The Wyvern's Gift

Chapter Ten

Four men emerged from the trees to join the man holding Haelyn in place by her hair. Their faces were covered by dark green masks and every inch of skin stayed covered by either their cloak or their thick leather gloves. The only visible marking was a silver badge on the last man, tucked under the edge of his cloak.

"Drop her," Yophiel ordered. He had fully drawn his sword and wrapped both hands around the hilt. The blade stretched out four feet beyond his hands but Yophiel didn't show any sign of struggling with the weight of it. He'd moved it out of its scabbard as easily as pulling out a tooth pick. The tip pointed directly at the man behind Haelyn.

Further back, Evander was standing over Weylyn who lay unconscious on the ground. One of the branches from Isra's takeoff rested across the man's chest. Evander had given him a cursory glance to assure her was still breathing. There was no blood he could see but the branch had hit him across the chest. He'd seen men at sea hit in much the same way by shattered bits of the railing after a cannonball had gone through. They'd looked fine after the initial hit only to cough up blood hours later.

The short sword in his hand still felt foreign in comparison to his normal cutlass. Unfortunately, most of his gear rested with his sunken ship just off the coast. The grip of his cutlass had practically molded to fit his hand. In all his years on the sea, he'd only let it fall from his hand twice. This sword however, felt stiff as an awkward handshake from a nervous shopkeep.

Two of the men edged around the outside of the clearing. In seconds they were surrounded on all sides. Yophiel kept his sword trained on the man holding Haelyn. The scattering of gems on its hilt peeked between his fingers.

"Drop your weapons," the first man ordered.

Wren, arrow half drawn, looked at Haelyn before slowly lowering his bow. There was no way for any of them to get to her before any of the five men put a knife through her chest. He gestured for Evander to lower his weapon, noticing Weylyn on the floor for the first time. "Yophiel, do as he says," Wren whispered. He dropped his bow to the ground and knelt down. "You can't do anything for her." He reached out to tug the back of the knight's cloak. The tattered edge tore further in his grip and the threads wove between his fingers like Haelyn's hair between the man's gloved fingers.

The greatsword hit the ground loudly. Yophiel's knees followed suit with twin thuds. He looked back at Wren and sighed.

The men swarmed them, clamping muscles around their wrists behind their backs. They corralled the prisoners together around Weylan and took turns setting up camp while watching them.

As soon as they released Haelyn, Wren scooted closer to her. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she answered. A bruise was slowly forming on the right side of her chin and there were scratches and patches of raw skin along her forehead near her scalp. She wouldn't look away from the path of broken branches above them.

"What do you think they want with us?" Evander asked. The manacles didn't bother him much, it wasn't the first time he'd found himself in similar situations.

"They're from Cathia, did you see the silver blue jay pin?" Wren whispered the last bit to Yophiel.

"They're likely the ones who killed the wyverns. That one in the back has a fresh scratch across his left eye," Yophiel noted. He and Wren scooted closer together, whispering plans.

Evander pushed at Weylyn's side with his boot. He groaned a little but otherwise remained unconscious. "You would think they'd at least let us help him."

"Why help the people you plan to kill?" Haelyn asked. Every breeze that moved the leaves set her on edge. "I can't imagine they plan to let us go. I should have just run the second we stepped into the forest."

Evander crossed his legs and leaned forward. "Why didn't you? You're not even planning to go back to living in the city, there's nothing anchoring you there."

Haelyn shrugged and jingled her manacles behind her back. If they'd been ropes she might have had a chance at undoing them. She'd always considered herself an adept knotsman. She curled her knees to the side of her, trying to get more comfortable. "I guess I have some sort of stupid conscience."

"I bet you have a crush on the prince, and you're hoping he'll fall in love with you when you brew up the antidote," Evander teased. "Look at how red you're getting! I'm right, aren't I?"

"Not even close. Never say that again." She uncurled one leg to kick him and felt a pebble smack into her temple.

"Keep it down over there. Don't make me come over and separate you." Haelyn recognized the voice as the man who had grabbed her. There was no mistaking that voice.

They fell silent, the whispers between Wren and Yophiel quiet as a snake through the grass. The men had set up a full camp by now. A small fire burned away in the growing dusk. Haelyn still looked up at the dark sky every time she had a spare moment, which was nearly always. A log popped on the fire and Haelyn felt something smack into her leg.

"I didn't even do anything," she snapped.

"I thought I told you to keep quiet over there."

Haelyn moved to her knees to argue, and the object that had hit her leg flew up and hit her stomach. Her jaw dropped and she looked down at the small metal pin. The tip flashed a dull orange for just a second and Haelyn clamped her legs together to hide it. She looked up at Evander who was watching her with a similar look of surprise.

"I've never used one of those," Haelyn whispered frantically.

"I can manage, I think. Weylyn would have been the better choice but..." he trailed off and nodded at the still unconscious man. "Okay, hand it over."

"And how would you like me to do that?" She shook her cuffed hands to make her point. Her eyes darted side to side and then she suddenly ducked her head down to her lap. It was only a second before she straightened up and took a steadying breath. "Kiss me."

"Gladly, but is now really the time for that?" Evander sputtered.

Haelyn rolled her eyes and waggled the pin between her lips. Understanding flashed in Evander's eyes and he jolted forward to meet her lips. The pin slid easily from her to him and she began to pull back. Evander leaned back into the kiss, urgently passing the pin back to her. She opened her eyes and glared at him after he'd pushed the pin back to her for a third time. Evander tried to point to the side using his eyes.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Weylyn asked groggily.

Haelyn muttered a soft 'oh' with their lips still pressed together. She sighed and twisted to the side, throwing herself at Weylyn. He tumbled back with her on his chest, unable to support them with his hands bound.

By now they'd attracted the attention of Wren and Yophiel. They watched her with wide eyes, even after she'd sat back up with a confident nod.

"What the hell are you doing?" Wren sputtered.

"Try not to be jealous, forest boy. I always get the girls," Weylyn grinned, shrugging his shoulders. They all tensed when the leader stormed over to them.

"I've warned you about being quiet, we're done being nice now," he snapped. He reached for Haelyn and grabbed her by the ankle when she kicked at him. The dagger in his hand flashed in the firelight.

The other men stood, one reached his hand out cautiously. "Now, Kris, you know we need that one alive. Why don't you leave her be?" He shuffled closer, trying to gesture for the knife. "We don't get paid if she's dead."

Kris snarled and dragged Haelyn closer. "Bruised isn't dead."