Page 52 of Unbetrothed

“Give her to us.” The voice sounded from ahead on the trail. It had the same tenor as the Chupalma who had spoken before.

“Never.” Zichri’s voice resonated even above my screeching.

Hiss.

Dozens of blurry figures surrounded us. My throat burned. What could I do to help?

“Give up, you useless fool,” a male Chupalma said.

I pulled my lips forward, trying to break the scream. “No!”

It worked. The invisible tentacle loosened its grip. Hadn’t Uncle told us that it couldn’t touch us if we didn’t engage? But he never explained how forceful their prodding would be.

Zichri set me down, and I wobbled to an upright position. A Chupalma woman appeared only an arm’s length away.

Zichri whipped out Milo’s dagger, slicing the translucent body of the Chupalma. But it went through her, doing no damage.

She laughed. “You fool. Iron does not harm us, nor does your punch.”

The ghostly Chupalma gathered close enough to touch, and a sneer covered each of their faces. All of them shone like dull moonlight. They wore the apparel of the people of a bygone era—long, dull-colored robes with ropes about their waists.

The Chupalma woman before me reached with long thin fingers, blackened cuticles, and cracked nails and took hold of my chin. “You will be one of us.” She slid her tongue over her sharp teeth.

Zichri slashed at the Chupalma, attempting to overtake her, and I bit my bottom lip, swallowing the terror gathering within my chest. “Why not take me and be done with it?”

“Say you’ll”—she jerked my chin—“come with me.”

What can I do?My mind filled with the golden glow from the morning I made my oath.

“Saalah kai hizzgezer revato,” I called to the Ancient One. Warmth blossomed on my skin and lit my arms, shining yellow light shone through my sleeves.

Her hand flew back.

Words shifted in my mouth until they spilled off my lips. “Remove these evil creatures from our path that I may fulfill my oath to you.”

The angry flesh on my palm shrank to its regular size, strength filled my legs, and my scratchy throat healed.

The Chupalma stepped off the trail and into the foliage, deep grimaces twisting into position. The one who had touched me opened her mouth to speak, but not a sound came out. Her nose wrinkled in disdain, and when she reached her talon toward me, her body began to quake.

I spun toward Zichri, but the Chupalma had roped vines around his body and tied him to a tree.

CHAPTER 26

THE MOMENTISTEPPEDoff the path, a male Chupalma blocked my way. His pale locks reached his shoulders, and his sneer crinkled across his translucent face. Through his body, I made out a stray ray of light coming through the tree canopy and illuminating a sliver of metal among the foliage—Zichri’s dagger.

Now I had to evade the dozens of Chupalmas and free Zichri. Why hadn’t I included him in using the words of power? I pursed my lips and tried to march around the stubborn Chupalma in front of me.

The dozen other wicked beings stepped back, but not this one. I edged as close as I dared to him.

The stench! Oh my. He smelled of something akin to soiled clothing, manure, and aging algae combined, but with a sharper burn in my nose. How had I not noticed it earlier? My mind must have been gone with fright.

Despite the stench, I ached to get the dagger in my hand, and the Chupalma refused to budge.

I dared a glance at Zichri.

He struggled against the green ropes that held him tethered to the tree. “Get out of here. I’ve been in worse bonds before.” His eyebrows pressed low, and his lips pinched with strain.

A rivulet of sweat moistened my neck. How could he think I’d leave him? I wouldn’t wish the Chupalmas on even the King of Himzo himself, and especially not Zichri.

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