Page 52 of Cursed Shadows

CAMBION

Mortal Realm

I awaken to a pain more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced. My lungs scream in agony with every inhale, and my throat feels raw and dry. My body calls out for water, desperate for relief. My muscles are burning, everything is stiff and difficult to move.

And to think I could be relaxing with a woman or two in Geldinstock…

Fuck Dragan to the fucking hell he should never have escaped.

I blink my eyes open, trying to shake away the patches of blurred vision blocking my view. Large black dots obscure my surroundings, seeming to grow more intense the longer my eyes are open. They bounce with each blink until, finally, I’m able to scrap together an idea of my location.

Since my involuntary initiation into this rag tag crew, I’ve spent more time than I’d like unconscious. I suppose it’s better than being dead, but, as my eyes adjust, I wonder if death isn’t too far behind.

I’m someone’s prisoner—bound to a thick tree. I’m still in the Mortal Plane, I imagine, because I don’t recognize the trees surrounding me. And the colors are much drabber than what I’m accustomed to in the Fae Realm. It’s been a long time since I left my confinement, and the Mortal Realm is a strange world to my foreign eyes.

From the road, I can make out the charred remains of our captors’ wagon. Only, it doesn’t exactly appear to be a wagon, with its steel frame. I’m uncertain what the contraption is—a fact that doesn’t surprise me. Variant disallowed technology within the Fae and Shadow Realms to further Dragan’s and mydiscomfort. Thus, I imagine there are many oddities within the Mortal Realm that will be new to me.

Scattered debris stretches as far as the eye can see. Glancing around myself, I feel my heart drop when I recognize one of the faces.

Anona.

She and her henchmen sit beside a small fire. Their faces, already hideous, are even uglier in their expressions of anger. I’m relieved to see that while I’ve been unconscious, some of my comrades have managed to deal some damage. Anona bears a large scorch mark covering her face and her larger henchman appears exhausted. Their health has taken a hit. But, then again, so has ours.

A few feet in front of me is another tree and from beyond its thick base, I can see Eilish’s legs extended out before her. I’m not the only one watching her—one of Anona’s men stares at her hungrily. Irritation rebels inside me as I realize what this oaf would do to the angel if given the chance.

Just as quickly as the anger hits me, I grow annoyed with myself. Whatever happens to the girl is not my concern. I have no affiliation nor attachment to her. And were I to choose between her head being on the proverbial block or mine, I would choose hers forthwith.

To my left I see three more figures: Dragan, Thoradin, and Baron. All are still. I preserve some small hope that they are still alive, based on the fact that Anona would not have wasted energy in tying a corpse to a tree.

I focus on the binding that anchors me to the tree. The rope is thick, but because I’m able to touch it, I believe I may be able to use my powers of transmutation to undo my restraints.

Closing my eyes, I focus everything within me on the ropes, imagining them lighting up with the power of my magic as invisible hands work to untie them. It takes a great deal moreeffort than when I’m rested, and even though I can feel the heat of my magic working, the rope remains intact.

It must be enchanted.

Bloody fuck.

The more I think on it, the more I realize I should have assumed such would be the case. Anona knows my capabilities and wouldn’t be foolish enough to bind me with ordinary rope.

“They’ll be starting to wake soon.” Her voice carries through the trees until it reaches me. I sit separated from the others, owing to the arrangement of the trees within the camp’s perimeter. I’m the furthest from their base, which is fortuitous as it means I’m far from Anona’s watchful eye.

I have already begun to recover from the poison. While I’ve never personally experiencedMidnight Tearsbefore, based on the pain and exhaustion I feel emanating from every muscle and fiber in my body, I deduce it to be Anona’s weapon of choice.

In my time as a healer, I’ve seen first-hand the work of many foul potions, butMidnight Tearsis one of a kind. Highly illegal, this poison renders its victim entirely immobile, working in a matter of mere seconds. While it doesn’t kill its victim, it does make them a considerably easier target. I certainly feel like an easy target, sprawled out beneath this tree, my muscles screaming for relief.

“Should we redose them?” the tallest of the henchman asks.

“We used the last of theMidnight Tearsgetting them in the truck,” Anona responds. “I wasn’t anticipating any issues.”

I make a mental note of her words, feeling a small sense of relief.

“What about the vampire?” he asks. “He must got lots of poisons in that bag o’ his?”

“A wonderful idea, Dravon,” Anona snaps facetiously, whirling around to glare at him. “Why didn’t I think of that? Maybe because our truck just burned to the ground witheverything in it!” I hear a smack as she hits the fool upside his head.

Dravon raises his hand to rub the affronted area, then reaches behind himself to produce a small, black leather satchel. I recognize it as belonging to Baron.

Anona’s eyes widen, and then her frown shifts until she’s smiling a large, beaming grin at him. “You saved his satchel?” Her voice, sounding raw, is hushed with disbelief. She snatches the bag away from Dravon with the eagerness of an impatient child. I can hear the glass vials clinking against one another as she sifts through the tinctures.She moves closer to the fire to better decipher the labels.

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