The creature backs into the nearest wall, thin-slit nostrils flaring as a murderous look consumes her.
Lowering the sword and gripping my upper arm, my protector hauls me away from the scene. “I told you to keep your eyes ahead. All you had to do was keep walking.”
“W-what was that thing?” I stammer.
“A skrellin,” he says, picking up the pace, “and if there is one here now, believe me, there are more on the way.”
A skrellin? Right. I’ve heard about them. They always travel in groups, inhabit some of the forests, and blend in as mortals by adjusting their skin. I didn’t realize their natural form was likethat,though. Skrellins love eatinganythingwith flesh…including mortals.
I peer back to look at the skrellin girl. She shoots me a scowl before morphing back into her mortal form and scurrying away.
…
I bend over the lake, perched on my knees as I scrub the skrellin spit off my brown leather bodice. My hands are trembling, making it harder to remove the stains, but hey, at least I’ve gotten most of it off my satchel and the straps of my rucksack.
I still can’t believe what just happened. I have no doubt Thane would’ve beheaded that thing if it hadn’t backed off, and then it might’ve been blood I was cleaning off my clothes. It’s been a while since I’ve seen anyone bleed from a wound inflicted by someone else. I haven’t witnessed such a thing since Ruvain attacked my kingdom when I was a child.
My chest tightens at the reminder of my past.
I force myself to breathe a little slower, to take a second to calm down. The last thing I need is an attack of anxiety. Those memories still live in my head, though.
All that blood and destruction.
Friends decapitated.
Soldiers hanged from trees.
Others floating in the ocean face down.
Running for my life to reach safety.
Covering my ears while in the bunker to block out explosions and screams.
I concentrate on my reflection in the water in an attempt to rinse the traumatic memories away. My coils are slightly more untamed because of that encounter, and the gold streaks within them appear dull. My face is ashen, drained of most of its color. My deep, sienna-brown skin has seeped away—left on the filthy streets of the Scraps. I’m unintentionally clenching my jaw, so I soften it, taking careful breaths through my nostrils. I scoop more water from the creek onto the bodice and scrub harder with my fingers.
Thane is leaning against a nearby tree, waiting impatiently for me with his arms folded. How can he just stand there like nothing just happened? What if that thing shows up again?
When most of the slime has been cleaned, I dry my bodice off with a cloth from my bag.
“A clearer warning would’ve been nice,” I say, side-eyeing him. I slip into the bodice again, then tie the strings, but I suck my teeth when I spot droplets of dried yellow goop on my beige chemise. Ugh. All of it didn’t come out. Great. One of my favorite tops is now ruined. “And how can you stand there all nonchalant? I was just attacked. You act like this is some kind of game.”
“No,” he says, dropping his arms and pushing off the tree. “Clearly, this is a game toyou, oh sweet one.” His steps are heavy as he approaches me. “Everyone knows not to be friendly or to show any signs of vulnerability with people in the fucking Scraps.”
“Ididn’t know,” I counter.
But I’ve heard stories about the Scraps. In all my years being a citizen of Meriva, I’ve never visited that area before. Many say the people there are assholes but generally mind their own business. Others say the Scrappers are thieving monsters who only look out for themselves. Coming from the Commons, I didn’t know what to believe.
“Is this how it’s going to be during this journey?” Thane asks, frustration lacing his voice. “You getting all friendly with everyone, and me stepping in so you don’t get yourself killed? Because if so, I need more coin for that. Looking out for a person likeyouwith no combat skills who trusts way too easily will require double the work and double the patience.”
“I told you I didn’t know that would happen! She looked like a child—how was I supposed to know she would become thatthingand attack me simply for waving?”
“Look, this isn’t the Commons or even the Prospers, okay? This journey is deadly enough as it is, so from now on, I want you to follow these two rules. Number one,” he says, raising a stern finger in the air as he steps closer. “Keep your kind gestures to yourself. They’ll only get you killed. Number two”—he adds another finger—“stop being so sympathetic. People are poor,and children are starving. None of that is new and you can’t change any of it, so learn how to accept it and move along. Plant those rules like seeds in your friendly, innocent brain and let them take root because if you die over feeling sorry for someone else, that’s onyou.”
I glare at him with a grimace. “Fine.”Asshole.
He strides past me, leaving behind the scent of cedar and leather. I collect my bags and catch up to him.
Begrudgingly I ask, “Where to now?”
