Draconess

Chapter 37

It's the next morning, with a strange mist coating the camp and filtering in through to our tent. It looks like a thin smoke, but doesn't smell like it. I'm left hanging in the middle of the velvet red tent, dirty after being used all night by Zar.

I had watched my Warlord wash with a bucket of fresh water, before getting dressed and taking off without a word to me. He was smug though, and happy to have feasted between my legs for so many hours, that much I knew.

I may have enjoyed myself a little too much, as well.

The camp at this moment is now at an early morning meet up to discuss their plans. I note I can't see anyone packing through my slit in the tent, which meant we were steady in this spot for now. I was still determined to run, once I got the chance, I just had to wait for my tongue, my magic and Draconess shifting ability to work once again. I wonder how long the ash of black swan feathers will weaken me, but I hope it's a short hold spell, no longer than 24 hours.

I strain my ears to hear what the camp is discussing. I pick up a word here and there from Zarcar commanding his small battalion. Be vigilant. Careful. It's important to be fearless. Something about scouting. A few murmured, quieter instructions.

Soldiers yell or murmur agreement with my Warlord's commands.

And then, towards the end of the speech, everything changes.

A strange seeping silence runs over the camp. From every soldier and Zarcar, I hear absolutely nothing. Including the absence of any smart words from Lixar. It's like the world has gone dead. I can imagine everyone is forgetting to breathe.

I wait for Andoll, maybe even a hiss from that strange creature?

Still, nothing is uttered.

I look down then and I see steam rising from the earth, the soles of my feet were heating up from it. The hazy film around the camp was not smoke, but steam this whole time? How?

It's starting to thicken, making the air dense and hard to breathe in.

I hear faint whistles, zipping and zinging... simultaneously I hear a loud furious roar from Zarcar to his small camp, "Grab your weapons!" It's unreal, the ferocity and truth of that command. But I knew now, demons were coming and it wasn't practice.

I hear many thuds, a man yelps and another arrows zips its way into the material above my head. One more arrives, a huge spear, smashing into the pillar and breaking apart my chains.

I fall as a thunderous stampede is steadily getting louder and louder, heading for the camp. The ground shakes.

The tent starts to sag and flutter open with the steam filtering in and I try to open my mouth, to seek out a spell from the moon for protection – but I am still mute.

Damn you, Zar!

I want to shift, but I can't shift. I stand up, iron chains tangled on my wrists, the chains long enough and unattached, but they are heavy and will make a lot of noise if I make a dash for the forest.

I look through the flaps and I see the violence of both sides colliding just as I hear a warning.

"Chyronex!" Lixar screams my name from somewhere far away, "Run!"

Okay.

Um. Shit!

I duck out of the slit of the tent as I watch hordes of demons thrashing about as they've already leapt on dead bodies. They're mauling the flesh out of pure blood lust.

The rest of the tents are going up in flames as I skid through the fights, hoping to get past in one piece, the trees weren't too far away. I could make it!