Page 14 of Wings of Desire

When my feet touch down on the plush moss, I quickly release Echo and hold her arms, glancing into her terror-filled eyes. “Otoki,find a place to hide. Do not touch theAmae’sil; they will consume you. I will return for you.” The horror I feel at leaving her behind takes hold in my sternum, filling me with utter regret.

“Are you kidding me? You can’t just leave me!” She holds onto my arms, hesitating to let me free.

Shoving her roughly from me, I pin her with a stern look. “Do not argue with me.” Pointing out into the unknown, I snarl, “I will find you. Now run!”

Swiveling around, ignoring the sounds of her tiny feet as she retreats, I resolve myself to my fate. It might be here that I die trying to save her. At least it will be a warrior’s death.

Into the fray

Irun as if my life depends on it, careful not to stray too deep into the twisted labyrinth of the forest. The clash of battle echoes behind me, but I’m powerless to do anything but hide, feeling like a coward.

In moments like this, I curse myself for never learning how to use a gun. Spotting a dead tree that resembles the same kind that the cabin was made from, I remember Xakira’s warning not to touch the Ama-whatsits—the trees. I figure, though, that the dead ones should be safe enough.

Crawling inside of it, my skirts are torn to shreds and moist from the detritus on the ground stick to my legs. I’m praying those owl-like creatures won’t find me here. There was hardly time to take more than a cursory glance at them because Xakiras was always holding me to his chest. They greatly resemble horned owls though they are white with gray tipped wings. Their feet are like birds, and they have large golden eyes.

My heart rackets in my ears as the brutality and violence ricochets through the forest. The blood-curdling screams force my mind to think it’s Xakiras who may be hurt, and I hold my breath, hoping to never hear his voice among them. I breatheeach time I hear a different voice until the next set of screams begins.

Suddenly I hear the breaking of twigs behind me, as someone steps softly nearby. Taking my legs up to my chest, I squeeze myself tighter into the hollow of the tree to appear smaller. A mantra plays in my head begging over and over, “Please don’t find me, please...”

There’s a sound of someone sniffing the air, and a deep hum of a male voice as he circles the area. My armpits begin to sweat, and I feel the perspiration gather in my hairline. In an attempt to remain invisible, I hold my breath just in case the creature can hear my breathing.

Something knocks on the side of the tree—thwack, thwack—before I hear them taunt, “Come out, little morsel...”

Fear courses through my body and I hold my whimper back by pressing my palm to my lips, swallowing down the desire to run from my hiding spot. When I see the bird-like feet come into view, I decide I have no choice but to fight my way out. The creature is covered in leather armor, holding a spear in one hand. As it bends down to investigate, I finally see its face. It’s shocking to see it has deep, curious eyes, a blunt beak nose and sharp teeth.

I gasp, pressing my back against the tree as it peers at me with an unsettling grin across its face.

Its hand reaches out, and I swat it away. “Go fuck yourself.” I retort, my voice trembling.

The creature’s dark chuckle sends a shiver down my spine. Before I can react, its hand clamps onto my arm, dragging me forward. I dig my thighs and feet into the moss, desperately trying to keep it from moving me. I scream and wriggle, trying to free myself from its unyielding grip.

“Do not fight me,” it commands, yanking my arm with one final, brutal pull that sends me tumbling.

I scream and flail, but the owl-man seizes my hair in his hand, hauling me upright. His eyes show no malice, however, just a detached sort of uncertainty about what he intends to do with me now that he has me.

I kick my legs at him, hoping to get a shot in, but he’s far too quick. “Xakiras!” I scream his name, praying he hears me. But there’s a glimmer of hope that he’ll crash through the sky to my rescue.

The owl-man wrenches me upward nose to nose, wrapping his arm around my waist. He grins maliciously, showing me rows of serrated teeth. “Little prey, silence yourself; there is no one coming.”

“Help!”

He strikes me violently across the face, my neck whips sideways with the force of his slap. My skin stings, my eyes water as I sob quietly from the searing pain.

“Silence!”

Bravely, I swallow back my tears, allowing the loud gulp of my throat to be the only sound he hears. I allow the defiance to bloom along with the aching bruise forming on my cheek.

Suddenly, a piercing cry echoes behind us. Metal swings over the owl’s shoulder and I’m drenched in a spray of fresh blood.

“Let her go!” The command is rough, laced with brutality I’ve never heard before. Still, despite the harshness of his tone, I recognize the voice immediately—Xakiras has come to rescue me.

The owl spins his spear with a flick, his focus shifting from his wound to the approaching threat. His gushing blood is far less important than Xakiras’ threat to him.

The owl tosses me to the side without a second thought. As I fall to the ground, my teeth rattle, and my back cracks. The soft moss doesn’t help break my fall in the slightest.

Groaning, I crawl facing the two men as they fight. Xakiras’s shoulder is marred with burns and an arrow is stuck on his left side. It’s still bleeding all over his wings and back. He’s covered in gore from head to toe. Every bit of him is bloodied.

The owl lunges for him, and Xakiras uses his sword to knock him out of the way with one swing. It’s an unfair advantage being a close-ranged fighter while the other uses a bow, but Xakiras waves the owl closer with a satisfied smirk. It’s almost as if he couldn’t care less if he’s run through by the Sagath’s spear. He holds himself with confidence, as though there is nothing to worry about.

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