Purpose Kills

Chapter Four

   Desarae gripped the sand in her hands, the tiny grains falling through between her fingers. The scream still ripped from her throat, and then the jinn were upon her. They lashed out with swords and polearms, and she threw herself to the side, rolling down the dune. She threw herself to her feet, unsheathing her sword in one fast, fluid movement. Shouts erupted from the camp behind her, but she didn't risk a glance. A jinn threw itself forward, moving to engage her in a fight. The others started closing in, trying to trap her in a tight circle. She whipped her head around, trying to see a way of escape. There was none, and they finished their circle around her. Then, they began to press forward, causing her body to go taut and her vision to sharpen with the promise of a fight. 

  She skipped backwards, out of the reach of the jinn before her. It stood about three and a half meters tall, ten feet. She slowed her breathing and narrowed her eyes, taking a long breath before charging. The jinn swung at her with a broadsword, and she ducked, grabbing onto the jinn's plated torso and hauling herself up to its shoulder. It shook like a dog, and she jumped from its shoulder onto the shoulder of another. She took out a dagger from her baldric and threw it into the heart of the jinn she had jumped off of. It crumbled, turning to sand and swirling away in the wind. She lopped off the head of the jinn she was standing on and leaped, her feet landing unsteadily in the warm sand. 

  She ran towards the camp, where her men were pouring out. Her night shift was in tatters on her body, her pale skin stark against it. She had a few scrapes already, but she managed to meet up with them. She took a deep breath and turned back to the army of jinn, falling into step with Lyon and Nikolai, who had began running forward with the others. 

  "Twenty-eight of them, tall and broad. Armed with polearms and swords. Aim for the heart or head!" She roared, freeing a few more glittering knives from the baldric across her chest. The moon reflected off the silver, and she glimpsed her tattered reflection in the blade. She tore her gaze away and threw it right into the breastplate of a jinn, where it pierced the weak armor and watched it crumble. It was only replaced by one of its comrades. "Kill them all," She shouted, throwing herself at a jinn in front of her. It wasn't any taller than the one before, and it looked completely normal. Like any other human. A feral sound ripped from her throat as she swung her sword for its head. It ducked out of her path and sent an elbow into her stomach. The air from her lungs left her, and she gasped quietly as she danced out of the way. Her eyes narrowed as her breath slowly came back, and she snarled quietly as she threw herself forward again. This time, she didn't miss. The jinn turned to sand, drifting away on a phantom wind. She grinned to herself as she whirled. 

  It wasn't a fight. Not really. Her legion obliterated the jinn, not without a few injuries to their ranks. She herself had a long, deep scratch down her left calf that would need stitches. She limped away from the group, who were assessing themselves. Some gave her glances, her night shift in tatters over her skin. She frowned and rubbed her arm, looking down at the sand being stained with her blood. When she looked back up, Nikolai was shoving his way towards her, Lyon right behind him. She pursed her lips and kept her face utterly blank at their stormy looks. Their hair was disheveled, and their helmets were tucked under their arms. 

  "What the hell, Desarae!" Nikolai shouted as he reached her, throwing up his hands, "What in the blazes were you thinking? You could've been killed if we hadn't reached you first!" She shrugged, crossing her arms. Lyon just looked away, his jaw set and his expression stormy. 

  "Well, I'm fine," She started, and Nikolai opened his mouth, his dark eyes sharp and roiling. She cut him off, "Look, I'm just going to go back to the camp to get patched up. Make sure everyone makes it back safely," She said curtly, turning her back to them before either could say a word. She limped through the sand, back to her tent. 

  She shoved aside the tent flap and sat heavily onto her bed. She pulled a kit filled with different ointments, a spool of thread and a needle, a couple of potions and elixirs, cloth for bandages, and a bottle of whiskey. She took out the needle and thread, the cloth, and the bottle of whiskey. She popped open the whiskey and took a swig. "Now, this will be fun," she muttered to herself, taking another drink before setting the bottle aside, on her nightstand. She picked up the needle and threaded it, grabbing her pillow and shoving it in her mouth. She bit down on it hard and tensed slight, blood oozing from the wound. She loosened up quickly, shaking her head before beginning to stitch up her leg. She screamed into the pillow. Her jaw began to hurt from clenching it so hard. 

  She continued to sew, her breathing turning ragged and her leg burning with a fiery pain. When she was almost a quarter of the way finished, Nikolai slipped into her tent, quiet as a wraith. He raised an eyebrow at the bottle of whiskey, which she had already downed half of. "You have to alcohol tolerance of a kitten, as I've said, and you shouldn't be stitching yourself back together by yourself," He commented, any of his previous anger towards her gone like the jinn in the wind. She paused and spat out the pillow, panting heavily. 

  "Oh, go to hell, Nikolai," She muttered, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. 

  "Des, let me do it. Then you can get drunk off your ass, and you won't remember a thing in the morning, okay?" He offered softly, tilting his head to one side. She sighed but relented, holding out her leg willingly. "Thank you," he murmured, handing her the bottle of whiskey as he took a stool from the corner of the room and sat in front of her. He took up the needle and began to finish her work quietly. She pursed her lips and bit back a howl of pain. She took a deep drink from the bottle. This was going to be a long, long night, wasn't it?