Sana blinked crust and sunlight out of her eyes. The light reflected back at her, and she winced. “What—” She gathered her senses, noticing the steel that surrounded her. A cage… A sudden jerk sent pain surging through every joint and muscle. She tried to sit up, but a small hand pushed her back down.

“Stay still, Sana. You’ve been beaten pretty badly and need your rest,” Shayla whispered.

Ignoring the suggestion, Sana reached for a steel bar to pull herself up. But heavy iron chains kept her hands together, and she flopped forward, the shackles scraping her wrists.

“What happened?” Sana asked, gritting her teeth.

“We were captured. They… I mean the Chotukhan butchered so many…” Shayla fought tears.

Sana held her hands out. “Help me up.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I want to see what’s going on.”

Shayla and another girl Sana didn’t recognize helped ease her upright. A rush of cold went throughout her body while the world spun. Her fingers tingled with numbness and her ashen skin turned icy and pale. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Shayla chided softly, holding Sana by her arm. “For a minute, we thought you were going to die.”

Sana looked down to see her skirt, moist, red, and sticky. She peeled away the fabric to reveal a slice the length of her hand; the skin parted enough to expose muscle. Flies wasted no time to buzz around and take an interest in the wound and she quickly covered it back up.

A sea of brown and green grass, dotted with shrubs, disappeared into the distant mountains greeted her as she tried to distract herself. The land appeared flat and featureless, with an occasional tree-covered hill.

Ahead and behind stretched columns of soldiers, some riding elks while others marched on foot. There were less Chotukhan than what she remembered. Sana guessed the remaining soldiers either headed to Gathal or stayed behind to gather the spoils… if there was anything left to take. Even from this distance, she could see a column of smoke rising in a cloudless sky.

“How long have we been traveling?” She asked, rubbing her eyes to adjust to the bright sun.

“Since before dawn.”

The position of the sun compared to the distant mountains meant they were deep in Chotukhan territory.

Her focus turned to the several women who shared the cage with her. Shayla sat between Sana and a young girl with blond curly hair. There were two other older women she didn’t recognize and another girl at the far-side of the wagon, slumping forward with dark hair shrouding her face. All had clothes torn to rags, blotched with soil and blood.

Sana looked to Shayla. “Are you hurt?”

“No, my Princess.”

Sana didn’t believe her. Outside, her cousin appeared fine except for a few scratches and bruises, but the hollow gaze in her eyes revealed wounds that cut deeper than flesh.

“What about Chief Tonus and Lady Sil?”

“Dead!” spat the girl at the wagon’s far end. She lifted her head, allowing her hair to part enough to see her face. “The Chotukhan murdered them like animals.”

“Amaya…”

“Don’t.”

Sana looked to Shayla who nodded to the front of the column.

Above the lead wagon rose a tall pike with skewered heads stacked atop each other. They were black with flies, covering the faces that burst into clouds as the wagon shifted on uneven ground. Sana gasped at the grizzly guidon. Their jaws hung low, with sagging cheeks and wide-open eyes, making them appear caught in a perpetual scream. Chief Tonus and Lady Sil were hardly recognizable. But the head below them, with the long-pockmarked face, gave little doubt it was Prince Tonlun.

Sana’s rage boiled. She heard of the Chotukhan and their desire to mount the heads of their victims on the city gates like morbid trophies. The rest get left behind as a warning to other tribes. “Who swung the sword?”

Shayla pointed to the rear of the columns. “I’m guessing, he’s their leader.”

Sana didn’t need to crane her neck to see the massive general riding the biggest elk she thought possible. The sun reflected off his polished Reaper plate armor and mail of interlocking steel rings. Sana thought him a giant of a man, compared to those around him, with a scar across his face that could be seen, even from a distance. Across his back hung a two-handed sword made from the blade of a Reaper. The weapon, still coated in dried blood, looked small enough against the general’s bulk to wield with one hand.

“The Chotukhan soldiers call him General Balon,” Shayla supplied, adverting her eyes.

When he looked their way, Sana didn’t advert her eyes nor show any sign of weakness. She wanted him to see her anger.

Mine. He’s mine to kill.

After hours of agonizing pain with every bump in the road, the caravan lurched to a stop near a shallow stream. The wagon driver, a heavy man with several chins, pulled out a ring full of keys and unlocked the cage. “Out you go.” He shooed them, swinging the gate open. “Feel free to run, if you wish. There’s nothing but flat land and plenty of elk riders to hunt you down. They can use the sport.”

As the others stood, Sana gripped the iron bars to pull herself to her feet. Even with Shayla’s help, she fell on her knees in a pool of her own blood. Pain and dizziness sent her reeling.

“Leave her. She’s already dead—just doesn’t know it yet.”

“No, she’s alive. She needs water and we need to treat her wound and—” Shayla’s words were halted by a slap from the driver’s backhand.

Sana growled.

“If she can’t walk on her own, then she’s no good to us.” He turned and waved down a passing soldier. “Have your men load the dead ones in this wagon. We’ll dump them off in the distance before they start to stink. That’ll keep the wolves and coyotes occupied for the night.”

Sana made another attempt to stand, but lifting her head made the world spin and her leg was useless. She could hear Shayla crying before everything went silent…

*****

Howling woke Sana to a world of black. She pulled her hands to her face, still bound with iron shackles. All she saw was the night sky, speckled with countless stars. Is this death? Am I to meet with my ancestors? But if she were dead, then why would her wrists be bound…

It took a minute for Sana to realize the ground below her was not dirt. She looked aside to see a man’s face glaring back at her with solid white eyes. It was not soil against her back, but bodies. She jerked in horror of the sight and soon the smell of death reached her, yet pain and a spinning world, slammed her back down. She began to cry.

Sana felt her body give up hope. A slow heartbeat and labored breath took over. She was so cold. So numb. The only part of her that remained intact was her mind, filled with anger and hate toward the Chotukhan.

Another howl sounded. This time closer and more sustained. She heard footsteps, the crunching of dry grass. Maybe a dozen or more, coming from all directions. Sana could see their bright yellow eyes and sharp white teeth. There was no mistaking their growl.

Damn the Ancestors—wolves.

The largest of the creatures approached with snarling teeth and head held low. Sana shuffled backwards, slipping on bodies. Dirt and rock passed beneath her, but pain and weakness overtook the ability to move any further. All she could do was wait.

So, this is it.

The wolf that gazed down at her, close enough she could feel its breath. She closed her eyes and thought it fitting that the sigil of her people would be the one to take her to the ancestral realm.

But she felt no bite, only a moist tongue lapping at the cut across her thigh. She opened her eyes to see more wolves approaching and joining their pack leader, licking her wounds with tails swaying side-to-side.

Sana looked up at stars. Over the centuries, few people of the Shankur received gifts from the Ancestors. Her mother shared stories of what felt a lifetime ago.

The wolves scattered as she leaned forward except for the leader. He sat on his haunches, peering into her eyes.

“Thank you, my friend,” she whispered, causing the wolf to tilt his head. “I know what I have to do.”

She scanned the surrounding area that appeared blue beneath the moonlight. There was no telling where she could find water or food in a land so vast and empty. An orange light from a campfire flickered in the distance. No doubt the enemy camp, but she had a better chance of survival there than wandering into the darkness with no direction. I can’t leave Shayla and Amaya behind.

Sana tried to fight through the pain to stand. Just sitting up took the wind out of her. “I’m not going to make it. It’s too far.”

The wolf, still staring at her with bright yellow eyes, responded by nudging her with his nose, giving a low growl.

“Alright, alright. I’ll try again.”

She dragged herself to her knees, but it was too much to handle. As she fell back, the wolf snatched the chain between her shackles and pulled. He growled, sending her upright and standing. Sana swayed, needing a moment to regain her bearings. One step at a time, she walked forward on shuffling feet. Her wolf-friend stayed close, using his head to keep her upright.

The fire grew closer and closer with each step they made until voices of soldiers telling tales echoed through the night’s darkness. Sana stopped, panting, and scratched the wolf behind the ears. “You have my thanks, friend.”

He sat, watching as she completed the final stretch to the camp. He stood and took a step forward when she stumbled.

“Go! Don’t come around here. It’s not safe.”

The wolf glanced back towards his pack and scurried off into the night. Thank you.

Sana felt the heat of the campfires as she shuffled through the soldiers that paid her little attention. At the middle of the camp several women surrounded themselves around a fire, one of which was Shayla. Shayla. I can’t… She stumbled to them, unable to walk a straight line.

“Sana?” Shayla cried out.

Another step, weak and unsure. Keep going.

“Sana! You’re alive!”

Between a breath and the next, Shayla was looking at her in tears while women in chains held down her arms and legs. Shayla slipped a section of tree branch between her teeth and Sana gagged.

“Just relax. You’re bleeding out. We’re going to fix it. Just relax.”

From the corner of her eye, Sana saw an older woman, carrying a steel rod. The tip glowed yellow and bright as the sun.

“No, no, no.”

A hissing sound like sizzling meat followed by the smell of burning flesh hit her before the pain. She screamed.

And screamed.

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