Colour drains from Andi’s face; her eyes fixated on her stalker. I slice through another soldier, swinging my sword madly, taking down as many zombies as I can to get to her.
I scream her name, in the same instant the Majos grabs her by the throat, her blanched face slowly turns a deep shade of purple, her eyes bulging out of her face. Andi fights back to no avail, each movement uses up what little energy she has left. The fire surrounding them rages, growing brighter, hotter, obscuring them from view.
A light beams from the centre of the fire ring, bounding in all directions, blinding all of us, the fire reaching new heights and bursting across the clearing. I dive to the ground, hiding for cover, shielding my face.
When the light fades, I struggle to my feet, choking on smoke. The once riddled field is now empty, the soldiers either havingdisappeared or been incinerated, more likely. The others cough, wafting away the smoke. I take off running into the charred circle, and Andi is gone, along with the Majos.
No, this can’t be happening.
I scour the ground, pulling and digging at the earth, searching all around me. She can’t have vanished into thin air, it’s not possible. My throat burns, screaming her name, she has to be around here somewhere. She could have run to the woods, or further down the field, but she has to be here. Alive.
“Where is she?” I scream at the others. “Find her.” Everyone rushes in different directions, shouting her name, looking for clues as to where she could have gone, but come up empty. Caelan walks towards me, resting his hands on my shoulders.
“She’s not here, Wyatt.”
Falling to my knees, I scream with everything I have. No, this can’t be happening. I refuse to believe it, I had her back, how in the veils do I keep losing them?
This is my fault. I should have been more prepared. I should have gone over every possibility in my head. Got the damn priest from Yiren myself, so she didn’t have to leave the safety of Nu’cov.
The others sit on the cold ground. Can they really give up so easily? It’s unacceptable. I keep shouting her name, the only reply being the bird’s cawing overhead.
Sitting with my head in my hands, trying to hide my shame, I grip my hair with my hands, pulling at the roots. My bow and quiver are resting at my feet, filled with the salvaged arrows, less than half of what I left with.
“What do we do now?” Arel asks behind me, but I can’t think, let alone answer. I have no plan, nothing.
“We go home. Re-group. Then we find answers,” Caelan answers, his voice sorrowful and defeated.
Solemnly, we plod back to Nu’cov, camping when we should be looking for her. Nights spent with incessant small talk and Arel trying to lighten the mood. But nothing will help, not until we find out who took her and why.
Most of the Unbound have retired to the tents to escape the elements, except a few that huddle around the fire trying to keep warm from the icy rain that is pelting from the sky. I stare into the fire, looking for answers in the flame, but find nothing except my shame and shortcomings. The others sit passing a bottle between them,with hoods pulled tight over their heads.
Except for me, I let the rain wash over me, numbing my body, drowning out the image of her face. The panic in her eyes, frozen in fear, with his hand around her throat. Is she alive? She has to be. But the image of her pale face, a deathly shade of blue, never leaves my mind.
“Weak, useless, pathetic,” a hoarse voice whispers in my ear. I spin around, but there’s no one there. Arel passes me the bottle, and I drown my self-pity.
“It’s your fault,” the wind whispers again, this time, louder and clearer.
Jumping to my feet, the others grab their weapons, poised to strike the unseen threat. An old woman skulks out of the shadows, leaning on a rickety walking stick, lifting her head, the shadows cling to her body. It takes me a moment to recognise her: the witch from Andi’s house. She prowls closer, her eyes boring into me, causing me to shrink into myself, as she gorges on my fears and worst nightmares.
The Unbound gather behind me, weapons drawn, but I hold my hand up, telling them to wait. “What do you want?”
Arel leans in closer to me, “Friend of yours?” I shake my head, waiting for her to answer. Why show up now, to torment me, make me feel worse than I already do?
“Should have kept a better eye on her.” Her snake eyes follow me with each step. “Now she’s with him.”
“Who’s she with? Stop playing games and tell us,” Ronan yells at her, swinging his Katanas in hand, irritation and fury radiating from him.
“Tsk, Tsk. Impatient, aren’t we?” She smirks, pacing around us, her torn cloak floating behind her. “Where was that fire when the Majos held her throat?” Heads lower to the ground in disgrace, knowing what she says is true. The Majos never should have gotten close to her.
“He was indestructible. What did you expect us to do? Weapons and magic had no effect,” Arel shouts over to her, his sword loose in his hand.
Caelan walks in front, shielding us from her stench as she inches closer.“What would you have us do? Who took her?”Calean says.
Holding her hands out by the fire, the flames roar in the air. Images appear; a white wolf locked up in a camp surrounded by brutes. The wolf howls into the night, clawing and biting the bars of her cage, while men toss bottles, making the wolf flinch. I hear a growl beside me. The image distorts into a cave, with a brown leather book on a lectern, rapidly switching to a large throne room, decorated with gold and gemstones. A man slumps on a large, elaborately carved chair, smirking at us. The lavish style of the room could belong to no one other than Adrian.
Beside me, someone whispers, “Son of a bitch.” Confirming who I thought it was.
“So, there you have it.”