Against the Wind

1.3 || Raya

Raya knelt beside the patch of soil Samir had gestured to. Sure enough, there was an obvious gap in the neat rows of the plantation, but not only that: the soil caved inward, too, leaving a mini crater deep enough to spark puzzlement. The strangeness of it stirred in her chest, but it was a welcome distraction from the flashes in her mind and the sickened squirm of her stomach. Maybe there was something to be investigated here.

Sodden dirt pressed against the portion of her dress tucked beneath her knees as she edged closer. She did her best to ignore the wet feel of it and the stains she knew it would leave behind; that was a job for Yasmin to deal with later. For now, she gave in to the unfurling leaves of curiosity.

Her fingertips spun a gentle, dancing circle within the crater before she overcame her foolish reluctance and dug her hand in, raking through the lumps of muck until her entire forearm was sunk into the hole and she finally felt the grittier texture of sand. She withdrew her hand and brushed dirt back in to cover it, then swept the area around it, but came out with the same conclusion. The seed had been taken. And, it seemed, whoever had taken it had scooped up a heaped handful of soil as well.

But who would do such a thing?

Sitting back on her heels, she dusted her hands, feeling the creases of her face ache from the depths of her frown. Thievery was a forgotten, ancient art. It simply didn't happen. Everyone had everything that they needed, and no desire to want for more. Even brushing aside that fact, these pockets of life were sacred. To think of anyone running through the city in the dead of night, soil clamped in their cupped hands, was both ridiculous and downright wrong. And seeds or plants didn't just vanish. No magic could cause something to disappear, accidental or not.

Which left only one culprit. Raya's knee bounced, her poise fraying as the silence around her sunk in. Maybe the lack of expectant stares was better and worse all at once. There was no act to keep up, but it made the nerves rise like a waiting storm, crackling lightning through her until her lungs spasmed.

Beasts.

She sucked in a sharp breath. No. Beasts couldn't possibly have penetrated this far into the city, and if they had, she'd know about it. She gave her head a sharp shake and reached into her pouch. "So I try a spell," she murmured, scolding herself the way her mentor used to when she froze, back when she was an apprentice learning the craft. "I don't flail. I don't panic. I do something I know."

She could search for invisible prints, or lingering scents. Anything the magic would sense. That wasn't too difficult. Focusing hard on the disturbed, empty spot, she let the dust fly.

Hands. It was a fraction of a second, but she was sure she saw hands flicker into place, temporarily burned on the inside of her eyelids when she blinked. It was too short to pick up on any details, but one stuck, held fast.

The hand's fingernails were thick, inhumanely sharp and long. It had claws.

She flinched, her gasp lodging in her throat. Restless energy wriggled in her chest, and she clambered hastily to her feet, though her foot tapped an uneven rhythm. Beasts didn't have hands. Humans didn't have claws. The flickering vision spoke of something in between, and that was far, far worse.

And equally impossible. She shook her head, then again until she dizzied herself, her pacing wild and aimless. Her skirt shivered close to her legs as if even the fabric itself was afraid. If only to make her hands do something, she reached up to fiddle with her high ponytail, loosening it, tightening it, painfully aware of the quiet pooling around her, like it were a bottomless pit of a river slowly dragging her downward until she drowned.

If she were a better mage, there would be a next step. There would be a tracking spell to try, an analysis to perform, a certainty to the answers she got. Failure slithered around every concept, sucking in her stomach until tears pricked at her eyes.

Maybe she should've gone to fight after all.

Or maybe this was still thoughts of the fight toying with her. She gave her ponytail a sharp yank and let it go, fisting her hands at her side instead as she counted her forced inhales, exhales, inhales. It had been such a brief illusion she could've imagined the claws. She would report a stolen plant and leave it at that. Or she wouldn't report it at all. It was such a small thing, and it was so, so silly to stand here choking in a sob like the world was ending. The panic was always false. A mage has no reason to fear.

She shoved air out of her nose and wiped her eyes, straightening. She'd lingered here long enough. She needed to reach her next destination before--

An earth-shattering shriek split the air.

Raya jolted, spine snapping straight. She spun a full circle, hand flinching near to her pouch in readiness for protection, heart thundering in her chest. The loneliness of the empty streets shrank inward, an army of spears pinning her in place.

The scream had been close, and not in the direction of the border tower she'd seen the other mages rushing towards. Its echo rang in her ears, rattled in her skull. Pain laced it.

Maybe it was some ill-advised squeeze of her heart that lured out those few tentative steps, or maybe she simply couldn't stand still, trapped in her failings and her fear, for a moment longer. All she knew was that her feet were dragging her away, and then she was hitching up her skirts and breaking out into a run, leaving the field behind as she snaked between houses. The wobbling curve of the city's edge pressed at the corner of her vision when she finally slowed. Hand resting on the smooth, sand-speckled bricks, she peered around a corner, careful to keep in the shade and out of sight of the guard leaning against the railings atop the wall high above.

Yet the sands beyond the border spread out unceasingly, bobbing up and down into lofty dunes in the distance but entirely empty of life. Confused, she glanced up at the guard. He had his back to the open expanse, picking at something on his sleeve, his expression lazy and bored. Not the look of someone who had just screamed like his life depended on it.

It was then her ears caught the sound of ragged, heavy breathing, cracked as if succumbed to too much of the sun's pressure. Heart seizing in her chest, she turned.

Not beast, not human, but something in between.

Curled up against the wall and covered head to toe in spatters of dark crimson blood was one of the beastfolk.