Enemies

Chapter 1

I creep forward, blade in hand, preparing to spring. The air is autumnal, chilly cold, and the leaves crunch under my feet.

Curse those leaves. So noisy.

It has been a few days since the last Memory. My hunts have been clean, perfect. I’m once again ready for my mission. And I’m getting close. His scent is in my nose, but my head is frozen, calculating. I’m once again a Huntress.

A few more steps, hands steady, eyes ahead, ears alert, bow taut. Turn exactly ninety degrees, and rise, noiseless. You’re too close, but it doesn’t matter. The arrow will pierce, just the same. The arrow, you can trust. Listen to your prey breathe, his heart beat, knowing you have the power to snuff that out, feeling the thrill of using that power. Draw-

“Thanatos.” A whispered, familiar voice. I hestitate for a quarter of a second.

Just a quarter of a second.

Too late. The moment passes, someone’s arms lock around me, binding my arms, my feet with cold chains. Another one blindfolds me, and I hiss, screaming in humiliated frustration. Then I can feel a bag drop over me, one of the Tesze thugs hoisting me up onto his shoulders, missing no opportunity to paw at me. I screamed, kicked and punched, but it was a no go. They had me.

They started to walk, the guy digging his fingers into my waist, laughing.They were all laughing.

Stupid Teszes. Someone had given them a cloaking spell. I scream again, my humiliation turning into rage. I HATE YOU!!!!!!

I hear footsteps in the wrong direction, pounding a different rythm on the earth. I know no one is coming to rescue me, because the laughing hasn’t stopped. My throat constricts as I deduce who it is, and I fight with renewed effort. The man curses, groping at me again. With every ounce of strength I have I fight to get away. Hands that are no longer of just one man grip me with inhuman strength. I bend over, but they’re everywhere now, bruising, hurting.

I hear a quiet, authoriative voice among the din. “Give her to me.”

Roughly I am picked up, placed in his arms.

I go tense.

My head is no longer ice, and I struggle to make it so again, to keep my heart in the cold.

 Immobile as he walks, an arm around my knees and the other behing my back, not putting my head on his shoulder. Refusing to acknowledge his warmth in contrast to the chill in the air, the way he’s so much gentler than his companions, never seeking to touch me any more than he has to. My head swims in raging hate, but that won’t help. I need it cold. Frozen.

 I start to tire, to grow stiff. And still they walk. The hate inside me cools to embers, and I can once again think. I need to loosen these bonds so that as soon as this bag is open, I can escape. But how?

Not now, that’s obvious enough. I can’t move without him noticing. I have to wait until they arrive, or stop for the night.

Stop for the night. The thought sets a deep, unshakable fear in my gut.

But they keep going. It must have been about two hours. When they finally arrive I hear voices, thousands of them. They hoot and cheer, and I realize this must be their fortress. No more slipping away quietly in the night for me. I will have to form  an elaborate escape plan.

Footsteps pound on stone, I hear the rattle of metal on metal, a jangle of keys. A few words exchanged, obvious congratulations offered, but nothing important. The sound of his voice makes red wash across my unseeing eyes.

He sets me down slowly on the stone floor, and lifts the bag off of me. I know it’s him because he’s gentle, quick and efficient. As soon as I can no longer feel the cloth I lunge, swinging at his face with my tied hands and kicking at his knees to take him down as I fall. Maybe I will finish my mission like this, killing the man on the dungeon floor.