“I’m going to guess that that isn’t some foreign ambassador coming out here to welcome us?” She says between clenched teeth.
“In the middle of the desert? I’m guessing not.” Will answers.
The blob quickly picks up speed, inching closer to our now stationary group. Instinctively, our hands – save for Mil’s – all drop to the pommel of our swords.
Impatient, I draw mine and nudge my mount forward, “it’s probably just fucking bandits.”
“Ror– what are you doing?” Will hisses as I pull up next to his horse. The riders are more visible now, and I spin the hilt in my hand, the sword moving in a wide arc.
“Taking care of a problem.” I snap, spurring my horse on and leaving behind the collection of sighs from behind me.
The first cut is always the hardest. It’s unsure, nerve-wracking even. It isn’t until you free the blade and see them fall to the ground that the pressure lifts off your chest.
You’ve succeeded. You're alive – at least for the next fifteen seconds – but the cuts that follow are always easier. The hard part is shifting tokeepingyourself alive now.
Of course, if you have magic on your side, that’s always a welcome perk.
I can feel my Wield creep to the surface as my fingers flex around the cool metal, adjusting my hold as I block an incoming blow.
SCRAAPPPEEE!
Sparks fly off the edges of our blades as they drag against each other. The bandit glares up at me, and I can’t help the laugh that comes out of me as I pull my sword back, plunging it into his side.
There is a cacophony of metal meeting metal around us, and I give the fight a cursory glance – checking on everyone. On my right, Millicent and Max are fighting back-to-back, and I tense while watching them move against their assailants, right as the man Millie fights gets a little too close to landing his mark and sending my stomach into my throat.
She leaps back into Max, and he uses that push to slice across the abdomen of his opponent. With one down, he continues the arc up and over Millie’s head until the tip of his blade is set nicely in the eye socket of their secondary opponent, the metal of the weapon flickering from the electricity of his Wield.
The result leaves two crumpled and charred men at their feet. Briefly, Max cups her cheek, their chests rising and falling rapidly as their foreheads fall together.
I flick my eyes away, allowing them their private moment, when to my left, in my peripheral vision, I see Bennett hunched over with a fist pressed to his chest. Strewn around us are the remains of our opponents, the spilled blood sizzling from the heat. I do another headcount and notice that while the number of bodies is correct, the number of bodies still with breath in them is not.
“Where’s Will?” I ask, and Bennett turns his head side to side, Max and Millicent doing the same.
When all three of them shrug, panic claws its way into my chest. Frantically, I turn and spin around, recounting the felledmen and women to make sure that I didn’t callously miss his body in the wreckage.
“HEY!” A voice echoes, and we all look up at the same time.
“Uh–” Millie stutters, and I raise my hand over my eyes, squinting to see who the voice belongs to. Relief floods me when I see Will crest over the dune, hurriedly waving us over to him.
The four of us break off into a sprint, stopping only when we reach the top, Will’s arm outstretched and pointing to an abandoned carriage.
“It’s a carriage.” Bennett says matter-of-factly.
Will nods, rushing over to it. “Just wait.”
We all form a crescent moon shape around it, watching tensely as Will wraps his hand around the door handle and pulls.
Momentarily, I’m stunned until the anger pushes my shock out of the way. “You’re certainly not what I was expecting.” I growl, sizing the girl up and down. “Little far from home… aren’t we,Pruella?”
Eveera
“Eventually, you’re going to tell me what the hell the purpose of all ofthiswas, right?” I shake my wrists around, the shackles jangling loudly. Ezra grunts in response, ignoring my dramatic display from across the room. “I mean, you have to know that these shackles and tonics are only going to work for so long.” I taunt, leaning forward on the bed he’s got me anchored to, the mattress sinking under my movement. “Once these no longer work…what do you think is going to happen?”
“I don’t know.” He growls from over in the window seat. His body is pinned against the glass pane, the corded muscles in his shoulders laced with tension as he stares out of it.
I do.I want to say, but instead I laugh. The twitch under his skin telling me he’s aware ofexactlywhat will happen once his “measures” fail.
“You know it’s funny.” I start waiting for his acknowledgment again.
