Then we soared into the starry night sky, both of us surging in what felt like a net.Traps. My stomach plummeted. I looked down, only to find us hanging very high above ground. The sight was both dizzying and nauseating. The trees, I noticed, appeared taller than ever when looked at upside down.
This is not happening! We’re hanging near godsdamned treetops!
I gripped the net’s webbing between my fingers, getting the feel that the ropes were made from roots and vines. I hoped they would hold.
In the dark silence, the floor crunched and twigs snapped, until four figures unveiled themselves from beneath the foliage—so far away beneath us. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was the gloomynight that made their skin appear dark…but then I realised. We were still in Myrkvein after all.Thosewere Strongmen. And they weren’t called Strongmen for nothing. They were basically an upgraded version of humans—bigger and thrice as strong.
My mind riffled through creative thoughts of escape but I came up short. The only way out of this net was to either burn it down or cut it loose, and both methods led to us dying. So I found myself looking at Marshen with pleading eyes. “Shit! What are we going to do?”
“Well, now we hope that they don’t cut that rope over there. Do you see it? If they cut that one, we’ll fall to our deaths.”
“How fucking helpful,” I spat. I looked down. “Hey! Let us down, let’s talk!” I yelled.
“We’re just passing by. We mean no threat,” Marshen shouted.
They did not reply to our futile pleas. They did not even look our way. They just stood there discussing something that was obviously us.
After what felt like forever, one of the Strongmen approached the rope—the same rope Marshen had pointed at—and my heart leapt.
“Oh no,” I squealed. “We’re going to die.”
The rope, however, was not cut or let go of, but was loosened slowly.Thank the gods.
They were lowering us down. Not they—one of them was lowering both of us down. Strongman indeed.
I regained my balance the second my feet touched the ground. My hand went to my side in reach of my dagger.
“Ah-ah!” the one pointing an arrow at my head warned. “Hands up.”
The one that lowered us—the bigger one with a shaved head—disarmed me in seconds. “Hands out.”
My brow knitted when he handed me a rope through the net’s webbing. “Tie him up.”
“What?” I almost whispered.
“You, turn around,” he ordered Marshen. Then he looked my way. “You, tie him up.”
I reluctantly obeyed.
As soon as the net fell around our feet, the one still pointing the arrow at me moved close. “Hands up,” he ordered once more.
“What are you—”
Big One tied the ends of Marshen’s rope, once around my waist and twice around my wrists. We were not getting out of this.
“What are—”
“Walk,” Arrow ordered, nudging his bow.
“Where are you taking us?” I demanded, with a raw and desperate throat.
“Move.”
“We were just passing by, we’re heading north. Please let us go.”
“Shut up, or I’ll tie your tongue next. Either you move or I’ll pull you, it’s your choice.”
Oh, lovely, I have a choice in something.
