The streets are dead. No sound of folk mingling about. Not even a scurrying dog scavenging for scraps.
I shake my head, laughing at my imagination running wild; keeping me balanced on a knife’s sharp edge, while the Zury guards feast on our torment. If they could just run back home to their kennels, we could rebuild our lives.
I start off for home when a shrill shriek burrows deep into my bones. My heart stills, observing a sea of red flowing across the bridge towards the cottage.
Nia. Elana.
Sprinting as fast as I can through Oldtown’s dusty roads, I get to the cottage as the guards disperse. I push past stragglers, freezing in place, taking in the disastrous scene. The door—or what would have been the door—has been kicked in, hangingon by one lonely hinge that refuses to let go. Chairs and tables are thrown across the floor, smashed into kindling.The books lay scattered across the room, having been carelessly tossed from the now-empty bookshelf, their spines cracked and pages damaged.
Elana would be in an uproar if she saw this callous disregard for her treasures.
No blood, that’s a good sign at least. But no hint of Nia or Elana.
My heart lodges in my throat as worry overwhelms me. I wonder where they are. My blanched fingers grip the door frame so tightly, that blood pools under my fingernails. Two guards stroll past, joking and laughing.
“Hey,” I say, trying to get their attention. But they continue to walk past me. Either they didn’t hear, or they chose to ignore me.
“Hey,” I yell louder, my blood angrily pumping through my body.
This time, the guards slow their step, turning to me with wolfish grins on their cold-hearted faces. A blonde guard with a permanent sneer on his face, and the other a bright red head with sharp features and a sharper nose. Young as they may be, they have been well trained in the brutal ways of the Zury army.
“Where are the occupants of this cottage?” I ask, trying to maintain some form of composure and failing miserably.
“What’s it to you? Go on, run along home, boy,” the blonde one grumbles, eyeing me up and down in a degrading manner. Like I am lower than a worm to him. Where does he get off calling me boy? They look barely out of the schoolhouse.
I have never thought of myself as a violent person, but these guards have been pushing me past my limit.
I stalk towards them and their superiority complexes, standing a whole head taller than both guards. “They are my family. So, I’ll ask again. Where are they?”
The two guards look at each other, nodding like they’re talking telepathically. The redhead feigns a turn before throwing his fist straight into my nose, catching me off guard. A warm trickle runs into my mouth, filling my mouth with a metallic, coppery taste.
After everything they have done to this town. To Nia and Elana. To Andi. I couldn’t stop myself now even if I wanted to. My knuckles are bone white from squeezing my fists.
Spitting the blood onto the ground, I wipe the rest from my swollen nose. Twice now, these Zury arseholes have made me bleed. The smug fox-looking fucker thinks he’s beaten me. I nod, smirking before I grab him by his shoulders and smash my head into his, hearing his nose crunch with the impact. Blood gushes down his face; cradling his nose, he stumbles backwards.
The blonde guard stands stunned, watching his buddy flounder about. Taking advantage, I thrust my knee into his groin, sending him to the ground, curling up into a ball, whimpering like an infant.
Kneeling beside them, I huff, “One last time. Where. Are. They?”
The blonde guard rolls along the ground, grunting, “Go fuck… yourself.”
Well, you guys have been very helpful.I boot them in the stomach and turn back to the cottage.
There must be a way to figure out what happened. Someone must have seen something. Could they have run into the woods? Elana knows it well enough, but would they have had enough time to get away from the guards? A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me they didn’t or I wouldn’t have heard a scream.
Making my way back up to the cottage, someone yells from behind me. I peer over my shoulder just as the pummel of a sword smacks into the side of my head, forcing me to my knees.My vision blurs and the ground spins towards me, with another thump on my head, I’m out like a light.
I wake up to the smell of stale beer, slumped onto a sticky bench that I recognise from the tavern. Warm, wet blood drips down my face into my mouth, the sickly taste making me gag.
My head throbs, feeling heavy and swollen, like little pickaxes swiping at my skull trying to break out. I try to shove myself up, but the rope binding my hands, chafes my skin. A guard yanks me upright by the scruff of my top. My vision fills with spots, and I shake my head to get rid of the stars. My memories drip back to me, the scream, the cottage, Nia and Elana gone.
Captain Auron’s smile is a mask; his eyes blaze with a vicious hunger for blood. Spying guards everywhere in the tavern, they take up every bench, every stool. My stomach sinks, wondering how I’m going to get out of this one. The barman, Neal, stands rigid, observing us and listening intently while polishing the glasses.
Neal’s a good guy, loyal to the town, and far from stupid. He will not start a fight, he knows full well he can’t win, and right now, in a room with around twenty guards, there is no chance.
“So, you’re the fucker who attacked my men, eh?” he jeers. “I expected someone… bigger.” He turns to his men and laughs at my expense.
The two guards nurse themselves in the corner, staring daggers the whole time. Plotting some kind of retaliation.
