A Deadly Bite

10.1 || A Story

Mira guides us straight across the barren, grey wasteland, veering away from the path I tread with Jaci. It involves picking our way between rotting beams, sickly tufts of grass tickling my shins, though I do my best not to look too closely at any of it. I've seen my fill. The knot of nausea buried in my stomach forces me to give in to selfish avoidance.

Even if I wanted to linger, Fiesi's hand remains clamped around mine, dragging me forwards with gentle yet persistent force. My fingers are starting to itch with discomfort. I'd ask him to let go, but I can't seem to find the strength. I'm desperate to help him, to see him happy and okay again, and if my touch provides some aid then I should be willing to lend it. At least the water soaked into the leather of my glove has finally dried.

As we reach the corner of present Aorila, I expect us to turn sharply right and delve back into the streets, but instead Mira pauses at the edge of the forest, her pink eyes flashing our way. She jerks her head in beckoning and continues beyond the treeline, the shadows of branches washing over her scarred flank. A sudden flood of uncertainty stutters my steps. Toes wriggling within the confines of my boots, I look to Fiesi.

He's staring after the wolf, confusion written plainly into his face. I nudge him. "What is she saying?"

"Honestly, I haven't got a clue." With a sighed laugh, he shakes his head. "I used to be so ignorant in all of this. I miss it. Everything's so complicated now."

A soft smile sits on my lips. "I know what you mean."

He shoots me an amused glance. "We really ruined each other's lives, huh?" His breath hitches at the end of the question, his grip tightening on my hand as he winces. "We best hurry. Mira's starting to nag me more than Rigel did."

I'm forced to break into a half-jog as we start into the undergrowth, hopping over brambles and stumbling around tree roots to prevent myself tripping. Fiesi is doing his best, but he's not a great deal of help when it comes to keeping my balance. I eventually have to yank my hand free of his grasp to maintain my footing.

The breeze in the shade here blows cool, too, rustling the leaves in a chilling breath. I try to stifle a shiver. A longing thread of thought drifts to my father's purple cloak, and I curl my fists, biting my teeth together. I'd rather be cold than bear the weight of that undeserved name.

"We're getting pretty close to the barrier," Fiesi mutters, the lightest touch of anxiety prodding at his voice. He tosses a glance over his shoulder, then at Mira. "I think I'd prefer--oh, right."

My attention settles on what he sees a split second later. A log cabin nestles amongst the bushes before us, wilting vines crawling up its creaking sides, scorch marks smudging the wood in intermittent bursts that mirror the death-marked hilt of my dagger. Unbidden, I run my thumb over the underside of my ribs, brushing the surface of that empty space. Its ache has turned dull, pulsing as if it resonates with the atmosphere of this whispering corner of the woods.

"We're here," Fiesi announces, his baffled, questioning demeanour ripping away any of the usual theatrics he might have made use of. When I glance his way, I catch sight of the azure flames that have climbed free of the folds of his cloak, somewhat absentminded in the way they lick tentatively at the air. They spin over the back of his hand as he stretches it out in the direction of the cabin. "Shall we?"

"What is this?" I ask, hearing my own breathless intrigue. "Does someone live here?"

Mira sits down beside the cabin's door, scratching at her ears with a hind paw. Her gaze bores into me, even as Fiesi rushes to answer. "Apparently. Mira seems to think there's someone waiting to meet us inside." He tips me a grin. "Or, well, you, but I get to be your chaperone. You want to go in first?"