Endure

by Sara B. Larson

  He glanced at me lying on the ground, my eyes open, and shook his head.

  “You should sleep while you have the chance,” he said in his thick accent.

  I didn’t respond except to close my eyes and will my heart to calm. The sounds of him moving around the tent set my nerves on edge, and it took all my concentration not to tense. The newfound energy Akio had given me was an unexpected gift — but it also took away some of the exhaustion that had weighed me down and would have enabled me to sleep despite all the anxious worries clawing at my mind.

  Finally, I heard him lay down. I hadn’t realized he intended to stay in the same tent as me, and suddenly any hopes I had of sleeping were dashed. My heart kicked up a notch as a fresh wave of fear hit me. I cracked one eye open to see him lying on his side a few feet away, watching me.

  I swallowed my gasp of fear and, with a shudder, squeezed my eyes shut again, forcing myself to pretend I was somewhere else — anywhere else.

  “Sleep, Alexa. I won’t touch you anymore … tonight.” His soft, menacing words did little to comfort me.

  It was difficult with my arms bound, but I managed to roll onto my side, turning my back to him. And then I pretended I was back in the palace with Damian. I imagined lying beside him, his arms securely wrapped around me. Another tear leaked out of my eye as the sounds of The Summoner’s soft snores finally filled the tent.

  The next day was exactly the same as the first, and the next few days after that, with no food or water for me, and The Summoner bleeding me at night before disappearing with my blood for a couple of hours. That’s when Akio would try to sneak into the tent and bring me a little water or food, and heal me just enough to keep the worst effects of The Summoner’s torture at bay. He said little and refused to answer my whispered questions.

  As we traveled, the landscape began to change from the rolling, sandy hills to harder, flatter ground. We passed several small towns built around narrow, muddy streams. Some of the townspeople stood outside their homes, which seemed to be made of hardened mud, but others stayed as far away from the king’s massive army as possible, peeking out from darkened windows as we passed them by. The closer we got to Antion, the more vegetation and water there was. The horses and soldiers and sorcerers alike were all given plenty.

  Everyone except me.

  But I made my face stay still, completely emotionless, staring forward as everyone around me drank their fill from the streams by which we’d stop for breaks. Though it was still hot, the air had grown more humid again, and clouds could be seen on the horizon more and more frequently as the days passed. Part of me was grateful for the relief, but the other part of me grew progressively more concerned. In the distance, I could see the massive Naswais Mountains, the jagged teeth of their peaks jutting far into the sky. We were getting close now — too close.

  And then one afternoon, after days of travel, my horse plodded up and over a hill, and suddenly rising in the distance was the massive wall that separated our two kingdoms.

  We’d reached Antion.

  We arrived at the wall as the sun dipped low on the western horizon, bleeding the light of day away into the darkness of the oncoming night. But rather than pressing on, the huge army came to a halt, making camp right next to the even-more-massive wall.

  Every night had been the same, everyone moving quickly to do their jobs — very orderly. But tonight, something was off. Something was different. Soldiers rushed back and forth, seemingly distracted and perhaps even a little on edge. Normally, they were very cautious to remain silent whenever they were near me, but tonight, they spoke to one another, sometimes even yelling back and forth, without caring about me at all. It didn’t matter though, since they spoke Dansiian. All I could decipher was that some of them seemed upset, and others seemed to be irritated.

  The Summoner, whose tent had yet to be set up, seemed particularly annoyed when he finally dragged me off my horse and tied me to a tree without a word. He stalked off into the growing darkness, leaving me alone in the chaos. In his rush, he hadn’t tied my bindings as well as normal, and if I worked at it long enough, I was confident that I could get at least one of my hands free from the rope and make an attempt at escaping. But did I dare try while it was still light, with the Dansiian soldiers and sorcerers surrounding me?

  It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t get another opportunity to try, I reasoned. I was as good as dead anyway, so if I got killed escaping, perhaps that would just end my agony sooner.

  I’d had my hands tied together in front of me on the horse, so they could secure the rope to the saddle, and rather than taking the time to change that, The Summoner had tied me facing the tree. I stepped closer to it to conceal the movement of my arms as I began to try to work my hand free. He’d also quickly tied my ankles together before leaving, but if I was able to get my hands free, it would only be the work of a moment to free my legs as well.

  The sounds of the camp got pushed to the background of my mind, behind the dull roar of my pounding blood. My wrists were still a little raw from the manacles I’d worn for so long, despite Akio’s rushed healings at night, and the rope quickly bit away at my irritated skin as I sawed my hands back and forth, trying to wiggle the little bit of give in the rope into just a little bit more so I could rip one of my hands free.

  “Stop it right now.” An angry whisper from beside me made me jump and twist to see Akio glaring at me, in between repeated glances over his shoulder.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  “I know what you’re doing, and you have to stop.”

  All the adrenaline that had been surging through my body moments before — apparently keeping me from hearing his approach — drained away, and suddenly I could barely force myself to remain standing. I turned my head away from Akio, so he couldn’t see the devastation on my face.

  But rather than walking away or raising his voice to turn me in, he walked around me to stand in my line of sight again, purposefully turning his body partially away from me and barely moving his lips as he spoke. His voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear him.

  “The king received word tonight that Antion is falling apart — his scouts believe that many people are fleeing the kingdom, despite the war with Blevon. There are even rumors that the king has disappeared.”

  Everything in me went cold at his words. Damian was gone? Where? Why? How? And why was he telling me this?

  “King Armando is ruthless, as you know. I’m nervous about what he’s going to do. But you can’t try to escape right now — you won’t make it past the wall.”

  Someone shouted something in Dansiian, and Akio ducked his head down, as though he was examining something on the ground, and then suddenly walked away.

  I made myself stare forward, at the tree I was tied to, rather than craning my head to watch him leave. My heart pummeled my ribs, slamming my blood through my body. My head swam with the implications of what he’d said. Damian was missing. The people of Antion were fleeing — probably having heard that the Dansiian army was on the move from our scouts. King Armando was angry, which meant more suffering and death. But then, that last little bit … he’d said I can’t try to escape right now. Not I will let it go this time, but if I catch you again I will have you punished or The Summoner and King Armando will hear about this. He’d stopped me because he said I wouldn’t make it past the wall.

  Did that mean he was hoping I did escape — once we were in Antion? Was that why he was helping me at night, trying to keep me from dying?

  I finally dared turn my head, scanning the hastily erected camp, but there was no sign of Akio. He’d disappeared into the chaos.

  When The Summoner returned, he was visibly upset. His skin was even more pale than normal, and his thin mouth pressed into a terse line that all but made his lips disappear. He strode over to where I was still tied to the tree, my legs aching from exhaustion due to lack of use and lack of food, and ripped the ropes free, then jerked me toward the
tent that had now been set up for him — for us.

  Once he’d tied me to the tent pole yet again, binding my arms to my body so that I couldn’t struggle, he pulled out the device that I’d come to hate so much and yanked my sleeve up to remove the strip of fabric he’d tied around the open wounds that throbbed with every beat of my heart.

  He muttered something in Dansiian as he attached the bottle already stained with my blood to the end of the metal tube.

  “I don’t speak Dansiian, you know. If you’d like to make conversation, you’ll have to try Antionese.” Though I risked his wrath by baiting him, it made me feel as though I still had at least a small bit of power over my situation — over him. He stole my blood, he was slowly killing me, but at least I could get under his skin and irritate him until the day I died.

  Unless Akio really was going to help me escape.

  His eyes flickered to mine, and I quickly looked away. “We need more,” he said in my language, his voice mocking. “We need all of your blood.”

  “But you haven’t even made it into Antion yet. How long will the effects last?” I didn’t believe my blood would do anything to help any of them, but there was no proof, since they hadn’t had to battle yet. Still, his words had sent a sudden schism of terror through my fragile hope. If he intended to take all my blood tonight, then this was it for me. Wall or no wall, I wasn’t going to survive until morning to cross through it.

  Akio should have let me take my chances.

  “I’m not going to take it all now, you fool girl,” he responded, and I released a shuddering breath of relief. “But soon. Soon, I will.” He stared down at the device, turning it over in his hands. I cringed, waiting for the blinding pain that would come when it gouged my skin and entered my veins. But instead of shoving it into my arm, he abruptly stood up and strode out of the tent.

  I sat on the hard ground, trying to hold back the sudden sobs that threatened to rack my body. I’d been sure this was it. Though I knew my death was imminent, some part of me still had managed to cling to the hope that I would be able to escape. And now, after Akio’s strange interference with my one chance to try, that tiny seed of hope had blossomed into a pulsing root of belief that perhaps I truly could — that maybe I had somehow found an ally in this terrifying kingdom of black sorcery and blood-power and violence. The Summoner’s words had stolen all of that from me, leaving me shaken and struggling to breathe normally. Not tonight, I reminded myself. He said he wasn’t going to take all my blood tonight.

  But soon, he would. The battle King Armando had been planning for decades — the fight to take control of our entire world and the hidden power Blevon still controlled — was looming in front of us.

  If I didn’t escape, he was going to have The Summoner bleed me to death to try and ensure his victory.

  Akio slipped beneath the tent right beside me only moments after The Summoner had left.

  “He didn’t bleed you tonight?” he whispered, his voice quiet but urgent.

  I shook my head.

  Akio glanced at the tent flap in alarm. “Then I have no idea how long he will be gone.” He reached beneath his robe and pulled out a flagon and a small piece of cheese. “Here, hurry and eat this.”

  I practically inhaled the cheese, which barely touched the gnawing, all-consuming hunger that made my belly burn all day and night, then I took three huge swallows of water from his flagon. The whole time Akio crouched beside me, his head cocked, listening intently for any warning that The Summoner was coming back. He’d just taken the flagon back when we both stiffened at the barely decipherable sound of boots crunching across the rocky patch of ground the tent had been set up on.

  Akio lunged for the edge of the tent, rolling underneath it as quickly as he could, but the flap opened before he’d made it completely. My heart jumped into my throat when The Summoner marched in, but through a twist of luck, his head was turned back, looking at someone behind him rather than forward at the interior of his tent. Akio slipped away without discovery.

  But my focus was now on The Summoner, who was no longer alone. Directly behind him was King Armando.

  The king slowly made his way toward me, his piercing blue eyes studying me the way a predator inspects its prey before devouring it.

  “You’re right,” he said at last, making me wonder what on earth I was right about — until he turned to face The Summoner. “She’s not going to last the week like this. We need to conserve her blood — for now. Until the opportune moment.”

  I glared up at him, keeping my face emotionless. He wore all black again, except for his usual sash and the golden crown inlaid with many large gemstones that glittered, even in the darkness inside the tent.

  “You’d best start giving her water — just enough so that her blood supply will rebuild.” The king’s eyes narrowed as he bent down to grab my jaw. “Your blood had better not fail me.” His voice was deadly quiet.

  I remained silent, clenching my teeth against the bruising force of his fingers on my skin.

  Finally, he shoved my head back, slamming it against the pole behind me. Armando straightened and turned to The Summoner. “We’re almost there,” he said. “Soon, you will have your ultimate reward.”

  The Summoner nodded, bending his head and bowing to the king as Armando strode out of the tent, leaving us alone once more.

  The Summoner almost seemed angry when he uncapped his flagon and pushed it against my lips.

  “Drink,” he commanded, as if I needed his urging.

  I swallowed as much as I could before he yanked it away and wiped it off, then recapped it. Apparently, my blood was fit to be consumed, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink out of the same flagon that I had without cleaning it first.

  Though I was still starving, the water and the small bit of cheese at least filled my stomach with something as I rolled onto my side, away from The Summoner’s disconcerting stare, to try and sleep that night. But even though I knew I was safe from him once his usual soft snore began, I still couldn’t relax. Too many questions, too many fears, and too many hopes all conspired to keep me up most of the night. The worst one of all was wondering what had happened to Damian. When I’d left, Blevon had just declared war on Antion again, through General Tinso. What if Blevon had invaded and this time succeeded in defeating Antion? What if Damian was …

  I couldn’t even let myself finish the thought. He was alive. He had to be alive.

  I repeated it to myself for hours until, finally, I drifted off to sleep only a short while before dawn.

  The next day, we woke to a storm, the first I’d seen in weeks. The first bit of rain broke as I slumped in the saddle upon my horse, tied to the metal ring as usual, my feet tied to the stirrups as well this time, waiting in the huge line of soldiers and sorcerers that made up the Dansiian army as it slowly passed through the one opening in the wall that would allow us into Antion. I’d never gone this long without food, and despite Akio’s attempts to help me, I could barely sit up in the saddle. But the rain had a rejuvenating effect on me. I opened my mouth and let it drip onto my teeth and tongue, running down my throat.

  Those little droplets of water plopping on my skin, rolling down my cheeks and neck and arms, made me realize how much I’d missed the jungle. I’d spent my whole life hating it — fearing it — but now, after my time as a prisoner in Dansii, I realized just how much I loved Antion. It was dangerous, yes. But it was also beautiful, and lush. Water was never in short supply, and the heat was tempered by the steady storms.

  It hadn’t been that long when soldiers began shouting at us all in Dansiian, pushing the line back rather than forward.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, craning my head to try and see what was ahead of us — why they were suddenly in such a rush to get further away from the wall, rather than closer.

  When Akio went riding past us on a large white stallion with the longest mane I’d ever seen, I shouted my question again.

  He wheeled his horse
around and called back, “The Antionese are gone — the city is deserted on the other side of the wall. The king has ordered it taken down to speed up our passage.”

  The Summoner, who had ridden ahead, turned in his saddle when he heard Antionese from one of his men, and when he saw Akio riding away, his eyes narrowed. A slice of fear cut through me at the look on his face. I was suddenly afraid that by answering my question, Akio had just given The Summoner reason to suspect him.

  I tried to brush it off, to convince myself that there was absolutely no reason for The Summoner to suspect Akio, but that pulsing instinct I’d learned to trust long ago warned me that Akio was in danger.

  I glanced over my shoulder, but he’d already ridden out of sight, spreading the message to back away from the wall. What had he meant by having the wall taken down?

  The Summoner rode back to where my horse stood a short time later and grabbed her reins to pull her back with the rest of the remaining army still in Dansii. Once I was sandwiched between two huge soldiers dressed in black and red, who were also on horses, rather than on foot like the majority of the non-sorcerers, he barked something at them in Dansiian, and they nodded quickly, murmuring their responses. One of them reached out and grabbed the reins of my horse, and the other urged his horse closer so that his leg was almost pressed against mine.

  Once The Summoner seemed satisfied that they had complied with his order, he wheeled his horse around and sent him charging forward — toward the wall.

  I glanced around, blinking against the rain that had grown steadily more insistent, wondering if anyone else was questioning why he was going the wrong direction, but no one seemed concerned.

  A few minutes later, a colossal boom nearly deafened me and made the very earth beneath my horse’s hooves tremble. She tossed her head, prancing in fear, as did the mounts of the two men on either side of me. As they struggled to keep the horses from spooking and bolting, I just focused on trying not to fall out of the saddle and get trampled, since I was tied to my horse.