Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Thirty | Killian

It was so early that the birds hadn't begun to sing their morning song yet. The sun wasn't visible, not even the faint rays of the rising dawn. Crickets still chirped in the long grasses of the outstretched field, bordered by two forests. It was too dark to see what was beyond, Killian didn't really want to find out. It was too dark to stray from the large group Stephan had brought along, all had their weapons at the ready. He was sitting in front of Stephan on top of Midnight, like usual. He silently thanked his captor for not making him walk again, he was too weak to handle that.

The mare's hooves made a satisfying thump on the damp soil, splashing through the mud puddles and traversing through the raging storm. The wind was nearly overbearing, Killian wondered if he'd be swept off of the horse's back or not. His once sort--now long--curls blew into his face, obstructing whatever vision he had left. The only things he could make out were blurred shadows and murky flashes of lightning in the distance. The rumbling thunder was deafening, a crescendo of bellowing crashes that rattled his bones.

With the sun still tucked away, the droplets falling constantly and soaking him down were freezing, a chill raised goosebumps on his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck. The only part of him that was warm was his sickly eyes and shredded arm, which he held up close to his chest. Jasper's jacket was good at keeping the rain out, but not perfect. For once, he felt safer around Stephan than he would anywhere else. Not because of the storm, but because of The Mistress' withering glare shot directly towards him. He met her eyes bravely--or at least, tried to. He couldn't see where they were.

"You never said you were bringing along a half-drowned rat!" The Mistress yelled over the tumultuous racket, which involved both The Silence and Reaper's that had been brought along.

"Stay." Killian jumped when Stephan murmured in his ear. The other man's breath caressed his cheek and neck, forcing a shudder to rippled through his muscles. He did as his captor said, happily. Until the man tapped his leg for him to get down off of Midnight's back and handed t he reigns to Lennox. Reluctantly, he followed the tyrant's demands. What else can I do? He thought helplessly.

Standing among the Reapers was nothing short of uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how many people Stephan brought along, he didn't bother to count. That would only make him more anxious, if the hounds straining on their leashes and barking like mad hadn't already done that. He was suddenly reminded why he didn't like animals. The sharp teeth, dark glittering eyes, unpredictable behavior, loud sounds...he jolted when one of the dogs--a massive bloodhound--strained on its leash and started snapping its jaws. They were trained to hunt and run down prey so its handler could kill it.

The tension in the air simmered like a stick of dynamite, ready to burn away and explode into chaos. Killian held the sleeve of Jasper's jacket up to his lips and bit down on the fabric, grinding it carefully between his teeth. It was a habit he'd picked up, one that often got him either odd or sympathetic looks. Maybe it was anxiety-driven, maybe it was hunger-driven, either way it wasn't pleasant. All eyes were on Stephan--even the eyes of The Silence--as he slowly closed the gap between the two patrols and met The Mistress halfway. His monstrous, deep voice wasn't hard to hear over the weather. "I never intended on going back to the main camp so soon. It only made sense for me to bring my companion along then. Tell me Thalia, do you not plan ahead?"

Killian watched carefully as Stephan's arms crossed, it was a deceptive ploy he easily recognized. Not many people knew just how quick that man was, some could think that a giant would be slow to draw his weapons but no. In a single, seemingly malevolent turn of body language, he was closer to drawing the polearm at his back than ever before. Right beneath The Mistress' nose. The woman's expression changed, but he couldn't quite make it out. "If I didn't, we wouldn't be here."