Page 105 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
A barely audible rustle catches my attention. Small and quick shadows flit between the bedrolls. Goosebumps erupt as I reach for my sword. With practiced stealth, I wake Geraldine and Max.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers, her hand already fumbling for her dagger.
“Intruders.” I nod toward the moving shadows.
We creep forward, the damp earth muffling our footsteps. I make out several small figures rifling through our supplies in the dim starlight. Children—a boy and a girl roughly the same age. They can’t be any older than six or seven. Their ribs are visible through tattered clothes, and their faces are gaunt with hunger.
One spots us, eyes widening in terror. They bolt, racing for the treeline, their feet barely making a sound on the forest floor.
“Wait!” I hiss, but the darkness of the woods swallows them.
Without hesitation, we plunge after them. The forest closes in, the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves filling my nostrils. Branches claw at our faces, roots threatening to trip us at every step. Tiny, ragged breathing echoes ahead, punctuated by soft whimpers of fear.
“We’re not going to hurt you!” I shout, my voice seeming to bounce off the trees.
Geraldine, Max, and I jog together. When we spot dissenters’ symbolic and crude carvings, I give a subtle gesture to my friends, urging them to cover my blind spots while I race ahead, knowing I can move faster. They coordinate silently and split—each moving to an alternative side of my rear.
Suddenly, the trees thin. We burst into a clearing filled with makeshift shelters—little more than piles of branches and tattered cloth. The acrid smell of unwashed bodies mingles with the smoky scent of dying fires. A baby’s weak cry pierces the air, making my heart clench. Gaunt faces peer out at us, eyes hollow with hunger and desperation.
The children we chased tear through the camp, screaming, “Mama! Mama! They found us!”
And there, in the center of it all, is Becky in her exhibitor uniform—the dullest clothing at the Nexus, but here, it’s a luxury. She’s deep in conversation with a haggard-looking man. Her eyes widen as she sees us, weapons in hand. In an instant, she’s handing her children to the man and charging at me, face contorted with rage and fear.
“You won’t take them!” she screams, swinging a crude weapon at my head—a club of dead wood.
I parry with the flat of my blade, the clash cracking through the clearing. “Becky, stop! We’re not here to hurt anyone!”
But she’s beyond listening, attacking with the desperate fury of a cornered animal. Around us, the camp erupts into chaos. Geraldine and Max move in perfect sync, keeping otherdissenters at bay while I focus on Becky. It’s not hard—these people here are untrained and unhealthy.
“Think about this!” I shout, deflecting another blow from Becky. “You’ve seen me fight. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”
She hesitates, just for a moment. It’s enough. I disarm her, my blade at her throat. The clearing falls silent, save for the sobbing of children.
“Willow!” Bodin’s voice cuts through the night. He bursts into the clearing, eyes wild with worry.
I step back from Becky, lowering my sword.
“It’s okay,” I say to both of them. “No one panic. We’re all okay.”
Bodin grabs my arm, pulling me aside and out of earshot. Becky and the other humans watch, afraid to breathe now that a Radiant has appeared. Her children break free from the haggard man and run to her.
Bodin sees none of it. His voice is low, tense, and solely focused on me. “What were you thinking, running off like that?”
“I was thinking I could handle it,” I snap back, frustration bubbling up.
“You can’t just?—”
“Can’t what? Make decisions? Fight my own battles?”
“That’s not?—”
“Then what? You don’t think I’m capable?”
His jaw clenches. “Of course you’re capable. But you’re also?—”
“Fragile? In need of constant protection?”
“Important!” he growls, eyes flashing. “To the mission. To the hive. To me.”
