Page 14 of The Master and the Marionette

“The Nightamous Horde,” Dessin says slowly, still unsure of his discovery.

The woman bows her head. “Descended from Dark Elves, original inhabitants of the Evergreen Dark Wood. You know your bedtime stories.”

Okay, I’m confused.

“And I remember the horror stories that follow your people. What exactly do you want with us?” The unrelenting dominance in Dessin’s voice settles my nerves. He isn’t afraid or threatened.

The woman lifts the hood of her cloak. A pair of sultry black eyes focus on Dessin’s face. Her features are pointed and elegant, but her skin is so white it’s nearly translucent, showcasing the blueish veins under layers of flesh.

The forest seems to grow smaller.

A smile tugs at the corner of her thin peach-colored lips, feline and hungry. A dazzling imitation of friendliness. And there is no shyness in her stance. It’s proud, daring, and coy. She seems, if anything, to enjoy the attention of a man. Especially a man that looks like Dessin.

Annoyance flashes through me like a hot whip of lightning. My fingernails bite into the palms of my hands.

“Your presence in our territory is rare. It makes me wonder, who would dare be so foolish from the inner city?” The woman stays unnaturally still, refusing to come any closer. I’m confident she can sense the essence of death that hangs around Dessin like a storm cloud.

“I’d be foolish to tell you who we are,” Dessin replies.

She licks her lips at his response. Obviously, she wants him and wears that craving around her like a scarf. “Pity.” She traces a strap of leather over her chest, considering something. “How about your age then?”

Age? Isn’t that what the forest man wanted to know?

Dessin’s head tilts to the side. “I am twenty-three, and she is nineteen.” Twenty-three? He had a birthday since he first told me his age months ago and didn’t tell me.

I slash my stare through him like a knife. Why is he telling her anything at all? We don’t know her.

She nods as if something has clicked into place. She chuckles to herself.

“I fought alongside the RottWeilen this morning. We took out a few of Demechnef’s finest.” The woman wipes a bloodied blade over her cloak. “There will be more. I’d think you should like to come with me back to my village for safety until they’re led astray by the shades.”

Shades. Scarlett told me a scary story about them once. Reimagined life forms possessed by evil spirits. They could have once been elves, faeries, dwarves, or any other fictional being.

Does she believe they actually exist?

Dessin looks just as perplexed as I am.

“And why would we trust you?” I ask, finally gathering the courage to speak up.

The woman’s large pupils slide to me, only just realizing I’ve been here all along. She hooks her crooked index finger under a shiny strand of sunless white hair.

“Because, Skylenna. Harming you would interfere with a prophecy I would like to see come to pass.”

5. The Nightamous Horde

I can’t help myself.

The laugh rushes out of me like a deflating balloon.

It’s Dessin’s face. The sudden surprise that the woman knows my name. I’ve been waiting for him to have a taste of his own medicine. His dark-mahogany eyes jolt back to me, offended and fighting to hide the surprise on his face.

“Is that funny to you?” he asks, tone as sharp as a new sword.

I nod.

“And what name should I call you at this moment? I know you have many.” The woman takes a step forward, and Dessin is on his feet.

I stop laughing.

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