Reckless

Chapter 7 Part 2

April 1692, NEW WORLD

Character POV: Roxanne

We can hear the terrified screams mounting ahead of us, the shouts of angry men. My heart is a hammer beating against my ribcage as my breathing quickens. I clench and unclench my hands, trying to work out some of that anxiety before I head into this mini-warzone, but I feel the sweat coating my hands, revealing exactly how poorly this is affecting me. Quickly, as if I can deny my way out of having another episode, I wipe my hands off on the folds of my dress.

Ariadne grabs my arm, gently, turning me towards mer. Her violet eyes scan me as she says, "This was your idea, but you do not need to go in there. Knowing your limits is a good thing, okay? You helped me find these pricks, and I can take it from here. There's no shame in not going in there when your head is all messed up and you're more likely to get us both killed than to walk out. And I like being alive-yet-not." She winks at me, the act slicing through the nerves and making my shoulder unbunch ever so slightly. She adds in a quieter tone, "I also would like it if you didn't die this sort of death." Because we're warriors, and this sort of death pales in comparison to the one we're owed on the battlefield. And maybe I'm just kidding myself, but I could swear that her grip on my wrist tightens, telling me that she doesn't want me to die no matter what. Or maybe I'm just reading into things too much, too desperate for a connection in the shifting sea of eternity that I'm latching onto her mistakenly.

The thought of Ariadne going in there alone after all of the times that she came to save me, of her possibly being ambused and staked through the heart. . . My magic stirs in response, angry and restless, pushing the fear aside like it was nothing to begin with. I brush her hand off of me as I straighten up and say, "No, I'm coming with you. We came here to do a job, and we're going to do it. We're wasting time and people are dying. Let's just get in there and get this over with."

She doesn't question me or try to order me to stay behind. Instead, she summons the thick mist that has one of the men shouting out, "Where did this come from? T'was clear but a moment ago!" She smiles brightly, her eyes turning red as the bloodlust takes control of her. "This is going to be messy, but so, so fun." The mist engulfs her, like we planned, and she will lead the way in. While she's doing this with me, Zebulun will be taking control over the leadership duties of the vampires. He didn't say anything for or against the plan or Ariadne's involvement in this quest of mine, but perhaps he didn't think it appropriate to question his leader in front of an outsider.

I walk through the mist, using magic to shift my gaze and allow myself the vision of a wolf, able to see through the darkness of night. I deftly step over sticks and twigs, avoiding crunching them beneath my shoes and giving away that someone else is here. Hidden in the mists, I can see the men and what they're doing without them seeing me. Pyres are set up, but the women on these pyres are naked, long hair hanging down their bodies as they hiss at the men. The women who are clothed are pleading, shaking with terror, being driven towards the lake where I can make out the floating body of one unlucky woman.

The two other men, not currently strapping people to pyres or leading them to be drowned, are peering into the darkness, torches lifted as they squint their eyes and try to detect whether or not something is out there. I catch a glimpse of a couple of women pointing and shouting at the helpless ones as they're led into the water, skirts darkening as they grow damp. It turns my stomach, to see women so caught up in the patriarchal lies of men that they will cheer on the killing of other women.

Suddenly, one of the torches of the men goes out. I hear a muffled thud as his body hits the ground, see the other man turn towards the sound and shout, "Jedidiah!" before rushing to his friend's aid. He falls back, his rear end hitting the ground as he scrabbles back, the torch flying from his hand and starting to fizzle out upon contact with the cold ground as he beholds what is before him.