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We ducked under a low hanging limb, listening to the sound of a struggle growing closer. Breathing gasps and deep grunts of effort. Bodies shuffling and objects being thrown. The trail was closer to the village than I had anticipated.
“It’s likely just a thief,” Graceson whispered to me.
“Then we should stop him. Help whomever it is that is being robbed.” My shoulder brushed against his as he paused and I tried to push past him. One muscular arm shot out in front of me.
“No, Ryker. The gods will deal with the wrongdoing. We can't give up our location to help some random Fae on the outskirts of the town.”
I stared at him, wondering when he would tell me the punch line to the joke, but it never came. Seriousness shone out of the well of his vibrant green eyes, and no smile lifted his normally carefree lips. My teeth ground together in response to the dread in my stomach. I was sick of watching the innocent be hurt, even if it was for the good of many.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“No, look at me.” He grabbed my arm, forcing my eyes back up to his. “Do not draw attention. This is just a small scouting mission to make sure it’s not a threat to us. Nothing more. Nothing more.”
Did he think me a fool? A woman so overcome with senseless emotion that I couldn’t contain myself?Your emotion is half the reason you’re in this position, my gut reminded me.Emotions aren’t bad. It’s your body's natural reaction to good and bad. It’s what teaches you, leads you. Where would you be if you didn’t feel so deeply for the persecution of your people? Where would you be if you didn’t step out of the crowd and cry out at the injustice?
“Nothing more,” I hissed, yanking my arm away from him. We followed the sound of the struggle. The noise lessened as we approached. Through limbs and leaves, cobbled siding with crooked white shutters and the patchy roof of a small cottage came into view.
I slowed my magic, leaving the brush and trees before us as they were, to keep us hidden. My knees ached as I crouched in a bush, pushing a small branch out of my view. Graceson followed suit, eyes narrowed to discern what was happening out of our view.
“Not much farther it seems, bunny,” a gravelly voice said. My eyes searched for the owner, landing on a tall man who was made up of more scars than anything else. The sun was shining off his bald head and the long dagger hanging on his belt. It reminded me of the short sword I loved so much. I reached behind me to where my weapon was secured, touching it softly to make sure it was still there. Warm metal greeted me in reassurance.
The man bent down over the body of a Fae that lay lifeless at his feet. Blood stained the woman’s shirt as he wiped his hands. He sniffled and glanced up at the sky, counting the hours left in the day. Long scars cut across his face, their presence leaving one eyelid split in an odd V shape and half his smile unable to turn up.
I scanned the area to find the person he spoke to, only to find another body. A Nymph male still bound in chains. His face was red and swollen, his knuckles bloody, as if he had fought with all his might before his neck was clearly broken. Beyond the slave was a woman. Also Fae, I presumed. Her face was turned away from the bodies, her mouth covered with a gag. Ashy brown hair had messily fallen out of what may have once been a very proper hairstyle. Curls that had been carefully created with an iron were falling limp and stringy, damp with sweat. Her dress, a gentle shade of peach, was tattered at the edges and covered with dirt. Both her hands were bound behind her back. The point of her nose turned up in an aristocratic way as she avoided responding to her captor.
Why would he keep her? What does he want with her?Revulsion boiled inside of me.
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” the gangly man rasped, kicking the body of the woman over with the toe of his boot. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d love to scavenge your house for a little snack.” He turned back toward the hostage. “Would you like something to eat, bunny?”
Bunny. Oh, the way he called her that made my stomach turn.
“I told you, Ryker. Just a thief,” Graceson sighed.
“And we are really just going to let him get away with this? Let him walk off with that poor girl in ropes?”
“Yes.”
I pressed my eyes closed tightly, wishing I could forget this image. Forget the dead bodies that lay before us. Forget about the bound girl. The feeling was daunting, the idea that I was leaving her to whatever fate this man wished for her. Death. I was leaving her to die.
Being a leader was understanding the greater good. The sacrifice of the few to save the many. Sacrifice wasn’t without pain, and happiness couldn’t exist without it, I tried to reason.
It still felt wrong.
“Let’s go.” Graceson motioned.
My body didn’t move though. I watched the man walk into the house, the woman waiting in the sun. She winced as she tried to move her raw wrists, working her bindings against the rock she sat against. Maybe she would find a way to free herself. Maybe there was hope for her after all.
Or maybe, I could help her. The man was in the house and she was alone. My presence didn’t necessarily mean there was an army passing on the other side of these woods. To her, I was just a good Samaritan passing by.
“No,” Graceson barked as I eased out of my crouch. He slipped his hand over my wrist firmly. “We have to go. The plan remains the same. Let the gods deal with him and we will get these people safely to the castle.”
I gave one last tug, and his fingers tightened.
“Fine,” I growled turning back toward the old trade route. It took all I had not to turn back. Not to allow even a single glance to see if the girl was having any luck freeing herself. My conscience begged me, but logic said otherwise. Maybe I was not a very logical being, because every step was harder than the last.
Graceson’s hand pressed gently between my shoulders, guiding me forward. It felt more like an assurance, like he was afraid if he let go I’d sprint for the girl and the thief. Maybe I would. Even I didn’t trust myself.
Stepping back onto the worn dirt path, I kicked at the weeds that had begun to overtake the trail and huffed a long, dramatic breath. A few Nymphs twisted quickly, aiming their weapons toward us until they recognized who they were pointing the fine tips of their blades at.
