by Amanda Daul
“Arissa?” Trax called back to her. She gritted her teeth and roughly cleared her throat before finally leaving the borstal. The three of them walked a short distance from the building, just out of earshot from the others.
“This was likely an inside hit, somebody who knows the camp well enough to navigate without being caught,” she began, and then motioned behind them to the borstal again. “What about the wardens who are supposed to be guarding the jailhouse at all times? Where were they when the shots were fired?”
“They were my first to question, but they were all at the supply shed at the time. I saw them myself when he was murdered. They said somebody had told them to report there immediately just a few minutes earlier, telling them that one of the leaders had needed them to transport some supplies. Before they could get back to the borstal, the guards were already spreading the news.”
Trax stepped in again. “Who told them to leave their post?”
The Captain spoke completely detached, as if he was reading off the information from a memory card. His heavy eyes were slightly narrowed into a permanent grimace, keeping focus on Arissa and Trax. “Nobody knew exactly. They didn’t see a face, said whoever it was wore a hooded cloak, so they didn’t see anything else, either. One of the men said he thought it sounded like a woman.”
“Arissa is the only woman in the camp and she wasn’t even here. That can’t be right,” Trax intervened immediately.
“That’s what I told him. He insisted, but then the other men both told him he was daft and had imagined it. I believe it’s safe to rule out that possibility.”
“So we have absolutely nothing to go on as to who murdered the prisoner? That’s perfect. And we lost track of the General, too, so we are exactly back to where we started with nothing.”
Even considering the confrontation with Cayl, relocating their camp and the exhausting discussion with Trax that had gone on for hours and had pulled nearly every emotion she had ever felt to the surface, the day before had felt like a sort of break from what was actually happening right now. They had been trailing the General and hunted by soldiers, but for once, she was simply moving again, rather than sitting helpless in this encampment, not knowing what to do. Now she was back again with a murder to solve, the stress of thinking up another plan to find the General again, not to figure out who the Lieutenant even is and track down the sniper who had confronted her at the Governor’s mansion and nearly killed her during her execution. Somehow, during all that, she had to keep her mind from wandering too far back into the night with Trax. Part of her wanted to crawl back to that comfortable place, where she had felt nothing but relief from their life, and stay there.
She was surprised to feel Trax’s hand on her shoulder, rubbing lightly in soothing circles as he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Arissa.”
His words were innocent enough, in the presence of the Captain, but she knew what he was really saying. He was telling her that she wouldn’t have to do everything alone anymore, that he would be there with her. Her lip twitched into a flicker of a smile before she could stop it.
They soon departed from the Captain and suddenly, she felt completely lost within her own camp. It was like she didn’t know what to do first or know where to go. What she needed to do was find someplace secluded that she could clear her mind and think properly because she didn’t have a lot of time to waste.
“Do you trust me?” Trax was suddenly asking beside her, his voice breaking through her troubling thoughts.
She paused, almost afraid to look up at him, but then to both of their astonishment, she replied, perhaps too eagerly, as if to sound convincing. “Yes.”
“Then follow me.”
* * *
Arissa recognized the hillside immediately. It was the path outside of the training fields that she had been admiring the day she refused to meet Trax at his request. After leaving the borstal, he had taken her hand, ignoring the fact that there were dozens of men visible that could see, but he didn’t seem to care. Actually, he seemed more than proud to display the association between them. Arissa didn’t think to even care, she was only paying attention to exactly where he was leading her.
The sloped landscape they were standing on was breathtaking. She had never ventured into the forest on that side of the camp before, but Trax obviously knew it well. Already, the sun was hanging low in the sky, the soothing heat radiating against them, reflecting golden on the flora around them. The space they were standing on was angled downhill towards the sunset, smooth trees and plants dotting the ground around them as they overlooked the sea of treetops below them. The camp was located at the back of a valley, but the path he had led them on had obviously taken them out of the edge of the basin. The last, high knoll they had climbed brought them just high enough to see over the rest of the forest below.
It felt unreal, being so secluded. For once, there were no open roads or gaps between the trees that could give away their position. Nobody could see them from where they stood.
“As nice as this is to look at, what exactly was the point of coming out here?” she asked, the first words spoken between them since leaving the borstal.
“Actually,” he began, reaching back to take her hand again and pull her gently closer to him so that her shoulder was brushing against his chest. “I brought you here to remind you of something I told you a long time ago.”
“What’s that?”
“Instead of focusing on life’s problems every moment of the day, we both need to appreciate and enjoy the moments between the catastrophes. It’s the only thing that reminds us that we’re still human.” His voice was calming, his accent trickling across his words, making them even more enjoyable to hear. “The first night I came to see you in your bunk, I was truthful with my intentions of wanting to become better acquainted. Not necessarily in a romantic sense at the time, but simply more than we had been. Before you had so blatantly ignored my request to meet, I was hoping that I could help you see that. I had planned to bring you here to show you that there can be a break from the catastrophes that never seem to end. You just have to make time to find the moments between them.”
Arissa smiled, letting the effect of his words sink in. “The only problem with that is that we are in the middle of a catastrophe. We should be focusing on figuring out which of our allies is a murderer, don’t you think?”
His grip on her tightened as he slipped his other arm around her torso and held her protectively close. He bent to speak softly next to her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “I think we need to focus on this more right now.”
Normally, she would have felt panicked by the contact, and even though she was currently fighting herself in her mind, she allowed herself to relax against him. She could still feel his breath against the side of her neck and even though he wasn’t advancing, she suddenly became very aware that his softly curved lips were nearly touching her skin. Feeling anxious, she leaned slightly away to signal her intentions of creating at least some personal space. “Maybe for a few minutes.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Arissa insisted they return to the camp after only twenty minutes, the time seeming to flash by in an instant. They didn’t talk deeply or emotional, having moved on from the nostalgic commentary. Now they were back to discussing what had happened at the borstal during their absence. Neither could come up with a logical solution to who would even know who the stranger was, much less their motive to murder him.
When they arrived back in the camp, the daylight was dimming, there were still guards posted erratically around the grounds and the door to her quarters was slightly ajar. Normally, she wouldn’t worry, as any of the leaders or cooks had access to it because a majority of the supplies were also stored there, but given recent events, she was more paranoid than usual. She practically felt her guard being thrown into place immediately as she approached the open door. A moment later, her hand twisted behind her back and grasped the handle of her dagger, holding it defensively stead
y as she reached out to lightly push against the door with her fingertips. Trax stood behind her, just as silent and ready with his own blade in hand.
After Arissa had taken two lithe footsteps through the doorway, she instantly relaxed, breathing a heavy sigh of relief.
Landon stood at the table before them, not entirely aware of them yet. He was studying what looked like the same map they had been using previously to make the places the General may have been. Concentration scored his eyes, his forehead creased in worry. It had not been long since Arissa had seen him, but there was something about him that looked heavy, tired.
She called his name through the room and he turned to eye her, surprised, but meeting her with a quick hug nonetheless. His eyes caught Trax’s and he didn’t say anything to the other man, only nodded once, courteous.
“What are you doing here?” Arissa asked, enthusiastically. Seeing Landon had been a surprise, but an uplifting one, anyway. After going through as many rough spots as they had together, or the exact opposite in some occasions, she still saw him as her protective older brother.
“Whatever I can to help. I’ve been moving around between other towns and here, trying to keep a step ahead of everyone else. The smaller villages are dangerous to even be around since the General pulled out all authority.”
“Where are Yasmine and Ariella?” Arissa felt weird saying the names of his wife and newborn daughter, feeling as if she somehow wasn’t entitled to. She blamed the subconscious ponderings of leaving Cayl and Janelle.
“I’ve been bringing them with me, trying to stay one step ahead of the riots. It’s bad, Arissa.”
She didn’t answer right away, just let her eyes drift down to the map he had been studying. She knew it well, but didn’t immediately understand why Landon had come there to see it. He knew the forests nearly as well as she did, he surely didn’t need help navigating anywhere.
Landon noticed her distraction and answered for her, “I was just looking to see about one area somebody had mentioned. I didn’t recognize it, but it’s not important.” As he spoke, he took the map and folded it back the way it had been. “I have to go. I’ll find you later.”
After he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, Landon hurriedly left the shelter, letting the door close immediately behind him.
Hardly a moment passed before Trax spoke up. “He seemed rather distracted, no?”
Arissa only shrugged, tiredly, but didn’t make it clear that she had been thinking the same thing. Something about the way Landon had acted seemed off, but she was in no condition to start analyzing what was going on in his mind. She wanted to sleep and not think of anything else until the sun rose again and she had to be prepared for a whole new flood of problems.
She told Trax as much, desperately wanting to be alone. He didn’t object, and left as easily as Landon had after bidding her a good night.
Ever since the unexpected development in their relationship, Trax had kept to his word and had done nothing except stand by her. It was comforting to not be alone, but at the same time it was diverting. Since the day they had met, Arissa had not been able to shake the undeniable feeling that something was off about Trax. It was the first reason she had not ever been able to trust him, but now it was like none of that had even happened. Just because he had magically been able to open the door to her emotions that had been locked shut for so long, something had clicked in her and even if she wanted to continue detesting the man and pushing him away...she couldn’t.
It was an entirely new situation, one she certainly never felt with Cayl. She had played her part with him well, feigning desire and adoration for years, and even though she knew he had believed every minute of it until recently, she had never once felt the attraction between them. This heat that was constantly flaring up between her and Trax was completely foreign and if they weren’t facing death every minute of the day, she may even be able to enjoy it.
For now, she didn’t want to think about anything. Quickly and silently, she stripped off her outer layers of heavy clothing, breathing a sigh of relief when the extra weight fell away. Glad to see a fresh basin of water had been brought to the room, she mechanically wiped down her heated skin with a rag lying across the basin. She splashed her face and then leaned against the shelf the bowl was set on, letting the water drip from her face as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A dull headache was beginning to throb at the base of her skull, her eyes burning from lack of sleep.
A minute later, Arissa stripped off the black undershirt she had been wearing beneath her tightly cinched leather jacket and submerged it into the water. Wringing it out a few times before draping it over a chair to dry and moved into the smallest adjoining room where her bunk and few belongings were left. Too tired and tense to even think about food, Arissa paused a moment before sitting on the bed, one hand resting on her hip while the other smoothed across her flat stomach. Her torso had become thinner than usual, even since giving birth to Janelle. Constant traveling and training and stress had likely contributed, leaving very little left around her well-developed muscles.
Through the one, small window, the last rays of sunlight cast shadows throughout the room as Arissa leaned back on the thin mattress, not even bothering to pull back the covers before she drifted to sleep with her hands fisted tightly into the material.
* * *
Daylight had barely broke when Arissa gasped awake, still shaking from the brutal nightmare she had just endured. Not being about to remember exact details of the dream, all she could recall were the faces of all the people she cared about, contorted in pain and fear as the General had stood over them, taunting her that she had lost.
Cold shivers still rocked through her whenever she remembered the images, even after she had exited her quarters. Instead of donning her heavy leather attire again, she had only replaced her shirt with another similar one made of the same dark fabric, the cool air of the early morning helping pull the last haunting threads of memory from her mind. There was no activity on the grounds between the buildings, only the patrols that watched the boundaries that were out of sight from where she stood and perhaps a few small groups at the training fields, also out of view.
As soon as the remaining images from the nightmare were gone, all Arissa could think about was the prisoner who had been murdered. She had turned what the Captain had told her over in her mind countless times and she was still no closer to figuring it out than she was the night before with Trax. She needed to talk to someone herself.
Ignoring the gnawing hunger that was building in her stomach, Arissa set her focus in the direction of the borstal and began briskly walking in the direction. Perhaps talking to the wardens herself would spark a new theory.
When she arrived at the door, there was no sign of anyone. She called out, but no one answered. Before entering the building, Arissa quickly peered around each side of the structure, but saw no one. Figuring they were inside until the sun rose, she took one step through the door into the small and dimly lit building.
She racked her brain for a moment, trying to recall the names of any of the three men who were solely responsible for the borstal. “Fletcher?” No response.
An uneasy sensation swept through Arissa. Instantaneously, she caught a thick, pungent scent after she took several more steps into the door. It smelled remarkably like the oil lanterns they used for light in the other buildings, but it was still too dark to clearly see anything. One of the lamps burned lowly on the table beside her, barely enough to cast a shadow.
Something was wrong, she could feel it. The room she stood in was empty, but the tiny, closed off portion of the room where prisoners were kept was still open from the night before. The muscles in her stomach tightened with apprehension when she clenched her jaw, her eyes warily wide. Her heart began to race faster, her hand reaching back silently to grip the handle of the knife that was not in its usual place on her back. It had left it on the table next to her heavy jacket and cloak and now she was mental
ly cursing herself. She knew better than to go anywhere unarmed.
It felt like a weight smashed into her chest from the shock that jolted through her. She bit back any exclamation of disgust, simply clapping her hand over her mouth immediately and turning away for a moment.
The three men that should be guarding the building were all strewn across the floor where the unknown spy had fallen just the day before. There was no need to check for any sign of life. From the profuse amounts of blood that had drained away from their throats, Arissa knew it was far too late for any of them. The stench of the lamp oil was even stronger in here and suddenly, she realized what she had walked into.
Only a moment later, before she could turn around, the wood and iron door to the cell slammed shut, the quick rattle of a chain securing it from the outside before she could even react.
A dark figure loomed just outside the door, covered in a thick, wavering hood and cloak. When Arissa yelled out, it was as if she had said nothing for as much attention the stranger paid to her. They didn’t bother to run or acknowledge her in any way, just moved quick and numbly away from the door when Arissa threw herself at it. It was already locked solid and through the small gaps between the bars, she could see the figure next to the table that the lamp was resting on. She screamed out again, warning them to stop, but it was as if she wasn’t even there. Whoever had locked her in was smooth and calm. They knew exactly what they were doing.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the hooded person snatched up the burning lantern in both hands and threw it down on the floor as hard and fast as possible.
The glass shattered, scattering along the floor in every direction as a huge burst of flames immediately erupted from the floor. Just as Arissa had suddenly suspected, oil had been spilled all over the floor of both rooms, the fire rapidly following everywhere that the flammable liquid touched. On the other side of the flames, the stranger had disappeared out the door in a haze of smoke and the whirling of the cloak.