Page 92 of Artemysia
“One of our spies befriended a certain colonel who lost a finger recently. He said a rumored half-Syf assassin would be crossing the woods. We sent Delphine a note warning her not to enter Artemysia.”
Fucking Colonel Jorgen. I should have lopped off his head.
I can’t take it anymore.
I spit out a string of curses at the Syf king, interrupting him. “What the hell do you want with me?”
“You must atone for the number of Syf lives—”
“Did you ensure Delphine’s safety out of the forest? All of you are dead, if she comes to harm. I swear it. I’ll kill you motherfuckers!” I holler, unable to control my temper, my voice reverberating through the forest.
The king signals his guards.
I’ve killed too many of them, and I’m their biggest threat. We all know this. If I were king, if I ruled a kingdom, I’d want to capture and take out an assassin who has murdered hundreds of my people.
But I can’t fight my way out of this one. These monsters are organized, methodical.
From their skilled stances to how they wield their polished weapons, they aren’t the senseless, crazed Syf I’ve encountered so far who come at me one at a time.
Are they a different species? They look the same, though cleaner and better dressed. Their eyes are watchful, aware, intelligent. No rabid screaming. I almost miss the rabid screaming.
These guys are too quiet. Controlled.
I could take out a dozen before being overtaken.Ifthey hadn’t taken my weapons.
Is this the end, then? There was no other way to save the three of them. They must be out of the cave by now. Delphine won’t come for me. She’ll try to complete the mission. It’s the most strategically sound course of action, and she’s always clever enough to make the right decision.
If I make a run for it, I might be able to dodge the Syf among the dense thickets, like I did when I was chased out last time.
Escape. It’s all I can do.
Before I can make a move, my head is covered from behind. I struggle and fight, my fist blindly connecting with a face that shouts out in pain as a nose cracks, but I inhale something smoky and peppery and mossy, like the blue willow trees near Riverheart I used to nap under.
I hold my breath, and my foot connects with someone’s ribcage. I grab what I can, perhaps one of these asshole’s long hair, and yank someone off the strange steed they ride. My wrists are caught and roped from each side, wrenching my hands back as they’re bound behind me.
The sack covering my head tightens around my neck, nearly choking me, and I can’t hold my breath any longer. I gasp in the smoky, herbal scent.
I’m drowsy in an instant and fall forward, my body slumping onto the coarse fur of my elk’s neck.
“I must really care about Riev, that a-hole.” - Delphine
Throg leads us east into the thickest forest I’ve ever seen. The branches above us creak and wind around each other, blocking out the sky. I try not to lose hope.
What would we even do if we catch up to the Syf army? Fight? Negotiate? Lose.
“Why are these Syf so different from the ones we’ve fought for so long?” Ivy asks.
“And why have they hidden their ability to speak all these years?” Throg ponders.
I have no real answers for them. “Did you notice the blunt teeth on the king, not sharp like the usual Syf we fight?” It makes no sense, except…“Could these be completely different Syf, not involved in the war? They dress differently, speak, and appear to be organized. Their weapons are far better than the second-hand swords the others had.”
The two of them discuss their theories. Maybe Syf mutate when they attack? Or do they have ruthless warriors to do their dirty work, like raiding human villages, while a more sophisticated army defends their king?
I remain on guard, lost in thought for the next few leagues.
Could we bargain with the Syf for peace? How do I include Riev’s release in any negotiations? To even begin talks, I’ll need to figure out what motivates the Syf.
The forest is dark and dense, but as we stalk by, the fungi glow like bright lanterns, reacting to our presence. At one point, a long, phantom shadow slithers alongside us for a bit, weaving through the trees a good distance away, but when I ask Throg if he sees anything, it’s gone. What else lives in these woods?
