Page 10 of Captive

It occurred to her that she could jump.

She looked down, down, down. The height made her dizzy. The fall would kill her, almost definitely. She held a little tighter to the slippery railing.

They were going to kill her. They would probably torture her, if they thought she was a spy. This would be quicker, and it would be on her terms. She wouldn’t be giving people like Zaiur the satisfaction of taking her life.

She looked down at the river for a long time.

“Hurry up,” Zaiur grunted.

Novikke shot him an angry glance, then carefully crept the rest of the way across.

As soon as she stepped off the bridge, Zaiur grabbed her and started tying her hands again. Novikke stood still and let him. She was watching Aruna pad over the sodden slats on the far side of the bridge.

He made it to the halfway point without incident and then started across the narrower section. There was no worry on his face. Novikke got the sense that they’d come this way before. It came as a surprise to all of them when, as he was nearing safety, the joint in the wood beneath his feet fell apart.

Novikke gaped. Zaiur muttered a curse. Aruna scrambled and caught himself on the next section of the railing’s supports. He gave a wordless shout, and Novikke couldn’t tell if it was from surprise or pain. He dangled over the canyon. Novikke saw a flash of the unmistakable bright sanguine of blood. Zaiur dropped the rope he’d been tying her with and started toward the bridge.

Her heart raced. She didn’t wait to see what happened. She turned and ran, throwing the rope aside.

She’d gone four steps before a hand yanked on her jacket and stopped her short. She thrashed, and Zaiur grunted as her elbow and then her foot both hit soft flesh.

But then a hand closed around her wrist and managed to twist her arm behind her back, pushing it at an angle it should never be pushed into. Novikke cried out in pain and went limp. She thought he would stop there. Instead, he pushed harder. Novikke felt something in her shoulder snap. She screamed.

The pain was overwhelming. She was only vaguely aware of him letting go of her. Without him supporting her, she crumpled to the ground, cradling her arm.

For a few seconds, the world disappeared into pain, and when it returned, it was blurry with tears. From the ground where she lay, she looked toward the bridge. Aruna had managed to climb up and was stepping out onto the ground. Novikke squinted at him.

His left arm was covered in blood, which was gushing from a slash on his wrist and dripping to the grass below. He must have cut it on a bit of metal on the bridge. He’d clasped a hand around his upper forearm to stem the blood flow. His jaw was set tightly.

It was not a superficial wound. He could die if they didn’t stop the bleeding soon.

Zaiur dug in a pocket, produced a roll of gauze, and quickly pressed a bundle of it against the cut. The blood soaked through it almost immediately. Evidently, neither of them knew any healing magic.

They’d been speaking in quiet, worried tones. Now their voices grew louder and more sharp as they argued. Novikke watched them dully. Neither of them looked at her. At last Aruna shouted something that made Zaiur stop talking. They both stared at the blood seeping through the gauze, as if at a loss.

Novikke reached into a pocket, wincing as pain lanced through her limp arm. Her fingers closed around a tiny bottle. A part of her still wanted to save it for herself. It could be lifesaving at the right moment. But if Aruna didn’t survive, she might not live long enough for it to matter.

“I have something,” she said softly. They looked up at her. She held out the bottle.

“What is that?” Zaiur said, looking unimpressed and oozing suspicion.

“Wound sealer.” It was not quite an alchemist’s panacea. Those were far beyond what someone with a courier’s salary could afford. Instead, she carried a lesser version of them—a solution that could help close cuts with enchantments for purification and blood clotting. “I would use it quickly,” she said when neither of them came to take it.

Finally, Aruna came to her. He uncorked the bottle and sniffed it. He glanced down at Novikke, suspicious. His face was hard and studiously devoid of feeling, hiding fear. Novikke gave him a small, encouraging nod.

His hand shook as he dumped the contents of the bottle over the heavily bleeding gash. It came out dark and slow, like molasses. He dropped the bottle and watched.

After a long few seconds, the dripping of blood stopped. Then the raw red and white inside the wound slowly darkened with clotted blood, then with new flesh. After a minute, all that remained was a half-healed line, fully sealed over.

Aruna watched it until the healing stopped. He exhaled softly and looked over at Novikke, his expression unreadable. Having averted that crisis, Novikke took a shuddering breath and bent over, shutting her eyes against pain in her arm and shoulder.

???

Hours later, the sun rose. The elves shaded their eyes against the glare. Novikke, who had been shivering, was glad for the heat of it on her skin. She zigged toward shafts of sunlight while the elves zagged to avoid them.

Soon they stopped at an abandoned stone tower built into the side of a hill, which was the first building Novikke had seen since they’d entered the forest. It sent a fresh wave of fear through her. They must have been getting closer to civilization if they were coming upon buildings.

They went inside and into a freezing, dark, stone room inside the hill. They pulled shutters over the windows, blocking out all but the smallest hint of light. It felt, to Novikke, like a tomb.

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