by Jada Fisher
Ukrah held her breath, waiting to see if just a couple of the guards would head off after the white dragon, or if their bait would be a bit more successful than that. The wait seemed to take an excruciatingly long time, as if the men weren’t quite sure of what they were seeing, but after an eternity, one of them ran down into some rocks and out of sight.
More waiting, but she could tell the cloaked men were just as anxious as she was—albeit for many different reasons.
And then it sounded, a low but resonating horn that reached her ears but wouldn’t travel much beyond the thick trees surrounding them. She didn’t have to wonder what that sound was for, because not too much later, around twenty men in semi-familiar armor began to practically seep from the ground, trickling off into the forest after Sleipffynor.
“That’s good,” the girl murmured beside them. “That’s got to be close to half of them.”
“Half?” Ukrah murmured. “You said there were only a couple of handfuls of them.”
“Is fifty or so not a couple handfuls? Sometimes, it’s hard to tell how many there are. A lot of them come and go.”
Ukrah withheld a groan, knowing it might have given away their position. But she knew why the girl might have been reticent to admit just how many enemies were there. If she told Elspeth that there were fifty or more of them, with more rotating in or out, Ukrah was sure that the dragon rider would never let the girl accompany them back into the makeshift prison.
Admirable, if a bit foolish, but Ukrah felt like that could describe both her and Eist more often than not.
Either way, they kept themselves pressed low to the earth, tucked in between bushes, watching as the witch hunters disappeared beyond the edge of their vision. When the last one vanished from sight, there were only two left, the hoods of their cloaks pushed back as they too watched their companions go.
Two was much more manageable than a dozen, and Ukrah tilted her head back up to Elspeth’s hiding spot. The woman was already on the move, quietly climbing to another tree then lowering herself to the closest rock.
“Do we help her?” the girl whispered, her hand over her mouth and muffling her words so much that Ukrah barely understood them. But she just shook her head. Elspeth would no doubt handle herself, and if she wanted their help for the duo remaining, she would have asked for it.
Sure enough, the woman moved like a shadow, slipping along the plants and rocky footfalls until she was just above one of the men. There was a moment of stillness, and Ukrah had no idea what she was doing, until suddenly the woman dropped down, one arm going around the man’s neck and the other slapping over his mouth.
They both went down, Elspeth on top of the man, but there was hardly any sound. He struggled a moment, but then she grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the side of a rock until he shuddered and stopped fighting.
Ukrah heard the sharp suck of breath from the girl beside her, and she understood. It was strange to see someone that was so often perceived as good, kind, and noble be so brutal, but it was something she was beginning to understand. After all, she’d done some pretty gut-wrenching things herself, but they were almost always to protect someone, to right some wrong.
Hadn’t Elspeth said herself that sometimes there would be a situation where it was either kill or be killed? If Ukrah had the choice, she was pretty sure she would prefer the former.
“What is she doing?”
“Taking his cloak,” Ukrah murmured with a quick glance over the rest of the area. “Even if she already has one down, it won’t matter if the other one spots her before she does anything.”
“Ah.”
And sure enough, the muddy woman took the cloak and put it to the side, then relieved the man of some of his leather armor and the various straps he had for his weapons. Ukrah was always a bit hazy on what those were called in common tongue—she vaguely remembered the things that held swords was called something similar to a scab—but she knew their purpose. It was a bit strange to see Elspeth quickly don everything she could, then straighten and observe her surroundings for the second lookout.
Just in time as well, because the shape of the other guard, barely visible against the trees, finally turned around to return to his post. Thankfully, his comrade’s body was hidden from view, but Elspeth quickly turned away from him, as if examining the opposite thicket of trees. Her gait was different as she ambled forward, and Ukrah guessed that was to appear masculine, more like the man she had incapacitated.
But the remaining scout called out a name and began walking toward her, making Ukrah’s stomach drop. Even if Elspeth pretended that she didn’t hear him and walked away, eventually he would get to the point where he would be able to see his friend’s body.
“Can you believe we got stuck here while they’re out about to get their hands on a piece of history?” Ukrah heard the woman give a noncommittal grunt to accompany her shrug, but the man persisted. “I mean, do you think that really is the white dragon? I know that witch-lover flies around all over trying to enforce their corruption, but it’s hard to believe that she’d be out here alone.”
Another shrug, and Ukrah could tell by the man’s slight shift in posture that he was beginning to grow suspicious. They had moments maybe, and she didn’t miss the small horn that was dangling from his waist. If he sounded it, not only would sect members no doubt pour in from the underground prison, but all those men who had run off to find Sleipffynor would return.
Ukrah’s mind went through almost a dozen different scenarios in less than a blink, turning over what could happen. None of them were very good, and she knew without a doubt the man needed to be stopped before he reached Elspeth.
But her angle was wrong. If she rushed to jump him, he would most definitely see her coming and yell. If she waited for him to walk past her so she could sneak up behind him, he would definitely see the body of his friend. If she laid there… Well, that wasn’t an option at all.
She supposed that the best strategy was a surprise. She carefully patted the ground until she found a pebble that looked like it would make a sharp enough sound. She felt like any movement she made would tip him off to her location, but she hoped their cover was enough to keep him from spotting her while his eyes were on Elspeth’s back.
Then, turning the rock so it was settled properly in her hand, she whipped it as hard as she could toward the edge of the rocks.
It hit true, and the man whipped around, his crossbow raised.
“What was that? Another one of those gill-wrecked critters infesting the caves?”
That seemed to be all Elspeth needed, because she rushed forward, closing in on the man so fast that Ukrah only blinked and the woman was practically on him. Once more, she caught him up in a chokehold, her other hand clapping over his mouth while her foot kicked out the back of his leg.
He didn’t go down as easily as the other one, no doubt because Elspeth didn’t have the same drop on him as she had before, but he couldn’t pull himself out of it either. They struggled, and Ukrah finally popped up to her feet to help.
It turned out the woman didn’t really need it, as she tightened her hold and threw her weight backward, hauling the man off his feet.
Ukrah skidded to a stop, watching with a sort of morbid fascination. She had fought people violently before, and she’d been in plenty of violent fights with her companions. But it was entirely different to stand there, relatively safe, and watch Elspeth make short work of a man with at least fifty pounds and several inches on her.
Ukrah heard soft footsteps and then the girl was beside her, her breath sharp from her mouth.
“You made that look easy,” she whispered as the man stopped struggling and Elspeth shoved him away.
“Considering some of the scrapes I’ve been in, it was. Come now, help me drag them out of sight.”
Ukrah nodded and went about grabbing the boots of the closest one. The girl went to his hands, and they quickly pulled him to the side, throwing sticks and fallen bra
nches over him while Elspeth dealt with the other one.
“Alright then,” the woman said once they were done. “Lead the way in, but be careful. We can’t be sure how many of them are still in here or near the entrance.”
“I doubt there are any,” the girl said, leading them back toward where she said the entrance was. “There are always so many of them dealing with the witches to make sure that none of us escape. I doubt they have any to spare for the upper floor when so many are off chasing your dragon.”
“Good. Let’s hope you’re right.”
The three of them crept forward, and Ukrah was acutely aware of how badly everything would work out for them if they did run across a few of the witch hunters before they were properly disguised. Just like with the lookout approaching Elspeth, all the possibilities flew through her head, one right after the other.
That was a bit stressful.
She tucked that out of her thoughts, however, and forced herself to concentrate on the moment. The girl led them towards the center of the rocks sticking out of the earth, covered in thick foliage. There, tucked between two half-boulders, was a schism in the ground. It wasn’t until they were practically on top of it that she saw the roughly-hewn stairs leading down, made of a combination of wood, dirt, and stone in a way that made them naturally camouflaged. Ukrah wasn’t sure she would have ever spotted them if it wasn’t for the girl’s prior knowledge.
Silently, she led them down, crouched low. Ukrah wasn’t sure what to expect as they went down the sort of hidden staircase, but she was pleased when they ended up on a short landing void of any people.
There were a couple of torches lighting the area, and she spotted another staircase, much more purposefully and traditionally made. But of course, they were ridiculously creaky, and the three of them had to spend far too much time carefully picking a path down, step by step.
It seemed an age until they finally made it to the first level of the cave system. It wasn’t the biggest, but there was a nearly empty weapons rack to one side, a couple of benches around a firepit, a stony ramp in one corner, and two open doorways that led to who-knew-where.
“This way,” the girl murmured, motioning with her hand. “We have to get you out of those clothes.”
“What’s wrong with our clothes?” Ukrah asked as they slipped toward one of the openings.
“You’re dressed too nicely and have Rothaichian armor. Or at least she does. If you want to stick out like a sore thumb, that’s the way to do it.”
Ukrah supposed she hadn’t really thought about that. Back when she was taken as a slave, they didn’t seem to care what any of them were wearing. She remembered several of them being scalded by the sun, even with all the traveling they did at night.
She hadn’t given much thought to what the girl could possibly be leading them to, but she certainly hadn’t expected a large pile of clothing, shoes, and satchels.
“What… What is this?” Elspeth asked, concern lacing her quiet inquiry. Ukrah felt like the woman knew the answer, and that she herself probably knew the answer too, but they were both hoping that the girl would say something, anything, to disprove what they were thinking.
“They say the dead don’t need clothes,” the girl said simply, shrugging as she dug into the pile.
…that was a lot of clothes.
“They…” Elspeth took a deep breath. “I thought they were keeping you here, trying to find something. They’ve been killing you?” Her eyes flicked to the pile. “This many of you? I didn’t see any freshly-dug graves aboveground.”
“They burn us.”
She said it so absently, like she wasn’t even paying attention as she pulled out a worn dress and then a tunic and breeches. Looking them over, she nodded and held them out for the two women to take.
Ukrah specifically tried not to think about the fact that every article of clothing in front of them once belonged to a living, breathing human who had apparently been burned. Her mind flashed back to that night in the desert, the night that started everything. She remembered the fear, the smoke, the air rushing away from her. She remembered begging someone, anyone, to help her, to stop the pain. The incredible heat.
She remembered what it smelled like as she cooked, her skin crackling in the heat.
“Hey, are the two of you alright?”
Naturally, it was Elspeth who recovered first. “Forgive us for being a bit shocked at hearing about the wonton murder of so many people. Wearing the clothes of the dead isn’t exactly…comfortable.”
That was one way to put it.
Ukrah was fine with doing what was needed to survive. In fact, she had done plenty of uncomfortable things to make it through the day in the past. And yet her stomach was still twisting at the idea of putting on the clothes of some witch who had been ruthlessly murdered just for being born a little different. Would her spirit still be there? Lingering in the fibers like so many ghosts? Would her soul sense the disrespect? Would Ukrah be able to stop the boiling, black protectiveness in her from welling up and destroying every single witch hunter they ran into?
Then again, maybe turning all of them to ash would just be fair play.
She shook away that thought as she shucked her clothes off and put on the dress the girl handed to her. It was a bit large, but Elspeth was quickly lacing her up so that it wouldn’t look too conspicuous. Ukrah chose to keep her good boots and hose on, hoping that they wouldn’t give her away, but not wanting to wear any of the simple cloth flats that were tossed in a pile in the corner of the room.
Elspeth changed after her, finger-combing her hair to get some of the mud out, but her tresses were now a shade of light, sandy brown instead of their normal shock-white. It certainly did quite a bit to disguise her appearance, but Ukrah wondered if it was enough to distract from her bright violet eyes.
She supposed that she would find out, one way or another.
Once they were all dressed, Ukrah thought they were ready to go, but then Elspeth held up a finger, picking her belt back up and pulling out several thin blades that the desert girl had no idea were there at all. Expertly, she tucked them into her outfit with deft fingers, hiding them so completely that Ukrah couldn’t tell where they were even though she had watched the woman do it right in front of her.
“Well, that was impressive,” the girl said, letting out a low whistle. “I guess I really am lucky I ran into you.”
For the first time since they had found the young girl, Elspeth flashed a blinding smile. “You have no idea.”
That quick bolt of levity was exactly what the moment needed, breaking Ukrah out of the spiral in her head for just a moment. It was enough, however, and she felt herself slide into the mission.
They were there to save the witches. The young women, the young men, the mothers, the fathers. All of them.
And then, maybe once they managed to get all the information out of the witch hunters who survived the event, she could take out everything she was feeling on whoever remained. Probably wasn’t healthy, but it wasn’t like she was heading toward a long haul anyway. She was a vessel, whatever that meant.
“We just have to get down the ramp without being caught. The area just under here is where they keep a lot of the younger or weaker prisoners. The injured too.”
Ukrah nodded, not wanting to lose the concentration she had. When Elspeth also gave an affirmative signal, they headed back out, checking to make sure that no one has snuck in or up while they were disguising themselves. Thankfully, no witch hunters were there.
In fact, there didn’t seem to be any anywhere. Even with their white-dragon diversion, that was a little nerve-wracking.
But perhaps Ukrah needed to be grateful for that, considering that the stony ramp was possibly in the worst position for any sort of cover as they moved down it. All it would take was one man trying to ascend it and they would be spotted for sure.
So naturally, it was not quick going as they almost crawled down the thing, trying to keep presse
d into where the wall met the jagged floor, in case someone glanced their way. It was uncomfortable and Ukrah felt more than a little silly doing it, but that latent embarrassment faded as a couple dozen heads came into her view.
Witches. They had found them.
Even though she had objectively known she was going to find a whole massive group of scared and hurt people, it was another thing to see them all chained together, not unlike her fellow desert brothers and sisters with the slavers. But instead of being huddled together in a wagon, chained to the floor, the men and women were instead bound to the rocky cave floor, ankles to ankles and…something on their face?
As they moved closed, Ukrah realized that most of them were blindfolded in some way. The thought horrified her. It was one thing to be a prisoner, to be tied up and bound like property, but it was another thing to be denied even sight.
Ukrah wanted to save them all right then and there. To rip their bonds apart and chuck all of them to the freedom of the aboveground. But they had discussed otherwise before they had even started their little rescue mission.
Yes, while there was a good number of witches right in front of them, there were more in lower floors, according to the girl. Not to mention that sending a bunch of the refugees blindly up into the woods ran much too high a risk for the scouts that went after Sleipffynor running into them. Which had plenty of disastrous complications on its own.
So instead, they had to pretend to be prisoners, get down to the lower levels, incapacitate a majority of the witch hunters, then return to the above ground to make sure none of those hunters were returning to hurt anyone.
But even with their plan, the waiting made her chafe. She had done too much waiting when she was a slave, and after so much time with Eist and her friends, she found that she had lost much of her patience for tolerating those who abused others.
They made it down to the bottom of the ramp, and the girl quickly hurried off to one of the chests pressed against the opposite wall. Ukrah wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing until she pulled out a couple lengths of chain with manacles attached to them. Of course, she knew right where they were.