Page 55 of Savage Devotion
The doubt in her voice echoes the uncertainty churning in my mind. We're both walking blind through territory we don't understand, guided only by instincts that might lead us toward disaster.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying maybe my uncle is right. Maybe I've let personal attachment cloud my professional responsibilities." Her hand moves toward mine, stopping just short of contact. "Maybe the honorable thing would be to step back before I compromise everything my command is trying to accomplish."
The words pierce between the ribs. Not because she's wrong, she might be entirely correct, but because the thought of walking away from her now, after last night, after everything we've shared, feels like tearing away part of myself.
"Is that what you want?"
"What I want and what's best for my people might be two different things."
Before I can respond, a scream comes from deeper in the canyon. High-pitched, terrified, definitely human. Ressa's head snaps toward the sound, her military training overriding whatever personal crisis we were navigating.
"That came from the supply run. They're not due back for another hour."
We move toward the canyon's edge together, peering down into the shadowed maze below. At first, I see nothing but rocks and scrubby vegetation. Then movement catches my eye as something large and green thrashes between the canyon walls, and the distinctive glint of metal that means weapons or armor.
"Verdant vine-beasts," I breathe.
Ressa's face pales. The creatures are rare but deadly, plant-animal hybrids that burrow through root systems and emerge to feed on anything warm-blooded they encounter. Most terrifying of all, they're drawn to metal, weapons, armor, anything that carries the scent of iron and steel.
Another scream echoes from below, closer now.
"The supply wagon must have taken the canyon route," Ressa says, already moving toward the narrow path that leads downinto the rocky maze. "Shorter but more dangerous. They're trapped."
I grab her arm before she can start the descent. "Wait. You don't have proper gear for fighting those things. The vines are tough as leather, and they move faster than you'd expect."
"Those are my people down there."
"And you'll be dead before you reach them if you go in unprepared." I scan the area quickly, noting our tactical disadvantages. The canyon path is narrow, with no room for maneuvering. The vine-beasts will have home advantage, using the rocky walls to anchor their attacks. And we're both carrying enough metal to draw their attention from a considerable distance.
"There has to be another way down."
"There is." Ressa's voice is grim as she strips off her sword belt, then her mail shirt, the metal rings singing as they hit the ground. "But it means going in light. No armor. Minimal weapons."
I stare at her, understanding dawning with horrifying clarity. "That's suicide."
"It's the only way to help them without painting a target on ourselves." She's already moving, keeping only a single knife with a leather-wrapped handle. "The beasts track by the scent of worked metal. Less metal, less attention."
Another scream from below, weaker this time. Whoever's trapped down there is running out of time.
"I'm coming with you."
"Kaelgor—"
"Don't." I strip off my gear with quick, efficient movements. Battle-ax, mail vest, the ceremonial arm guards that mark my clan rank. "Those are my allies down there too. And you're not going alone."
For a moment, she looks like she wants to argue. Then she nods, and together we start down the narrow path into the canyon's throat.
The screaming stops before we're halfway down.
The silence is worse than the sound had been. That means either the victims escaped, which is unlikely, or something overwhelmed them. Vine-beasts rarely kill quickly unless they're in a feeding frenzy, which means we might already be too late.
The path levels out into a narrow corridor between towering rock walls. Ahead, I can see the overturned supply wagon, its contents scattered across the canyon floor. But no sign of the drivers or the creatures that attacked them.
Ressa moves ahead of me, her remaining knife held low and ready. Without her armor, she looks smaller, more vulnerable, but also more graceful. Each step is calculated, silent, and predatory.
Then, the vines explode from the canyon wall beside her.
