by B. T. Narro
Effie snatched the potion from the table. “I’m supposed to drink this?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She popped off the lid and took a sniff. It smelled like raspberries. Effie could feel the hot aroma in the back of her throat.
“It’s warm,” she commented.
“I’ve kept it heated with Bastial Energy from my hands.”
“What does the potion really do?” Effie asked.
Steffen used to convince Effie to help him test potions, but that was years ago when she was still dumb enough to believe her safety was his priority. There’d been some incidents…and some dreadful side effects.
The worst was the last time she’d agreed to help Steffen. She had a cold, and Steffen had a recipe he was working on to combat it. His logic seemed sound at the time: Mixing Bastial Energy and some plant Effie couldn’t recall was known to reduce mucus. Also, combining two other plants with Bastial Energy was known to help people sleep. Steffen figured that if the three plants were combined with Bastial Energy to create one potion, it would reduce mucus and help Effie sleep.
Effie ended up breaking her toe in the middle of the night when she stumbled while sleepwalking, slamming her foot into a wall. The worst was Steffen’s response to it all.
“But did the potion reduce your mucus and put you to sleep?” he’d asked without the smallest sign of remorse.
That was one of the few times Effie could remember punching Steffen.
“Do you really want to know what it does?” Brady asked. “I thought you might like surprises.”
Effie did—as long as they didn’t cause a startle.
A new question came to mind, one that Effie needed answering before she could determine if she could trust him or not.
“How did you know where I live?” she asked.
“You’re famous now, Effie Elegin.” His smile grew wider. “I just asked people how to find the cute mage who went to the Slugari colony.”
Effie wanted to roll her eyes, but she just couldn’t do it. She was too flattered and proud.
Unsure what to say, she decided to drink the potion. The red liquid had somewhat of a bite to it, dancing down her throat with playful prickles.
The moment she set the vial back on the table, everything seemed different. She couldn’t figure out what it was at first, just that her vision wasn’t working as it should. Then she looked up at Brady.
He was teleporting!
“How are you doing that?” Effie yelled.
One moment Brady was just in front of her. The next, he was three steps back. There was no transition between the two—he simply appeared in one place and then another. Now he was teleporting all over the room, frozen in place for a heartbeat each time before appearing somewhere else. She never saw him move. She couldn’t even see his mouth changing, though she heard him laughing.
“I’m not teleporting,” he said.
It was too strange for Effie. She felt like shouting but didn’t know what to say.
“Look at your own hand,” Brady said. “Move it in front of your face.”
She did, soon noticing the same jumpy movement that she’d seen from Brady.
She knew that she was swaying her hand back and forth, but she couldn’t see the movement. First her hand was to the left. A blink later, it was to the right.
She jumped when she felt Brady’s hand on her shoulder while he was still standing too far to reach her. A second later, she could see him touching her where she’d already felt it.
“What’s happening?” Effie asked.
But by then, the teleporting had started to die down. She saw some fluid movements now, very little jumpiness.
A breath later, everything was back to normal.
“It stopped,” she told him.
“The potion prevents us from being able to see motion, picking up only one image at a time.”
Effie was no chemist, but even she knew it was rare for a potion that affects one’s body to wear off so quickly. “Not that I wanted it to, but why didn’t it last longer?”
“We’re not sure,” Brady said. “But the popular theory is that our mind is able to adjust to the vision impairment long before the effects of the potion are out of our system.”
I’ve seen Steffen and Gabby play with many different potions, but nothing like this. “Has this potion recently been invented?”
Brady nodded. “One of the chemists on the King’s staff came up with it to help in this war.”
“But how could we ever get an enemy to drink it during a battle?”
Brady’s mouth twisted with a cunning smile. “That’s the best part about it—this potion can be absorbed through the skin.”
“So we’ll drench incoming enemies with it?” Effie asked.
“Perhaps. Who knows what the King or our instructors have in mind. But a few seconds after the substance touches our enemies’ skin, they’ll be completely useless.”
“That’s incredible,” Effie said, looking at the potion in a completely new way, possibly chemists as well.
“You’re incredible.”
Before Effie even realized it, Brady had pressed his lips against hers, placing his palm on her cheek and sliding his fingers under her ear. Somehow her lips started moving with his before a thought crossed her mind.
A moment later, she pulled away. “That’s your line? ‘You’re incredible’?”
He shrugged, his usual smile stuck on his face. “You kissed me so suddenly that first night we met. At least I gave a line.”
He leaned in again as he puckered his lips, but Effie moved her head away. “How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend? Didn’t you see me with Alex?”
“If Alex is the one you were with in the dining hall, then yes, I saw him. I just don’t care if he is or not. You kissed me without knowing if I had someone.”
Effie could feel herself making an annoyed face. “And that was a mistake.”
Brady grabbed her hands. “You’re so beautiful.”
Effie waited, expecting him to say something else. The remark seemed too abrupt to stand on its own, but soon it became clear that was all he wanted to say.
Her heart was rattling around like a loose wheel on a wagon. I wish I wasn’t flattered so easily.
She didn’t understand why she didn’t want to like Brady. But she couldn’t figure that out right now, not while he was using his thumbs to caress her hands, looking at her intently as if he was about to lean down and kiss her again at any moment.
“Thank you,” she said, unsure what else to say, remembering belatedly that she was in her hideous training gown.
Before she could mention something about it, he took her cheek with his hand again and brought his lips toward hers.
Effie wanted to stop him, but she couldn’t come up with a reason. She wanted to kiss him, so what was it? Perhaps he was moving too quickly and she wasn’t ready?
Then she realized it was guilt she was feeling. She’d begun to like Alex, already coming to terms with the idea they would be together in the near future.
But she didn’t have time to think about that now. Brady’s lips were against hers, and the way his mouth moved took her breath. His lips guided the motion of hers with such ease it was as if they were dancing a practiced routine.
It’s just a kiss, Effie told herself as guilty thoughts of Alex crept back into her mind. Just a kiss.
But then Brady pushed his tongue into her mouth.
Effie sucked in air through her nose for a couple breaths as they kissed, and then Brady removed his tongue rather roughly, grabbed her rear with both hands, and jerked her off the ground. He held her legs around his waist and began to carry her down the hall, hoisting her up higher so that he could kiss her as he went.
She pulled away, their lips making a loud smack.
“Where are we going?” Effie asked.
He didn’t answer, moving his lips to her neck as he continued down the hall.
Brady’s lips, t
eeth, and tongue clearly knew what they were doing against her skin, and soon she was trembling from the chills that ran down her body.
She didn’t even notice her eyes had shut until she felt herself falling, bouncing on her own bed. She looked up to find Brady shutting the door to her room, leaving them in near pitch black.
All she could think was that this was happening so fast. Chills were still running down her, but they’d grown hot, burning even.
His hands found her sides, bunching up the fabric of her training gown and then peeling it up far enough to expose her stomach. That’s where he put his mouth, kissing his way up toward her chest.
Then his hands grabbed her breasts.
That’s when she finally knew that she didn’t want this, at least not yet.
“I’m sorry,” she said, removing his hands. “But you have to stop.”
“Too fast?” Brady whispered.
“Too fast,” she agreed.
Effie wanted to push Bastial Energy through her hand to light the room, but she was having trouble focusing. Her breath was heavy, and all her thoughts were colliding. She didn’t want him to go, but part of Effie argued to send him away. It even wanted her to yell at him for making her feel this way. But that part of her always had been this way around Brady.
“I hope you know this isn’t just physical,” Brady said, his tone too serious for her liking. “It hurt when you were gone for so long.”
Now Effie could feel herself rolling her eyes. She was thankful he couldn’t see, as she had no intention of hurting him.
“So this means you and your girlfriend are truly done?” Effie asked instead. It was something she’d been wondering more than she’d ever like to admit.
“Yes, she wants to focus on her training until the war’s over. It’s a good idea, but I can’t focus on anything besides you.”
Before she could tell if she was flattered or skeptical, he crawled on top of her, found her mouth with his, and started kissing her again.
“What do you want to happen with me?” Effie stopped to ask.
“A relationship.”
He answered so quickly, Effie wondered if he somehow had known she would pose that very question. Then it struck her that he was waiting for her to respond. It made her heart flutter with nervousness. He wants an answer now?
The obvious response was that she wasn’t interested in that with him, but she couldn’t be sure that was really the case.
“Give me time to think about that,” she said.
“And in the meantime?” Brady ran his fingertips up her arm.
She didn’t want him to leave…not just yet. She wasn’t about to undress with him, but she certainly liked the soothing rub of his hand as he moved it up toward her shoulders.
“Lean back down here again.”
Chapter 13:
ZETI
Zeti walked toward the western end of the encampment to meet Keenu, the Krepp who offered to kill Paramar. How was she supposed to ignore that? Doing so would make her feel like a traitor.
I should kill Keenu just like I killed Paramar, with an arrow to the heart.
But then what?
I’d really be marked as a traitor, hunted down and killed like they tried to do with brother to me.
Grayol was with her, showing no signs of speaking. Zeti had expected the young Krepp’s excitement to burst and a flood of questions to spill out of him after she told him that he was coming with her to Tenred. But he’d just stared at first, looking as if he didn’t quite understand.
“You don’t want to come?” Zeti had asked.
“No, I do,” Grayol had answered indifferently.
“Then let’s go.”
That was the entire conversation, if it could be called that.
Zeti saw that Keenu was chatting with a wall guard before he turned and locked eyes with her. Then his gaze shifted to Grayol and he scowled, showing a mixture of anger and confusion.
“The Krepp you’re bringing is a child.” Keenu pointed. “Doe approved this?”
All I told Doe was that Grayol was young. “Yes,” Zeti said, noticing three bags at Keenu’s feet. “What’s in those?”
Keenu picked one up and carefully handed it to Zeti. He gave the next to Grayol. “Supplies and food for us,” he said, throwing the third bag over his back. “And messages for the King of Tenred that must be delivered. Carry your bags like I’m carrying this one.”
Keenu came up to Grayol, glaring as if he was about to claw the young Krepp across the face. He ran his finger along the nearly healed cut on Grayol’s stomach. “How’d you get this?”
“A Krepp cut me during a fight,” Grayol answered.
Zeti was glad he didn’t mention that it was her father. The last thing she wanted was Keenu asking either of them personal questions. The less they spoke the better, for every time Keenu opened his mouth, Zeti wanted to stick her knife down his throat.
Keenu wasn’t particularly large for a male Krepp, though she knew him to be skilled with a bow and dagger. The shape of his head was like Zoke’s: short and almost flat on top, but even longer and more pointed than most Krepps.
Other than that, Keenu looked nothing like her brother. His eyes were orange with spots of red, reminding Zeti of some bloody fruits she’d eaten. He had no hair atop his head. And the nostrils above the center of his mouth were small, like that of a child Krepp.
Keenu pulled out the sword from the sheath on Grayol’s belt, holding it up for inspection. “You’d have better luck killing a Human with a sharp stick than this rusted thing.” He tossed it on the ground instead of handing it back to Grayol.
The little Krepp scampered after it, grabbing it before it came to rest on the dirt.
“Stay close and keep your mouth shut,” Keenu said. “Let’s go.” With that, he hopped to grab hold of the wall. He swung his legs over and let himself down on the other side. Zeti followed but stopped to sit on the wall, making sure Grayol could make it up.
He wasn’t tall enough to reach the top of the wall on his own, so she jumped down and boosted him up before Keenu noticed. The wall guard grunted in disapproval but said nothing more.
Soon the three of them were headed west, Keenu walking so quickly that Grayol had to jog to keep up with them.
“It’s about a hundred miles to Tenred,” Keenu said. “Doe wants us to get there as soon as possible so we can figure out why we aren’t receiving any messages from them. Normally, I’d make us walk twenty miles a day, but we have to go slow through some parts because Humans from Kyrro have set up traps and ambush points all throughout Kilmar and Satjen.”
It was somewhat of a relief that Keenu didn’t sound worried. Zeti figured it was from confidence. He was the best scout in the whole army. If anyone could detect a trap, it would be him. Still, some part of Zeti hoped they would be ambushed and Keenu killed. Then she wouldn’t have to do it herself.
“So why this Krepp?” Keenu shoved Grayol just hard enough for him to stumble to his knees, quickly popping back up with a chagrined look at their leader.
So Ruskir won’t hurt him while I’m gone. So he can convince me not to kill you when I can’t stand listening to your voice any longer. Because he’s the only Krepp left who I trust. “He’s good with a map and a sword,” Zeti answered.
At least it wasn’t a complete lie—the little Krepp did have an uncanny sense of direction.
Keenu spit onto Zeti’s path, causing her to step over it as they walked. “I know this land better than any Krepp,” he said, turning his head to glare at Grayol. “You’re just increasing the chances of being caught by Humans—a waste of food as well.”
“He didn’t ask to come,” Zeti said. “I told him to. So if you’re going to be a barshet, then be one to me.”
Her insult made Keenu stop, his face showing shock. “You dare speak to a group leader like that? I could have your tongue ripped out.”
Zeti closed her claws around her dagger. But before she drew it, Keenu s
urprised her with a smile.
“You’re either brave or stupid,” he said. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He continued forward.
I’m both. But Zeti decided not to tell him that. It was something Zoke had told her many times.
Later in the day, Keenu’s focus turned from making comments about Grayol to observing the land. He studied the hills as if they were alive and ready to attack. He stopped to squat, running his fingertips along the dirt. Sometimes he even halted Zeti and Grayol as his head twisted at an awkward angle.
Unable to notice anything herself during these moments, Zeti couldn’t tell whether he was looking or listening.
When the sun was nearly lost behind the jagged Kilmar hills, Zeti started to worry they could be attacked at any moment. She wondered why it hadn’t been a worse fear earlier. Something about the darkness had done it, she convinced herself. We fear what we cannot see when we believe that it can see us.
“Do Humans have good vision?” Zeti asked.
“Yes,” Keenu said. “But we can see better in the dark than they can.”
“How have Krepps been getting ambushed, then?”
“Shut up and let me listen.”
That’s when Zeti finally heard something besides the crunch of dry dirt beneath their bare feet.
“What’s that?” Grayol asked in a whisper.
Keenu used the back of his hand to smack the little Krepp in the forehead. It wasn’t intended to hurt him, as it was far too light for that, though Zeti was sure Keenu would’ve hit him harder if he wasn’t worried Grayol would yelp.
The sound picked up again. It was a shrill noise, melodic.
“Eeeeeeyuuu. Eeeeeeyuuu.”
At first, Zeti thought it was coming from behind her. But when she turned, the noise felt as if it had buzzed by her ear like a fly, making her turn back once more.
She began to feel dizzy trying to pinpoint its exact location, looking instead to Keenu beside her. He had his neck stretched forward, his mouth agape as he strained to listen.
“Eeeeeeyuuu.”
Zeti went for her dagger at first, quickly changing her mind and taking the bow off her shoulder instead.