Jalice screamed and rushed past the men. She sank to her knees beside Annilasia, noting the fresh scrapes and bruises across the warrior’s skin. A stench rose from the tillishu, and Jalice had to will herself not to gag.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asked.

Mygo quickly joined Jalice and observed Annilasia, smelling much the same as the warrior. “She’s probably exhausted in more ways than one,” he replied. “She needs water and rest.” He wrapped his arms around Annilasia and picked her up.

“And a bath,” Jalice muttered.

She followed him back into the bunker, eyeing the forest. Echoes of the flayers’ shrieks howled in the corners of her mind, filling the silence. She hadn’t heard one in hours, but the sound was hard to forget.

Grateful for its fortified walls, she took relief as the bunker’s iron doors sealed shut behind her. The interior was confined and cluttered with various furnishings—mostly desks and open cabinets lined with shelves. The furniture hosted an array of vials, bottles, scrolls, and strange contraptions. Light burned from a few scattered candles, casting a web of shadows around the peculiar items in the room. A pleasant scent like wildflowers and incense permeated the air.

Among the furnishings were two cots. Mygo strode over to one and gently laid Annilasia on the blankets strewn over it. He straightened some, remaining hunched to avoid the low ceiling as he looked over Annilasia. Jalice stood to the side and kept her distance from the two men who hovered over the collapsed warrior.

Mygo’s companion—who’d introduced himself as Vowt earlier in the night—bounced on the balls of his feet as he handled a flask. He was at least a full head shorter than Jalice, and although she guessed him to be several years younger than herself, there was little doubt he was a fully matured man. Unique features held her attention despite the dim lighting, such as the flat bridge of his nose and the small ears that poked out from his tufts of dark blond hair.

“G-g-give her this.” Vowt handed his companion the flask, and Jalice tensed as Mygo poured its contents past Annilasia’s lips.

“Is she going to heal?” Jalice asked.

“She’s pushed herself hard,” said Mygo. “I think she’ll survive. She doesn’t appear to be sick . . .” His words trailed off. “Where did this come from?” Fresh blood showed on his fingertips. Mygo frowned as he gently rolled Annilasia onto her side.

Jalice gasped when he lifted Annilasia’s cloak to reveal blood pooling in the leather armor.

“We need to remove her clothing,” said Mygo.

“No!” Jalice cried out.

Mygo frowned. “This woman has wounds that could become infected. She has to be treated if she’s going to live.”

Jalice bit her lip. She didn’t like Annilasia. But she knew the tillishu would have wanted a choice as to whether people could operate on her. Jalice slowly nodded approval, and Mygo began his operation.

The wilderman’s hands moved quickly to undo the laces and strings that held the armor and tunic in place. To Jalice’s relief, he kept Annilasia’s front concealed with the unlaced tunic.

The wounds were far worse than anticipated. Down Annilasia’s spine, a long gash served as the source of immense blood. Several other slashes ran over one of her shoulders—obviously inflamed, but not as fresh.

Vowt dashed around the room while he waved his arms frantically. In a matter of seconds, he’d collected a meager amount of supplies. He returned to Annilasia and poured remedy oils over the wounds while Mygo stepped aside.

“Is she going to die?” asked Jalice. She covered her mouth, realizing her care over her captor’s fate extended beyond liberation. A part of her wanted Annilasia to survive.

Mygo shrugged, but he held a concerned look as he watched Vowt work. “Some rest will probably help her. Vowt’s a master chymist. He’ll take care of the wounds.” He bent down and retrieved the satchel that had been wrapped around Annilasia’s shoulder. Lumbering over to collapse into a nearby chair, he rummaged through her bag.

“That’s not yours!” shouted Jalice. “That belongs to her. You can’t just take it and look through it.”

Mygo lifted his head and flashed her a challenging look. “You’re under my roof. I can do whatever in the dark universe I want. I know nothing of her and hardly anything about you, so you’ll forgive me if I quench my curiosity a bit.”

His gaze returned to the satchel as he pulled out a bound book. “This is a strange item to carry.” His eyes widened, and he dropped the book to the ground as he sprang from the chair.

“What trouble have you brought on me?” Mygo demanded.

Jalice’s eyes darted between the book and the towering man. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

He pointed a finger towards the book without taking his eyes off Jalice. “It’s an aethertwister book. Is that what you two are? That kind of filth?”

Jalice shook her head. “No, we’re not. I’ve never seen that book in my life—”

“You’re lying,” Mygo roared. He withdrew his sword. “You said nothing about aether when you spilled out your tale, and neither did your friend over there.”

Jalice glanced at Annilasia as she scrambled for an explanation. She didn’t remember Annilasia having the book when they left the Fortress. Jalice raised her hands, making sure not to startle the man.

“I don’t know why she has that book,” said Jalice. “I don’t know what it’s all about. She and I got separated.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she blinked back tears as she eyed the man’s weapon. Her mind played out the cruel scenario that could unfold if the man overpowered her. Sahruum’s stars, don’t let him hurt me.

Mygo grimaced. His foot shot forward and kicked the book across the room. “I’m going to burn the damn thing. I won’t have aethertwisting under my roof.”

“You can’t—can’t—can’t burn someone else’s stuff!” exclaimed Vowt, throwing his hands up in protest. Jalice jumped at the man’s voice, as she had forgotten he was even there.

“I can do whatever I please,” said Mygo. “I didn’t ask for these women, and I’m not going to tolerate twisting.”

Vowt lifted his chin. He clasped his hands and wrung them together, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. “You—you don’t talk like—like that to me. I’m your friend.”

Mygo’s face softened and he glanced away. “I’m sorry, Vowt.” His eyes darted back to Jalice. The stern tone returned. “But I don’t like what I’ve found. Once your friend wakes up, we’re going to have a talk. And I’m probably going to end up burning that damn book.” He sheathed his sword and mumbled under his breath while eyeing the discarded item as if he expected some horrid occurrence to burst forth from its pages.

Satisfied with his companion’s defused temper, Vowt returned to patting Annilasia’s wounds with a damp cloth.

Jalice exhaled. Mygo’s temper scared her. He may have rescued her from the forest’s dangers, but she knew little about him. If he acted so irate over a book, she worried how he’d react under other pressures. At least Vowt held some sway over his rage.

She glanced at Annilasia. It was somewhat jarring to see the jaded warrior so quiet and relaxed. As Jalice watched the peaceful rise and fall of Annilasia’s chest, she struggled between relief and stress. It was comforting to see a familiar face. But it was Annilasia who had placed her in this mess.

“You said someone like her was after you,” said Mygo as he came up beside Jalice.

She startled at his voice, his eyes heavy on her. She glanced up at him but quickly turned away beneath his overbearing stare. The scar on his face unnerved her, and even hunched over, the man was a good head taller than her. She shifted uncomfortably in place as she observed Annilasia again before nodding at Mygo’s statement.

“You said you were being hunted by Sachem warriors,” Mygo continued. “I wasn’t sure who I was going to find at that fire. I was prepared to . . .” He paused. “But the flayers showed up. Then she gave me a story about trying to help you escape and said you were in danger. Is that true?”

So, Annilasia stuck to her story, even with this stranger? After everything she had endured over the past few days, Jalice wondered if the tillishu’s tale could be true.

“I don’t know anymore,” sighed Jalice.

“But she’s loyal to the Sachem,” said Mygo. “She bears his armor. And you were attacked by other Ikaul warriors.”

“I was. And she was the one who took me.” Jalice closed her eyes to hold back the sudden tears. “I—I can’t talk about this right now.”

“You need to rest,” said Mygo. His interrogative tone disappeared. “I’m sorry for . . . earlier. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I want to sleep in a different room, and I want her with me,” said Jalice as she gestured towards Annilasia. The tillishu wasn’t the most comforting companion, but at least Jalice knew her, and she found Mygo’s current calm unreliable at best.

Mygo stared at her blankly, but after a moment, he shrugged. “I need you to close your eyes while I move some belongings around. This is my house, and there are some things guests are not privy to witnessing. Can you do that?” He waited for her reluctant nod and her compliance.

Jalice heard an iron door open and the heavy thuds of Mygo’s boots on the ground. She fought the urge to look but only succeeded for a few seconds. Hoping the man wasn’t watching her, she opened her eyes slightly and squinted.

Out of the several offshoot rooms with sealed doors that lined the circular wall of the main common area, one had its door open. From her limited vantage point, its space looked as cluttered and disorderly as the rest of the bunker. She watched as Mygo heaved several large pieces of furniture and strange gadgets out of the room and placed them in the sparse walking space.

Next, he strode over to the farthest room and opened its door. Jalice’s breath caught, and she held it in to stifle a horrified gasp. A whiff of odor like death swept into her nostrils.

As Mygo moved the displaced items into this newly revealed chamber, Jalice stared with a growing sense of unease at what her sight afforded her. Hanging on the far wall were various swords and metal utensils, eerily pristine. She could make out half of a wooden table stained with dark red splotches, but it was what lay atop it that horrified her. A dissected creature lay prostrate on its back, the animal’s front limbs dangling over the table’s edges. Its skin had been peeled off around the thorax and rested underneath it like a morbid tablecloth. The creature’s ribcage was sprouted up unnaturally, a jarring confirmation that the creature was indeed dead and had been purposefully tampered with.

The longer she stared, the stronger her conclusion became that what she observed was a flayer. The face and snout, still retained within a layer of skin, defied any recognizable animal of the forest or rivers. At times it struck her as humanoid, yet no amount of torture or disfigurement could produce such an abomination from a person. In addition, it had amassed a size far greater than any human.

Mygo finished moving the last item and slammed the door shut behind him, sealing off the horrid chamber once again. Jalice snapped her eyes shut but peeked out again when confident the man wasn’t looking.

After gathering a bundle of blankets and an already lit candle, he returned to the first room and placed these items inside the empty space he’d created. He then relocated the spare cot before transferring Annilasia to it with surprising gentleness. The tillishu never stirred as Mygo laid her across the cot and covered her with some of the blankets.

Jalice scuttled inside the room, grateful for the privacy. Mygo slammed the door behind her, and the space fell silent.

Annilasia shot up at the sound of the door and gasped. She fumbled with the cloth around her waist, then thrusted a knife into the air and looked to Jalice.

“Where are we?” she asked with heavy breath and wild eyes.

“We’re in a different bunker, with the man who brought you here,” said Jalice.

Annilasia stared blankly for a moment. “Are you hurt at all?”

“I’m alive, but no thanks to you.”

Annilasia appeared unfazed by the insult. “Did he hurt you?”

She can’t be serious. After the way Annilasia had tossed her around, Jalice didn’t think her well-being should concern the warrior.

“Where have you been, Annilasia?” asked Jalice, ignoring the warrior’s question. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Annilasia’s eyes hardened. “I left the bunker to make sure no one had followed us. When I came back, you were gone. What happened after I left?”

“A star-blazing hirishu found me!” yelled Jalice. “I thought he was there to rescue me, but instead he beat me and tried to drag me away into the forest. I barely escaped.”

“What did he look like?”

Jalice blinked. “Why do you care?” She groaned when Annilasia just stared back expectantly. “Tall. Pale skin, but not like mine. Dark hair. He had a tattoo—a bird, maybe a hawk.” She paused in deep thought. “He was hirishu—carried a black halo blade.”

Annilasia nodded. “He’s dead. A flayer got him.”

Jalice’s face went pale. “Vowt told me about those things while Mygo was with you.” Her chest tightened. “You said it killed—”

She wasn’t sure if it was shock over the news, or how nonchalantly Annilasia had delivered it, but something inside Jalice snapped. All her fear, stress, and anger unleashed in a torrent.

“I almost died out there!” she shouted. “You said no one would find me, but someone did. I had to escape a hirishu and wander the forest without food or water. I heard one of those flayers when I was out there. If Mygo hadn’t found me when he did . . .” She choked back a sob.

“Listen, Jalice,” replied Annilasia. “I was just trying to pro—”

“No!” Jalice shouted. “You don’t get to make excuses. You tore me from my home—from my husband. You almost got me killed, and for what? Because of some grudge you have against the Sachem?” Jalice’s cheeks flushed as she wiped away tears. The room remained quiet except for the gentle sound of her breathing as she caught her breath.

“When you remember everything, you’ll know why I did this,” said Annilasia. “You can’t trust the Sachem.”

Jalice balked. “You’re convinced I’d turn on him. What could I possibly be forgetting that would change my mind about him?”

Annilasia remained stoic. “I’ll help you remember everything. Whatever happened at the Black House and what you did to Hydrim must explain all this violence in the tribes.”

The words struck Jalice, although she wasn’t convinced that Annilasia hadn’t said them to assure herself of her own convictions. Unbeckoned visions flashed in Jalice’s mind, but none of them settled enough to provide her clear detail. They seemed more like foggy dreams or emotional impressions. She groaned, closing her eyes and massaging at the dull pain in her temples.

“What are you talking about?” she asked impatiently. “How can I trust you after everything you’ve done?”

Annilasia simply stared at Jalice without answering. “We should rest while we’re in a safe room like this. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” She gestured towards the cot. “You take that. I’m fine on the floor.”

Jalice sighed. “No, you’re hurt. They put some ointment on your back. You should sleep on the cot.”

Annilasia raised an eyebrow, finally registering the implications of the unlaced tunic loosely dangling around her torso and the chest armor on the ground nearby. “What do you mean by they?” She shook her head. “Forget I asked. I don’t feel any pain. In fact, my wounds feel numbed. I suppose that’s thanks to our new companion. Regardless, I’ll be fine on the floor.”

Annilasia stood and headed to the door. She threw down its iron latch before lying down amongst the leftover blankets on the floor. Her back faced Jalice.

For a long while, Jalice laid on the cot and watched Annilasia fall into the rhythmic breathing pattern that indicated sleep. She reflected on the Black House that Annilasia had mentioned, but the images continued to blur in her mind before vanishing altogether.

At the center of Annilasia’s bizarre accusations was the Sachem. Whatever incident had allegedly occurred in the Black House was causing Annilasia to doubt the Sachem’s purity and leadership.

Jalice absentmindedly twirled her vow ring around her finger using her thumb while she wished everything could go back to the way it had been. No Ikaul warriors hunting her. No crazed tillishu dragging her around the forest. No flayers stalking her. Just her and her beloved Sachem. He could make this all go away. She just needed to get back to him.

Her heart fluttered as she pictured her husband’s face. Slowly, her thoughts muddled into a safe sleep without threat from shrieking nightmares.

***

Annilasia waited for soft, slowed breathing from the cot. She rolled over and studied Jalice’s face, illuminated by the faint candlelight. When she was sure that the chieftess was indeed asleep, she got up and crept across the room with agile footsteps.

Jalice didn’t stir. Annilasia retrieved the jar of leeches, but then hesitated. Her eyes flickered to the chieftess. There was no telling what would happen to either of them when they entered the Apparition Realm.

It was even possible they might not return.

Still, Annilasia needed Jalice to remember what had happened. Perhaps then the chieftess would cooperate. Annilasia maintained the foreboding sense that Jalice knew something important enough to topple the Sachem.

Annilasia removed the jar’s top and tipped it so the liquid poured into her hand. The first leech tumbled out, followed quickly by the other, both writhing and slithering across her slippery palm. The jar’s liquid dribbled between her fingers.

Knowing she needed to act fast, Annilasia placed one on Jalice’s arm. She cringed when the parasite latched into the sleeping woman’s skin with hungry abandon. A sharp prick quickly stole her attention. She glanced down to find the other leech flapping ecstatically as it sank its fangs into her palm. Annilasia took a deep breath.

Sahruum’s spit and Dardajah’s laugh, I’d better come back from this.

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