by Jessica Gunn
I rolled over, ready to stop a third attack, but found the human standing over me, firing more shots off with his weird ether at the demons. He didn’t help me up, though—just kept using his magik. I looked around, not daring to move too much, and searched the field for my teammates. Why would demons from Landshaft move a magik-user without first using requirem to block his magik?
More importantly… where the hell were my teammates?
Two of the demons lay on the ground, definitely dead. The two the ether-shaper had hit were staggering. But my teammates…
I touched the back of my head. My fingers came away sticky with warm blood. Had I blacked out? Had I gone unconscious and not remembered? How long had this fight been going on for? I could have sworn it’d only been seconds.
The human above me stopped his attack and glared down at me next. “Are you with them?”
“What? No.” My tongue felt too big, my mouth dry. Stars swam across my vision. “I’m a Hunter.” Which, in hindsight, might not have been the smartest thing to admit. Just because demons used humans for energy and food didn’t mean all humans hated demons. Even if we’d tried saving this one from Landshaft.
He glanced me over, still scowling, and aimed another ether attack at me. Prone, there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Suddenly, chains burst forward, clanging in the air, and wrapped themselves around the man—who was definitely not human, but I hadn’t yet figured out that mystery. I looked side-to-side, peering through the darkness of night to find out which of the Talon soldiers might still be alive enough to attack. But… we weren’t alone.
Another group of soldiers had appeared, this one with what must have been an earth-elemental magik user in front as their fingers slightly glowed as they moved the chains.
The last thing I saw was another set of heavy metal shackles flying toward me.
Chapter 4
Every part of me ached. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, cataloging my injuries before even bothering to be disappointed by whatever situation I’d found myself in. If I couldn’t move or fight, I’d likely be dead anyway.
I swallowed hard and willed my thoughts to move in the thick slush of grogginess and swathes of darkness encapsulating my mind. My head pounded, throbbing with such intensity, there was no other hope but for it to burst. I tried to lift a hand to rub my fingers against my temples, but they were caught. No, not caught. Bound. The tight ropes dug into the skin of my wrists, holding them behind my back. Pain radiated from both my shoulders with the realization, a pounding numbness that spread to my shoulder blades and down my back.
How long had I been here?
I winced as the pain traveled across my spine, the answer clear: hours. Many, many hours.
Licking my lips only supported that theory. The dryness of my mouth surprised me. It was as if I’d been breathing only through it. Which… also explained why my nose felt crusty and broken. Likely from that chain I had a vague memory of flying my way.
I rolled over to one side and pressed a hand against the ground, trying to sit up. My gut twisted, my stomach sloshing.
“Fuck.” I groaned through the pain and discomfort, forcing my way upright and pulling myself against the closest wall. Even as I set my back flat against the rough, cold stone—which felt way too refreshing for comfort—my world spun. I closed my eyes and laid my head back.
In the brief moments of clarity, I saw that the room around me was small. Only maybe fifteen by fifteen feet. I’d been lying on a single sheet of fabric too thin to be called a bedroll. In the corner was a bucket, barely visible in the moonlight streaming in through an inches-wide window near the ceiling. The only door sat on the wall opposite me right now.
A cell. Obviously. And a crude one at that.
Where the hell was I?
One night the team and I had been partying with our friends. The next had been spent camping. And now…
Shadows passed beneath the door, where a tiny space let light in. My brow creased as I leaned toward it, trying to discern what might be on the other side. Or who.
“Think he’s awake.” The words came from a male-sounding figure beyond the door.
A sparking, crackling noise reached my ears before bits of lightning sparked at the bottom of the doorframe, sliding through the space. It arched upward and raced toward me.
Shit! I jolted, trying to move my heavy, pained body, but I didn’t quite move quick enough. The lightning zapped one foot, then sent a chilling, sharp pain up my leg and across my entire being.
And darkness took me once more.
Chapter 5
I jolted upright through the pain, registering too late that lightning was nowhere to be found. And instead of the sharp lick of electricity, my body screamed with an aching, throbbing pain from other various injuries.
“Dammit,” I hissed as the agony passed.
Last I remembered, I’d dragged myself against a wall. Now, I sat in the middle of the cell. Sunlight poked in through the small window near the ceiling, though I couldn’t be sure when it had risen. How long had I been trapped in here? Days? Weeks?
I didn’t feel hungry, which led me to think it hadn’t been long. But the dryness of my mouth and the headache that persisted along with nausea suggested a few days at least. I needed water—and soon.
Blinking to try wetting my tired, dry eyes, I braced myself for more pain. Slowly, I tried pulling apart my wrists. The ropes bit in deeper, bringing a yelp to my lips. I swallowed it down. Whoever had captured me wouldn’t hear a single cry of pain. Not from me. Not now, not ever.
But god dammit, did my arms hurt. Pain sliced up each one, spiraling outward across my back and chest. I couldn’t see far enough behind me to know for sure, but it felt like the skin of my wrists had been rubbed raw.
I glanced around. If I could just get these ropes off, everything would be that much better. But with how my wrists were tied, I couldn’t check my boot for a knife. And it was highly likely that whoever had captured me—probably a demon, given my profession—wouldn’t leave me in a cell while still armed.
Glancing across the room for another possible tool, I saw a tray of food. Well, food was too strong a word for it. The tray, dark grey and cracked, contained two piles of mush, one orange—carrots maybe—and one white, probably mashed potatoes. Beside those was a single slice of bread and a cup of water.
I guessed demons cared a little after all. The carrots and potatoes were by no means still warm, which meant they either didn’t care that much or I’d been out of it for much longer than I’d thought—and they’d anticipated.
My stomach emitted an awful, gargling sound as the smell of the food wafted its way to me and into my swollen nose. Except there was one problem: my wrists were still bound.
I pulled in a heavy breath to keep from sighing so loud any demon guards outside the cell door would hear me. How was I supposed to eat with my wrists bound? Assuming, of course, the food and water weren’t poisoned.
But… My eyes narrowed with the thought. They’ve kept me alive for this long. Why poison me now?
My stomach rumbled again, this time even louder.
“Fine.” I shifted my body until I was on my knees, then made my way to the tray. Bending over, I ate like an animal. Captured prey. A joke. The water was more difficult to manage, resulting in more water on me than in my mouth. But that was fine. If they fed me once, they’d likely do so again. I could wait that long.
Couldn’t I?
As I sat back against a wall, I tried to think clearly enough to make a mental list.
I was injured, which sucked.
Bound, which would definitely prevent escape.
Think, Kian. What other options do you have?
My eyes widened. How could I have been so stupid as to forget? I dared to let hope swell in my chest as I opened my mouth to speak the word, “Teleportante.” The universal teleportation word-magik. One of two that could be used by anyone even if they didn’t normally have magik.
People like me.
Nothing happened.
“Teleportante.”
Again, nothing. No magik pull on my body, drawing me to a new location. No shift in the air.
The only magik I had access to and it didn’t fucking work.
Frustration bloomed into rage and I knocked my head backward into the wall. Anger gave way to a new wave of pain. It did nothing to stifle the confusion.
Injured, with no magik, and prisoner to demons. And if my team hadn’t found me yet, it had to mean they weren’t coming.
There was no backup for me.
I was screwed.
Chapter 6
A few hours later, countable only by the passing of sunlight outside the tiny window I’d watched for hours, the door to the cell finally opened once more. I’d spent the time with my back and arms against the wall. It made the ropes around my wrists dig in more, but it was the only comfortable position for my back. In all that time, I had not seen one bird or shadow pass the window, nor heard any sounds that could give clues as to where I was being held—or by whom.
That meant two things: firstly, the demons had me captured in a remote area. Which made sense, given my team’s last known location miles from the campground. Secondly, it likely meant some sort of magikal barrier had been placed around the compound to keep sounds out. Or, more likely, to keep sounds in. The longer I was kept in here and the more I thought of the food given to me, the more I was beginning to realize the demons might eventually want something in return. Something that might in fact result in screaming.
But there was one more piece of useful information. My inability to teleportante likely wasn’t caused by the magikal barrier around this place, wherever this was. Another word-magik, requirem, could be used to cut off someone’s access to their magik. Usually, it was used on demons and Hunters with magik, not normies like me. But it being used on me would mean that I couldn’t teleportante out. Not even universal word-magiks would work.
The demons, though—they had no way of knowing that I did or didn’t have magik unless they’d seen me in action.
Maybe I could fake it. Or at least bluff.
The door slammed against the stone walls of the cell, jolting me, even though I’d watched it open. “Get up!” said a rough, commanding voice.
“Believe me, if I could, I would,” I drawled. I could stand—I’d done it earlier—but it wasn’t at all graceful and it hurt like a bitch. Every time I moved my arms, I swore the ropes were one step away from making me an amputee.
The demon, a man in what appeared to be his late thirties, with dark hair, dark burgundy demon eyes, and a leather and tunic uniform, grunted my way before stepping closer to me. He bent down, hooked an arm beneath mine, and yanked me upward.
Stars danced along the edges of my vision as pain sprouted throughout my body. The ropes on my wrists cut tight with the sudden, violent movement. Barely, just barely, I managed to bite the insides of my lips to keep a scream from tearing out of my throat.
“Now you can walk,” the demon said.
My body shook with pain—or chills and an infection. “You sure about that?”
The demon spun me toward the door and shoved me hard with a fist into my lower back. The force of it sent me stumbling over my own two useless feet, straight into the wall opposite the door across the hallway. This time I couldn’t keep the yelp inside as my face—and already-broken nose—was the only way to stop my fall. Pain tore through me as something snapped.
The demon laughed at me. “Yes. Now, walk.”
Warm liquid ran down the front of my face and into my mouth. The coppery tang of it made my gut twist. Blood. More blood lost.
I kept my mouth shut and marched onward to the beat of dread poking its way into my mind. I followed the demon’s directions when they came. The space between his words was filled with silence. As I kept passing through the labyrinthine walls of whatever building we were in without resistance, he didn’t touch me again.
Finally, we arrived at an open door on what seemed like the opposite side of the compound. Although we didn’t go outside, I did glimpse out a few small windows on the way. The sun sat low in the sky, peeking through a forest of trees. It was late afternoon, probably. Maybe even later at this point in the summer. And the trees looked similar to the ones near the campground. It was entirely possible I hadn’t been taken far from where the team was.
Which begged the question: Where the hell were they? Stuck here, captured by the same demons? Why catch us and hold us this long? If the demons belonged to Landshaft, the demon city, they’d take us for Autumn Fire, the time of the year when more demons were made and human magik-users were used to do it. The ancient ritual twisted a human’s magik and soul into something demonic.
But none of us were magik-users.
Was it possible Landshaft took non-magik-user slaves?
It was the only logical explanation. Unless… they were planning to get information from us about the Fire Circle?
Over my dead body. It was just as well I knew nothing vital.
But the demons don’t know that.
My demon guard pushed me through the doorway and into the room. It was much bigger than my cell and wider than the hallways that had led here. I hadn’t realized how claustrophobic I’d been feeling until this very moment. I let a small sigh pass my lips but regretted it as the demon guard shoved me forward. A grunt escaped. I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming in pain again.
“Sit,” he said, leading me to a chair in the center of the room.
Oh yeah. No way this ends well. And without teleportante, I wouldn’t be escaping this torture.
Had my team suffered the same?
If I ever made it back to Fire Circle Headquarters, I was going to yell at Jaffrin for this, insubordination be damned. It wasn’t his fault our mission had gone south, but someone needed to take the blame for this. If only to make me feel better about it all. And the Leader of the Fire Circle seemed as good a scapegoat as any.
I complied with the demon guard’s demand and turned to sit in the chair. But just as I considered how awkward it’d be to do so with my arms still tied behind my back, the demon stopped me and drew a knife, cutting the ropes.
My arms fell limp to my sides, tingling and numb from the position they’d been stuck in. And even though being free from the ropes felt amazing, the dull ache in my wrists made me wince.
“Now sit,” he said.
I did so, placing my hands in my lap. My stomach churned, bile rising up the back of my throat, at the sight of my own wrists. I’d been right: a lot of skin was gone, replaced by dried blood and scabs, along with angry red skin.
As I sat there considering my wounded wrists, another two demons came into the room. They both wore the same violet and red uniforms as my guard.
The taller one narrowed his eyes on me before saying, “Let’s make this quick, Hunter. We know you work for the Fire Circle.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out as a hoarse cough that made my throat sore. “Great detective work. I’m impressed, really.”
My demon guard who’d led me in here raised his right hand where, between his fingers, crackles of lighting sparked. A warning.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to be struck by lightning again. Not after earlier.
Narrow Eyes demon glanced down his nose at me. “We have no time for this. When did the Fire Circle decide to protect Neuians?”
My brow furrowed. Neuians? I had no idea what that was. “I don’t know.”
Narrow Eyes looked to my guard for a moment. The guard nodded and with a flick of his fingers sent lightning sparks to my arms and legs. The sparks sizzled through the sleeves of my shirt and part of my pants leg.
I cringed as the crackles snaked across the open wounds on my wrists. “I honestly don’t know!”
“Then why would the Fire Circle send you to free one from our transport?” Narrow Eyes asked.
I glared at him. “I said I don’t fuckin
g know, man! What is a Neuian?”
Narrow Eyes’s face soured as though he didn’t believe a single thing I said. “The person in our care whom you freed.”
“Care isn’t the word I’d use for it, personally.”
The guard reached forward with a knife and slammed it, tip down, on the right armrest of the chair, millimeters from my injured wrist.
“I’m telling you the damn truth!” I shouted, lifting my wrists up. “Even unbound, I know you both could kill me without so much as a thought. I don’t know what a Neuian is. I didn’t realize there were actually Landshaft demons around here. None of us did. We were just—”
I cut myself off before I did exactly what they wanted and divulged too much information. Our team’s story wasn’t a new one. Teams of Hunters on patrol always ran into demons. That was kind of the point of patrolling.
It was just that the rumors about Landshaft having activity here were actually right this time. And that, because of it, my team and I had clearly wandered into some demonic politics we weren’t ready to deal with.
“Just what?” Narrow Eyes asked. “Out for a walk and decided to ally with them?”
I clamped my mouth shut. They weren’t getting anything more out of me.
“Speak, Hunter!”
“Fuck you,” I grunted.
My demon guard reached to grab the knife stuck into my armrest. I shot out a hand at the same time. He backhanded me with his free fist, but everything already hurt to begin with, so ignoring my blackening vision and fresh radiating pain was easy. I gripped over his hand and tried to bring the knife up into his side.
A wall of air slammed into me, drawing the very air from my lungs as though the air had a mind of its own.
It didn’t, of course. Narrow Eyes was an air elemental magik-user. The air might as well have had its own will.
Finally, between pain, knives carving strange and unsettling patterns into my skin—a weird torture to be sure—and lack of oxygen, I fell unconscious once more. Tucked in by a constant stinging and dull ache of pain as my wounds bled like fresh ink.
