Hello, Little Guy

TYKE

After witnessing the excavation of the most bottomless pit of my life, I carried Vine through the vegetation for five hours. At some point, we had to rest.

I had to.

Everything hurts, body and mind. We've got no wings, stuck on the ground. Most distressing part? Fayra's a target.

Even the river coursing next to us is affecting me. It reminds me of time, as its stream flows on inexorably. And not even my immersed hand pressing against the current can prevent that.

"Eeriefornia's woodland is a jungle. They'll never find us," says Vine, scraping two stones against each other. I'm sitting against a fallen log, staring at her. Actually, I've been staring at her for the last fifteen minutes. Ever since she started rubbing rocks together, to be exact... No girl could be worse at making fires than her.

The entire unit is backslid... the whole fucking team. "Who's to say you won't fuck with me, too?" I spit out.

The movement of her hands halt, clutching the stones as she stares at her pile of twigs.

"You're one of them, aren't you?"

Her eyes dart uncontrollably toward me. "I'm not! It's not because I come from their team that I'm rot like the rest of these scums."

My lips twitch, sore from how my tusks press against them. I keep my eyes focused, watching sweat flow down Vine's forehead. Watch the lump in her throat bulge. Perhaps she's sensing I could impale her, just like I did to the bearded jerk in the van.

She drops her stones and turns to me in a kneeling position. "Something happened when we were in the cathedral. Maybe Mordana didn't kill all her sentries... Maybe one got away."

"Maybe you told them I was dating a fairy before the mission started."

"This is the land of the faefolk; even elves date fae. What are you talking about!? I don't know. It's easy. People saw you with a fairy. Then a vampire took her sweet time to tell us a story. The LD team wondered why. Asked questions, sifted through your files. That's what investigators do."

"Let me do it." I grab the stones and rub them together. A spark ignites, followed by smoke and sizzling dry herbs.

She could be right...

"I gotta get to New Orc." I bury my face in my palms, keep rubbing it, trying to find a damn clue, praying for a miracle. Fuck, I can't even reach Fay...

I lower my hands to the sound of crunched pines. Vine lifts herself up and is now closing the distance a bit too intimate for my taste.

"As much as I hate to break it to you, everything is grounded. No bullet trains, no aeriojets. You can forget about renting wing creatures—all permits have been revoked. The roads are controlled, checkpoints are set up... Haven't you seen the news?"

I lift my eyes to her, feeling my body as flimsy, hollow, and useless as a mere sheath of skin.

Vine clutches my aching head and murmurs, "We'll make it. I don't know how, but we will. I could call my cousin, but they could ping our location." Her fingertips brush my cheeks as she plays with a loose strand of my hair. And I'm seconds from sna?—

Did she just say call?

"We're a day's walk from Los Demones. We'll take my car and ask a witch friend to cloak it with a spell," she goes on.

My blood is rushing through me with such speed it's setting my nerves on fire. It's fine; I take a breath. "Do you have a phone with you?"

"Well, yes?—"

"Give it to me."

"They'll trace it!"

"Give me your fucking phone, Vine."

A lasting eye duel is taking place, and I'm fast on the draw.

"Here!" She pulls the phone out of her pocket and hands it to me."Here!"

Never have I been so efficient at transferring my e-sim code to another phone. Good thing we have the same model...

"I didn't know we could do that?!"

"New thing." I activate a VPN and text Fay.

Little Bug

12:13 pm

Bug, I'm coming for you. Get your things ready. Backpack. Only the essentials. Nothing more. We leave tomorrow.

She replies, "I missed you, too," and I simper, doing what mushroom puffs do: deflate.

Vine, of course, sees it. "Oh my... You're the romantic type, Nills-and-Boon all the way."

"Stop talking." I'd love to keep texting but drop a voice message because I'm having trouble typing. Vine, she has this girly pink keyboard with weird symbols, and I can't distinguish a flower from a simple exclamation mark, so I drop a voice message instead. Talk about a microphone tab... "I have a job for you, fairy. Burn your passport. Any pictures where you're on, cancel your accounts, and destroy your computer. Go to your bank, pull the money out, cash only." Vine ogles at me, making my cheeks burn. Only two things are missing from her: hands clamped together in prayer and a flustered gasp. It's like a clown show; she's mocking me, performing her best.

Slowly turning to my left, I speak lowly. "And close them. Ask them to delete your personal details. That part is important. Don't forget. It takes ten days to do so. Slide them some banknotes and get it done on the spot. Dump your phone in a garbage can at the extremity of the city, fly back, and lock the door and windows." The whole of my body tingles, giving me such energy I could crush an army of trolls. It's been quite some time since I've felt like this, my heart beating with pride from holding a fae within its walls; quite a feeling.

I blink as the flames crack, converging my molten mind toward an all-consuming concern, mouth turning dry. Fay's a dispersed girl; she'll forget things, especially when under the sharp blade of her emotions. Often, she loses track of important information when she gets agitated.

As I lick my bottom lip, doubt rips across my brows. Fay must know I am serious about this.

About to drop another voice message, my eyes lift to meet a sickly expression. Vine is grinning, eyes a slit of lurk. I won't entertain her further—no more voice messages.

Do it.

"Here, done!" I say, throwing her phone she's fast to catch.

Vine shoves it back into her pocket and inches closer to me.

Please, not again!

"You have to trust me." It's stronger than her. Her very nature senses the conflict between us, and I'm not up to a fuck whatever comes up! Then she pauses, her lips a breath away from mine. Every part of me is waiting to strangle her, and the rage has been building since she snuggled up to me.

"What the—Grrmmphf!"

This bloody elf just pushed me into the river!

Splashes and anger stir as I shake the water out of my ears. Holding on my arms, with my cold ass sitting between two river rocks, I let a shiver course through me, and with jaws clenched, growl, "Touch me again, and I'll grind you into elf meat."

She jumps into the water. "Unzip, captain."

"No."

"Captain." Furtively, she leans towards me, grabs the zipper, and flies it all the way down to my belt.

I seize her wrist, the zipper still in her grip. "Vine. I've been patient."

"I know. But you need to be taken care of," she says, studying my wound.

I close my eyes and release a submitting breath.

Vine tugs at my sleeves, helping me as I pull my arms free. And I groan, pain rising from the fabric peeling off my gash when she lifts my bulletproof vest over my head.

Then, rolling my tactical outfit to my hips, she frowns as she discovers my skin.

Ice-cold water washes over me as she cleanses my torso, my lungs recoiling at the freshness. "There's no need for this."

"Yeah, just keep grumbling and let me determine how you stack up."

Her fingers press on my cut, and I hiss, feeling blood ooze out of it. "It needs covering." She sits back on her knees and brings a finger to her lips, apparently thinking.

"It's okay, Vine. I've had worse."

With wet hair slicked to her forehead, she's still pondering and by the way she's murmuring to herself, she's nowhere near giving up. "Wait. I have an idea."

She unsnaps her military jumpsuit, removes her arms from it, and draws a knife from her ankle holster.

She begins tearing at her suit at hip level.

"You don't need to do that. Cut into mine instead."

More tearing follows. "We don't want your fairy to be greeted with an orc in rags. You're already in a sorry state, least we can do is make you presentable." Her mocking tone doesn't match her gesture, far from it.

She places her homemade bandage, encircling me with a belt made of torn sleeves. It's just long enough to go around me once. And tying the hems in a knot, Vine concludes her nursing session with a smile. "Here. This will help stop the bleeding."

I seize my protective vest laid on the grass, but she takes it right back. "Never use old blood against a wound. Infections are sly bitches."

I snatch it back, thinking how many times this thing saved my life. "Let's agree to disagree on this."

"As you wish."

I shove my arms back in, and this time, I pull my zipper up.

My accidental glance at her breast leaves an impression.

Vine's cheeks can't be redder. If she knew how little I care...

Ducking my gaze, I mumble, "Thanks."

She delves her arms back into her suit and titters, "You're welcome."

The elf's got heart...

"You hear that?"

"Hear what, girl?"

"Shh."

Rustling... An abrupt realization strikes me like a sledgehammer. Something is out there, watching us.

"Listen," she whispers.

I follow her gaze. There is nothing but greenery, rocks, and wildflowers, the prickly sort of shrubs.

Two orange flowers dance with subtle movements as if possessed.

They blink.

I immediately reach for my rifle.

I signal her to be quiet and get low to the ground.

Two copper eyelets are cutting through the greenery.

A rockswine.

I adjust my rifle, cock the hammer, and fire.

Bang!

I watch the glowing embers struggle to grow into anything but flames. Behind this smoking bed of coal and stones, sits Vine and her fucking arts and crafts project. She's whittling a twig, and I regret having taken the darn shot.

It's quite possible Vine'll eat the venison raw—her dark elfness is a known fact. And right now, cooked or not, she will take her sweet little time on that thigh bone. Licking that thing dry if it kills her. Look at those teeth, not even close to sinking into flesh and sputtering already...

"Just eat it, Vine. We have to get moving."

"Patience is key, captain."

My hatred for her is at an all-time high. I'm giving her ten minutes, and then I'm leaving, with or without her.

Frustration seeps out of me as I glance down at my findings.

My hand clenches my phoenix feather, contemplating its meaning. Fire.

Found it at the feet of the rockswine's body.

Or maybe it found me.

Orcana is full of myths about them—promises of wrath from the skies, gliders of fire that, once awake and galvanized by flames, will sweep away entire lands.

"Should eat. What'd you say?"

I lift my eyes. Vine is piercing the creature from ass to mouth with her skewer, its freshly peeled pelt nearby. Food is a reward for orcs. We usually do what is necessary to be rewarded, in other words, the number of tusks we can bring back from a battle, but even the society I live in messed things up for me. "I'll eat in New Orc."

I bend the feather's quill, creating a little ring, then secure it with a thread of my hair. Orcs don't believe in omens, but we do use these against our adversaries, and phoenix feathers make no exception. It has become a war ritual, knotted in our hair, making our enemies blanch as we bring this legend to life. Wrath.

And maybe that's my omen... I insert one of my three strands into the feather's loop before plaiting my hair. The last time I wore one was a long time ago, when my sister still breathed... and died. But I'm older and tougher this time around, and if I have to spill more blood, I will.

I pull my hair back over my shoulder, fear of losing Fay kicking in an instinct to toss Vine's food into a ditch. But instead, I clasp my hands over my knees, watching this tiny hog roast. She's got five minutes left.

"We'll find a way out," Vine says, going for a tasty thigh.

I watch as she sinks her pointed teeth into the meat and tears off a big chunk. "You should try this," she says, stuffing her face with charred fat.

I shake my head, not in the mood for anything right now.

My pocket comes back to life. Haven't really tended to this scaled rat...

Magnus crawls out and hops laboriously over pinecones, rocks, and roots to Vine, or more precisely, to the skewer she's holding. "Hello, little guy," Vine says. Women seem so full of love when it comes to four-legged creatures... I don't get it.

"You want a piece?" She peels a strip of skin and places it on her thumb.

'"Didn't Mordana say not to give him meat?" I mumble.

"Are you afraid he's going to ruin the place because he can't control his digestion?" She giggles. "Come on, let Magnus have some."

"Because you think if I say no, it understands..."

Magnus laps at her finger, gets agitated, and lunges at her wooden skewer. "Hey, buddy! That's mine!" She wiggles her stick, trying to shake him off. But the little guy seems so hungry that his claws stay well embedded in the meat.

"Captain..."

"I see it."

"Captain!"

"Drop your stupid twig and step back."

Well, I'll be damned...

Magnus grows at the speed of light, smoke swirling around him, soon swallowed by thick white smoke until we can no longer see a thing.

I swiftly turn to Vine. Her expression of uncertainty grows with each passing second, but certainly not as much as mine.

"That's not a dwarf dragon!" She's shouting and so loudly, too, I can't hear a damn word of what she's saying.

A violent pounding shakes the earth beneath our feet, and I stumble, dropping to all fours. My gaze pulls from the ground only to land on an enormous, curved blade cinched in the earth. A deadly claw, scythe-like and as thick as a tree stump. Magnus starts to tear up the ground beneath him and seems to enjoy ripping and tearing rocks to shreds. No doubt he liked his meat...

His tail split into three nervous, powerful fiery whips flicking fire. It's still tough to decide whether to run, especially when I spot his long, spiraled horns drawing a wreath of flames with each head movement. If Deon could see this, he'd take him as a pet in a heartbeat. Below each side of its snout, three canines, a length no one could imagine, outgrow its scaled smoking nostrils, their wet shines vibrating from his deep thrums.

Think I'm gonna keep him after all...

My head tilts backward as my eyes follow my colossal dragon breaking through the treetops, emitting a cruel, almost thunderous roar.

Instantly dispersing the smoke, he blows a powerful blast of wind from his nostrils, which forces me to brace a knee on the ground. Fierce, good boy...

Finally, my miracle is complete when huge red sails unfurl from its back, crushing trees and covering the sky with a bloody veil.

Wings!

Vine falls on her backside when his massive scaly head stops at a thread's hair from her face. A giant eye, bourbon-colored, opens, the slit viperous.

Vine is livid.

Me, on the other hand, I'm glowing like a Hexmas tree. "Think we might have just found our ride, Bell..."