Of Phoenix Tears and Demon Blood

4 - Escape

I was moving. Gently, not particularly fast, but I was moving.

I blinked my eyes open and attempted to reach up and rub the sleep out of my eyes before quickly realizing that my hands were bound. Thick, rough ropes looped around my wrists, tight enough to hurt but not to break my skin.

I was sitting in a carriage; the world spun by outside my window, a blur of green trees and yellowed grass. The seat beneath was plush and almost velvety in appearance and the wood of the carriage was neatly polished. Drapes alongside the windows were fastened back.

I looked up, startled to see a woman and man sitting opposite of me. My hands stopped tugging at the ropes. Both were of sturdy builds, the man's hair was a lighter shade than the woman's. They were dressed in Insurran uniforms, black tunics with far too many buttons that were ironed stiff, along with tightly laced boots and armor that peaked out from beneath their outer layers. Each of them wore a sword fastened to their belts, the tips awkwardly sticking out from their seated positions.

I involuntarily flinched backwards, pressing myself against the carriage wall. My heart pounded. I was taken prisoner by Insurrans. Why? They don't frequently take prisoners. Was it? I quickly shut down that thought, I didn't have the time to entertain fantasies.

I reached out my magic, hunting for the aura of my heartbeat and theirs. I quickly encountered a wall – a towering obstacle that hid my magic within it. I glanced down at myself, scouring my body till I found what I already knew would be there. A necklace sat on my chest – an ugly iron vessel that harbored a ball of glass, and within that, shimmering red sand. Although I knew it was sand from Halyziar's scar, it now seemed eerily similar to the plain of red sand from my dream. Halyziar's sand blocked the wearer from using their magic.

"What are you lookin' at?" The man asked, leering at me. The woman, who was looking out the window, just rolled her eyes in annoyance. He nudged her. "The prisoner's finally awake."

The woman glanced at me, then back out the window. "We still have a while to go."

"Where are you taking me? Why am I here?" I asked, back to straining at the ropes on my wrists. I could only help that it wasn't too noticeable.

The man snorted, "What do you mean why are you here? You're here becau-"

"Hush," the woman interrupted, "don't talk with her. This will all be over soon."

My stomach dropped. They're going to kill me. But why bother taking me prisoner only to kill me. Why not just dispose of me on the battlefield?

My dream echoed through my head – the plain of red sand. The strange creatures – the harpies – that attacked me. My hand moved down to my side where the harpy had scratched me. Although shallow and not very painful, my skin was torn and covered in angry red marks. It couldn't have been real. The image of the man flashed in my head, along with his words.

Then, with a spark of memory, I poked at my thigh where I had been shot by the crossbow. My armor and pants were torn, but the skin was smooth. I exhaled, relieved to feel no pain. I wasn't injured. I shifted in the seat. It was a dream, I assured myself. I'm not a phoenix, that man isn't real, and Ella isn't dead. Ella's fine, everything's okay. I picked at the harpy scratches; I was unable to unroot the tiny seed of doubt.

"We should just get it over with now," the man said. He twitched and turned in his seat.

The woman continued to look out the window. "Wait." She commanded, "We only crossed in Insurran recently. We need to be significantly more east if we want it to look believable. As is, our path towards Azhar isn't as east as we would like, there's no need to worsen the problem."

The man groaned, but sufficiently chided, he was quiet.

My necklace was too small to be pulled over my head, but I could still move my fingers freely. I pulled the ropes harder, my fingers bending around till they hurt in an attempt to untie the knots. They're going to kill me. I didn't entirely understand the logic of it all, but I was certain their plans didn't bode well for me. My skin tore gently at my wrist, but with the rope still undamaged, I was forced to change tactics. I glanced around the carriage, searching for something sharp that I could cut the ropes on. Though nearly polished and well-cared for, the carriage was empty of anything but the people in it. I examined the man and the woman again. Though only lightly armored and at a disadvantage using swords in such a small place, I heavily doubted my ability to best them in combat, especially with my hands tied.

I glanced out the window. The carriage was moving, gently, not particularly fast, but it was moving. I glanced down at my feet – they were untied – then back at the window. It couldn't be this simple, but maybe it's so stupid they didn't think to prevent it.

Without allowing myself another moment to linger in my thoughts, I opened the door and flung myself out of the carriage.

For the briefest of moments, I was suspended midair. Then I hit the ground. The air was instantly knocked out of my lungs, which flared in pain. The impact jarred my body, sending pangs through my joints. Rocks dug in my skin, slicing at my exposed face. I rolled on my back, sucking in a desperate breath of air before lurching upright. Adrenaline quickly muted the pain of my injuries.

Run.

My legs began moving the second I stood. Adrenaline rushed through my body, hiding my scraps and pains. I tore through the grass, long blades whipping at my face, and approached the shadowed edge of the forest.

With the cracking of whips and anxious neighs, the carriage came to a stop. Shouts rose into the air, along with the trample of boots. A bowstring was released and someone cried out in pain. Swords clashed, confirming that fighting had broken out at the carriage. Bootsteps grew louder behind me. Someone panted.

I pumped my legs harder. I stumbled over the uneven, rocky ground. Grass stung my face, but through it I could see as the trees approached, along with their promise of an easier chance to escape my captors.

A hand grabbed my tunic and shoved me to the ground.

I jumped up, only to be knocked down again. The man from the carriage stood over me, his chest heaving and face twisted with anger. He stepped on my chest, pinning me to the ground. My ribs creaked under the force. I squirmed and pounded at his leg, but he drew his sword. The blade danced at my throat and I froze.

His companion, the woman, approached. Through panting breaths, she said, "we're doing it now. We have it. Our soldiers are finishing off the loyal ones. This far east, it'll be harder to make the Oathbreaker believe this was a Tubrian assassination, but the Tubrian weapons should do the trick."

"So I can kill her?" the man asked.

"Do you understand a word I'm saying?" The woman barked, scowling with annoyance, "Yes, you can kill her. But make it look like a proper assassination."

The hilt of a tiny dagger shone from the man's boot that crushed down on my chest. It was all I needed. I grabbed it, and in one swift movement, slashed the tendon on the back of his calf, barely able to reach it with my bound hands. Blood spurted. I gagged as a metallic drop landed in my mouth. He cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground, cradling his leg.

I stood up and sliced at the necklace. In a clatter of snapping metal and shattering glass, it fell to the ground and my magic rushed back to me. I could feel their heartbeats now – fragile glowing forces that practically called out to me. The woman stared at me, frozen in fear, terror etched on her face. I wondered why exactly she was so scared of me, she shouldn't even know what my magic was. It was simply another question that would have to remain unanswered. Her mouth moved, a silent call for help.

I latched onto her heartbeat, allowing my magic to twist and crush it till she collapsed screaming alongside her companion. Let them feel the pain they wanted to inflict on you, said a familiar whisper of evil. I let the pain spread to the man. I watched their writhing bodies for a moment, until I was certain they would think twice before following me. I clumsily sawed off the ropes that bound my hands. Then I vanished into the forest.