”
“He’s going to meet me on the bank.” I count the women left. Five.
Rather than continue my riveting discourse, I crouch below the current lady trying to climb the vine and use my shoulder to push her ass up the slope. This proves difficult, not only because she’s sobbing but because she weighs a ton.
“Help me!” I growl at the other women, losing patience with waiting my turn to climb out.
Two other women join me, and we get the first woman out and safely on the shore. She wrings the folds of her dress, tears still streaming down her face.
“It’s going to be alright,” I say. Hysterics will get us nowhere. “What’s your name?”
“Megan,” she sobs.
“Ok, Megan. You’re going to stay there and help from above by gripping hands and helping pull.” I point to another woman. “You’ll go next. The rest of us will push from below.”
Using this method, we get all the women to the bank safely, leaving me alone in the river. I dig my fingernails into the vine and climb, making it to the top without help. My training with Bastian and the shorter dress have served me well.
A deafening howl resounds from the other bank, and all Miscrete eyes fix on me. In a massive swarm of hunched bodies, they move as one toward the bridge, seeming determined to overtake me.
Bastian holds a torch, motioning for me to hurry to him. In my boots, I race over the cobblestones with surprising ease. Evie knew the footwear was versatile. We run along the river away from the bridge. I ignore my lungs desperately trying to catch their next breath as we round the corner of a darkened building.
He tries the door, but it’s locked. “Hold this,” he demands, shoving the torch into my hands. Without hesitation, he punches his fist through the glass on the door and reaches through to unlock it. Blood smears his hand. I swallow back bile.
“Grab what you need to defend yourself.” He fills his pockets with daggers before lifting a sword from the wall. “With your scent, they won’t stop until they have you.”
A bow rests against the wall with a quiver of arrows beside it. I rush over and lift the quiver to my back, crisscrossing the straps over the front of my dress. Now I look like a true elven princess, but will my aim be as true?
Growls and grunts come from outside the armory, so I snatch two daggers and stuff them into my boots.
Bastian holds the torch in front of him as we creep toward the open door. The light flickers on the silent threshold, playing tricks with shadows. I lick my lips, trying to visualize my first battle as my heart pounds against my chest.
A deafening screech fills the room, and the doorway is suddenly full of monsters—crooked arms, sharp claws, and rotting flesh. Bastian takes the torch in both hands and jabs it in their direction. Their scary human eyes grow wide. The beasts are clearly afraid of the flame.
Arazian plays mind games with his creations. The humans are no longer alive. These are unnatural beings fueled by magic. If I don’t do something, they’ll drag me away from my family.
I nock an arrow on my bow and draw back, taking aim. It whizzes through the small space and hits a creature in the head. It falls to the ground. I swallow back more bile. My second kill is just as difficult as my first one in the woods with the werewolf. But I don’t have time to think.
A daring Miscrete skirts along the wall, taking advantage of Bastian’s entanglement with the main swarm. I nock a second arrow and aim it at the monster.
