Twenty-Eight Samkiel

The whistle sounded so low, yet it pierced my soul. I lifted my head and glanced at the back of the tent. Orym glanced at me as he entered and walked toward his cot.

“Don’t let them get to you,” he said, thinking I was still processing the earlier conversation. “They believe there is no hope, but we know different.”

I forced a small smile and nodded, letting him believe that was the reason for my sudden mood change. I lay down and closed my eyes, listening to the crackle of fire turn to a hiss as the guards covered it with water, snuffing it out. Lifting my lashes just a bit, I peeked at Orym. His arm lay across his chest, the slow rise and fall telling me he was out cold. Yet still, I waited.

Whispers turned to murmurs outside, then silence as the guards on watch moved to the front of the caravan. I pulled back my makeshift blanket and quietly slipped from my cot. Taking one last furtive look around the tent, I lifted the flap we’d created in the back wall and ducked through. I crouched and waited, making sure I heard no guards or movement. Once I was sure it was clear, I secured the flap with the stake and crept toward the forest.

I walked deeper into the brush, in the direction I’d heard that small whistle. I continued until I was sure I was far enough from camp and stopped. It was silent, no whistles, no noise, the forest an empty, desolate place. The only heartbeat out here was my own.

The brush rustled to my left and then right. I turned, chasing the sound. A chill ran across my spine, and the rings in my pocket vibrated, screaming danger. But there was no threat in these woods, at least not to me. There was a snap of a twig, and I glanced behind me. A smile spread across my face, joy filling my heart, and every breath came a bit easier. She descended on me, one forearm pressing lightly under my chin, pinning me to the thick tree at my back.

“Didn’t they teach little gods not to wander the woods alone? Never know what scary Ig’Morruthen you’ll run into.” Her smile cracked every single bit of doubt or fear I had these last weeks, and gods, I melted.

“When you see one, let me know.”

Her eyes softened, a sheen coating them, and I knew mine matched.

“You found me.”

Dianna nodded, lowering her arm. “I’ll always find you.”

She stepped back, but inches between us after so long felt like miles. It was too damn far for me. I reached for her, but she waved my hands off. “Wait.”

My brows furrowed as she reached for her pants.

“I can do that,” I said, touching her hands.

She snorted and stepped away. “Wait. I have something for you.”

“I know. I’m trying to get it.”

Her laugh made me smile, and I waited. She slid a small, thin piece of material around her waist until a tiny vial came into view. It was secured as if it was vitally important to her. She pried it away from the small buttons it was attached to and held it up, the liquid swirling inside as she drew closer.

“Take off your shirt.”

I didn’t even hesitate, hissing as my arm stretched higher than my shoulder. My muscles had started to lock. The veins of poison on my side had spread up my chest, and I feared what would happen when they grew higher. The horrified look on Dianna’s face told me she understood the seriousness.

“Drink this,” she commanded, pushing the vial into my hand.

I twisted the top off and sniffed. My head reared back instinctively, the smell horribly acidic. “What is this?”

“Just trust me. Drink.”

I didn’t hesitate, tipping it to my lips. I watched her the entire time, afraid if I blinked, she would disappear, and I would wake to find this was just another dream. The liquid hit my tongue, and I recoiled, dropping the vial. It tasted exactly how it smelled. It was rancid, but that was the least of my concerns. My body burned, and I grabbed my stomach and hunched over, my entire abdomen pulling tight, every muscle in my body straining. Dianna’s hand was on my shoulder as the hot, needle-like pain ripped through me. I fought to stay conscious, and then, all at once, it dissipated.

“Sami,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

I stood, taking what felt like my first real breath since I woke up. I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable breathing had become until now. Her eyes roamed over my face, then lower. I glanced down, watching in disbelief as those purple poison veins curled in on themselves, drawing back toward the wound and fading until only the scar that slashed across my abdomen was left.

“It worked,” she said, her voice filled with relief. Dianna smiled up at me, her eyes soft with an emotion so profound I couldn’t name it. She opened her mouth to say something else but only managed a gasp as I grabbed her and sealed my lips over hers.