11. Surviving The Night

11. Surviving The Night

Niles

Warrose and Skylenna fall asleepalmost immediately after I assist with picking the lock of her shackles through careful instruction. And Ruth follows shortly after, never letting go of Skylenna’s hand.

I try not to wake anyone up as I cry into my hands.

That was excruciating to watch. Hearing her scream, seeing her naked body sprint through the dim halls, watching the blood drip and gush over her skin. I can’t rid the images from my mind.

And the way they beat her. My shoulders shudder violently. Heaven have mercy…I’m surprised she survived.

Ruth and I held hands the entire time. Praying. Hoping. Screaming for those bags of rotten meat to let her go, leave her alone, stop hurting our sister. I held my cries in for Ruth. How could I break apart when she is always so strong?

But now that everyone is sleeping peacefully, I can let it all go. The tears stream down my neck and onto my bare chest. I’ve learned a thing or two about crying silently. When I was a small lad, I used to cry after lessons at the child brothel. I used to sob so loudly that they’d have to beat me for it.

An older girl named Edna taught me how to cry without making a sound. She taught me how to hold myself together until I was alone. She showed me the ropes, made me strong, helped me cope with my fate. That same year, Edna ran away, only to be found and drowned in a river by her uncle.

“Niles?”

I sniffle before I turn to face Marilynn.

She’s scowling, like she doesn’t want to care to ask, but does. “Are you in pain?”

I shake my head, quickly wiping my wet face.

“Worried about Skylenna?” she asks again.

“Yeah.” Damn, I need a tissue. “That was just…a lot to see.”

She waits a few moments with that nearly permanent grimace, watching me clean myself up. “You really love her, don’t you?”

I sigh. “So fucking much.”

“Have you told her how you feel about her?” she asks hesitantly.

“I mean, she knows—wait.” I choke on a laugh. “I’m not in love with her. She’s my family. Like my little sister.”

Marilynn blinks in surprise. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. They are both such beautiful women, Ruth and Skylenna.”

“And they’d be the ones falling for me. Not the other way around.” Sure, they’re pretty and all. But look at me.

She smirks. “I see.” But something clouds over her eyes.

What an odd woman. How can someone frown and smirk at the same time? She always has her arms crossed, standing away from us in an off-putting stance. Like she doesn’t want to stand near our family. Doesn’t exactly want to be associated.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Well,—” she pulls her long, red hair to one side“—I’m so hungry. My stomach is eating itself.”

I know the feeling. It’s been two days without a meal. How long will this last?

“I haven’t followed the lady-doll regimen in years. I’ve always hated this kind of fasting.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Look at me. I love good food, and it shows.” She wafts her hands over her curves. And fuck me, because my eyes linger way too long on her heavy breasts and soft thighs.

“You look goo—nice.” I dart my eyes away. “Very good and nice.”

“Thanks.” She almost laughs. The sound is strained and weird, and some might say it was a cough. But it was definitely, almost, probably, kind of a laugh!

“I have a new respect for the women in our city, forced to do the lady-doll regimen. This is brutal. And yet they’d go through this hunger every day.”

Marilynn nods, deep in brooding thought. “Unfortunately, most of them aren’t forced anymore. Not like they were during the first years of settlement. They’re deeply brainwashed. It would take a lot to change that society.”

Before I can think of a response, Skylenna lets out a childlike whimper.

We whip around, turning to face her still nuzzled in Warrose’s arms. But something shifts in the last cage. Dessin shifts, watching her stiffly.

“Have you been awake this whole time?” I ask him.

Dessin gives me a look that could kill. It’s insufferable, full of exhaustion and nervous energy. So, that’s clearly a yes, and also, fuck you, Niles.

Skylenna sucks in a sharp breath before she wakes herself up in a crying fit. Holding her arms up, defending herself from air, from nothing. Tears well over her swollen cheekbones. And her throat is hoarse, scratchy as she pants.

Dessin and I are on our feet, gripping the bars of our cage, powerless to help her. The thrashing wakes Warrose up abruptly.

“Help her,” Dessin barks.

“I got it,” Warrose says, trying to hold Skylenna still. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay.”

But her arms stay up to protect herself, and she isn’t calming down.

“Tell her she’s safe.”

Warrose glances at Dessin, then back to Skylenna’s wincing face. “You’re safe, Skylenna.”

“Keep saying it.”

It takes several times, chanting that phrase that Dessin seems so sure of. He rocks her back and forth, wipes her tears away with the pad of his thumb. And through his gentle voice and soothing presence, I decide I respect him a hell of a lot more. Warrose doesn’t know Skylenna as well as Dessin, Ruth, and me. He’s Dessin’s friend. Yet he’s working so hard to take care of her, to help her sleep peacefully, to assure her that she’s no longer in danger.

“I’m safe,” Skylenna finally mutters back in a disoriented haze.

Dessin sighs, sliding down to the ground.

“Good.” Warrose releases a breath. “Now, sleep, kid.”

I relax my shoulders and take my seat. From this angle, I study the bars on Dessin’s cage. No…that can’t be right. I lean forward to get a better look. Two bars are bent away from each other. As if someone was trying to pull them apart.

My gawking stare flicks to Dessin, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he watches Skylenna like a hawk.

He almost succeeded in prying his cage apart just to save her from the Blood Mammoths. My eyes gloss over with tears, and my throat becomes thick. He really would do anything for this girl.

He’d bend iron with his bare hands.

“Wow,” Marilynn utters next to me.

I peek over at her.

She nods at Dessin’s cage. “Only one explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“Soul mates.”

~

Ruth

Leaves slap across my faceas I sprint through the Emerald Forest. The earthy air is layered with fog, and the soil is damp but soft, sticking to the bottoms of my bare feet.

I feel like I’m flying.

My body is learning to move faster, the muscles in my legs looking defined.

I can be useful.

“Shit.”

A gurgling sound echoes through the trees, the stones, the mountains. Then, coughing. Loud, wet heaving. I stop running and look up to the sky.

“Flip her over!”

I jerk upright in my cage, blinking away the sleep as I try to make out what I’m seeing. Warrose turns Skylenna on her side, lightly patting her back to get her to cough.

The phlegm in her chest is thick, sticky as it clings to her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut as her body convulses, clenching and contracting to get out whatever is lacing her lungs.

“You’re doing great, just clear it out,” Warrose says soothingly.

I stroke her arm through the cage, covered in dried blood and sweat.

“Does she have a fever?” I ask.

Warrose shakes his head. “The opposite. She’s still cold.”

Hands bang against bars. Once. Twice.

I stare at Dessin with wide eyes. He looks like he’s seconds away from having a full meltdown.

“She definitely has a broken rib.” Warrose presses lightly on her side.

Skylenna spits to the side as she clears whatever was in her throat.

“She’s going to be alright,” I tell Dessin, trying to calm him down. “We just have to get through the night.” Although my heart doesn’t believe it. I ache everywhere for her. My soul sister. She looks moments away from being swept up by the angel of death. I blink away the tears gathering in my eyes.

Skylenna lets out an agonized groan. Dessin grips the bars, flexing every muscle in his upper body.

“Want me to sing you to sleep?” Warrose whispers.

She tries to nod. But it’s barely a movement. I want to kiss her cheeks. Tell her she’s so brave. Tell her how I look up to her, admire her strength, and want to be just like her.

Wait, sing? Warrose can sing?

He pulls her to his chest again, cradles her softly until his chin rests on the top of her head.

I can’t help but start to cringe as I imagine his rough, deep voice breaking out into a song. There’s no way he’s talented in this area. His natural pitch is a growl, ragged, and baritone.

“Hidden in the red, it’s said he’s made of storm.” The words are edged and flowy, sinking to the pit of my stomach. My mouth falls open.

“Spun of thunder, built of lightning, of a god is how he was born.”

Niles sits up next to me. My skin prickles with goose bumps. That voice. So full of soul. Of emotion. It makes my lungs empty of air.

“He cannot be seen beneath the darkened skies. Can only be felt in a time so dire. Not a dragon that soars the clouds, but an angel that brings fire.”

“Christ,” Niles mutters.

“In the darkness, in the shadow, all alone he will wait. For the RottWeilen belong with a family of fate.”

I gasp with Niles. This song is about

“DaiSzek.” Skylenna smiles with her eyes closed. “My boy.”

Warrose continues singing, lulling her to sleep with his husky, soft words. A tune that nudges my heart, chips it right down the middle.

She snores lightly against his chest. We’re all silent as we listen.

“That was beautiful, Warrose,” Niles says.

Warrose glimpses over my head, raising his eyebrows at Niles in acknowledgment.

“Did you make that up?” I ask him quietly, careful not to wake Skylenna.

“No.”

“Where did you learn it?”

“It was just a song I learned as a kid. Some people in the Bear Traps had legends of RottWeilen, of ancient spirits, hidden villages, time travelers. Old wives’ tales.”

I smile. “They thought he was a bedtime story.”

Warrose nods.

I watch him from the corner of my eye, studying the way he holds Skylenna like a small child. And she does look small in his massive arms against his brawny chest. I’ve never seen him so gentle, so sweet. He took care of Niles, Chekiss, and me when we were following Skylenna through her journey to learn about her past, but he was so grumpy then.

Now… he looks like he’s afraid to hurt her by moving. Afraid to wake her up. Afraid to go to sleep. Like a father taking care of a baby.

I guess I’ve never seen him in this light.

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

He exhales slowly. “I used to sing Kane to sleep when he was little.”

Something about that statement tugs at my heart, wrapping it in a death grip. When they were subjects, no, prisoners of Demechnef. That’s how he would care for Kane.

“When did you learn you had a beautiful voice?”

“I wouldn’t say beautiful.” He chuckles, looking away in thought. “But when I was three, I decided I wanted to practice and get really good. I wanted to perform at the theater in Chandelier City. I wanted to be the star of their plays.”

“Did you ever get the chance?”

“No. I didn’t.”

Turning my head, I hide the frown pulling at my cheeks. I feel awful for growing up so privileged. And for some reason, I need to know everything. Need to know how he grew up. Need to know if he was happy.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.”

“Do you know why you were taken? How old were you?”

To my left, Niles and Marilynn whisper back and forth. It looks like we aren’t the only ones who are having trouble sleeping. But Dessin is worse. He’s slumped in the dark corner of his cage, brooding, seething, waiting for the morning to come.

“I was six. One winter, I got lost in the North Saphrine Forest trying to hunt while my father was sick. My parents found me in a cave, snuggled by White Venom wolves. They’re native to the Stormsages. Anyway, they’re known for being vicious hunters. Especially in winter. But they saved me, kept me warm, and fed me until my parents found me.”

I blow out a breath. “That’s so sweet.”

“After that, I started venturing out to the forests more often. I’d make friends with a lot of the animals. Talk to them because I didn’t have any friends. And just grew fascinated with them, I guess.” He moves a lock of hair away from Skylenna’s face. “Long and sad story short, my parents were very religious and thought I was some kind of devil. They sold me to Demechnef.”

“For being around the animals?” I balk.

“For talking to them.”

“Could they talk back?”

He laughs. “No. But sometimes they understood me.”

“Then why would Demechnef buy you?”

“Because they’re afraid of the forests. Afraid of the undiscovered species. They saw an opportunity to train me, make a weapon that could control these beasts. Some gentle, some malicious.”

“That must have been horrible for someone who loved those creatures so much.” I sigh, leaning against the bars that separate us. My arm brushes his. “They were your friends.”

“It was. But Dessin eventually broke us out, and I was able to go rogue.”

His back straightens enough to tell me he isn’t exactly happy talking about this part of his life. I don’t blame him. If my parents sold me, I wouldn’t be able to talk about it with anyone. The memory would be too painful to revisit.

We spend several minutes listening to the eerie circus music that runs in a never ending, glitchy loop. Cringing as it breaks apart with white noise.

I can’t stop sneaking peeks of Warrose taking care of Skylenna. Why does he have to have this soft side? Why couldn’t he continue to be that graceless brute?

“Are there any animals you don’t like? Any you’re afraid of?” I ask, feeling this tugging need to know more about him.

“Only one, though I’m not sure if it’s a myth or actually exists.” He scratches the facial hair lining his jaw. “A Dralutheran. They’re these ginormous reptilian leviathans. Like mutated basilisks and dragons. They only hunt apex predators but have never actually been seen in combat. Always isolated. But said to be indestructible, the most feared of all beasts.”

I picture the giant monster in my head. “I bet DaiSzek wouldn’t be afraid of it.”

“No, I don’t suppose he’s afraid of much.” Warrose nods in agreement. “But based on mythology, that might be the only being in the world that could truly challenge him and win.”

I go eerily quiet at the idea of DaiSzek losing a battle. Chills prickle over my bare skin. I wish he never said that. It’s a gift to believe DaiSzek is unmatched in every way. I hope he never shares this theory to Dessin or Skylenna.

“Please don’t ever pull the shit she pulled today,” Warrose says under his breath, changing the subject.

“Pull what?”

“Anything out of line. This could have easily been you.”

“It could have been any of us.” I narrow my eyes. “But thank you for pointing out again how much of a weak link I am.” And there’s the tactless moron I know.

He grunts. “That’s not what I’m saying—Skylenna got lucky she figured out how to pull them all into that prison place. We can’t do that. You can’t do that.”

“What’s your point, War-Man?”

“If this was you, bloody and beaten in my arms, I’d never fucking forgive you. Okay?” Anger simmers off his skin like a steady puff of steam.

I scoff. “Fine by me! I’d be unconscious or probably too dead to notice.”

He whips his head in my direction, glaring with brilliant seafoam eyes. His lips part to say something. They shut almost immediately. Open again, then he growls as he turns away.

“Cat got your tongue?” I mock.

He grinds his teeth, looking straight ahead. “You’re so fucking oblivious.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“Annoying.”

“Mhm.”

“Stubborn.”

“Certainly.”

“Entitled.”

“Definitely that.”

“Stunning.”

I open my mouth, but this time I’m the one to slam it shut. My head pivots to look straight ahead. Stunning? I’m almost pissed at the way my stomach flops forward. The way my chest tingles.

Stunning.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asks with a knowing smile in his tone.

“I should try to get some sleep,” I tell him with a fake yawn. Truth is, there’s no way I can sleep with Skylenna like this. I can feel the aches, the throbbing in her bones, the chill resting under her skin from here.

“Good night.”

“Warrose?”

“Yes?”

I sigh, closing my eyes. “You have a beautiful voice.”

Peeking up at him from beneath my lashes, he smiles to himself.

“Thank you, little rebel.”