Page 14 of Blaze

The sky is gray, dawn creeping across the sky, red-orange, instead of the pale pinks and blues of ordinary sunrise. There are shapes moving through thick fog, approaching from the east. War elephants, giants, hellhounds, and other creatures I can’t make out. My heart leaps into my throat, sticking like a piece of dry food as I realize what I’m watching. The hulking figure in the front has to be Morningstar, leading his army into battle. I suddenly feel faint. Gods and goddesses, have I been played for a fool again, and these hellhounds are merely running me in circles so I’m not where I’m needed when Morningstar attacks? It will take all ten Chosen to defeat Morningstar’s assault on Fantasia, and here I am, mucking around in a place between worlds, gaping at everything like a landbound fish. Have they been waving shiny objects before my eyes to keep me distracted?

I whip around to face Maddox, who has been walking just ahead of me the entire time, an accusation on my tongue. Despite the fact that he was the hellhound who captured and bound me, I find that I like him the best of his pack. He’s at least forthright, which is more than I can say for Axion or Ransom, who skulk behind us like petulant boys. But I don’t find Maddox in front of me. In fact, I’m not surewhatdirection I’m facing. The world has listed violently to the right, my head spinning like I’ve been clubbed over the head. The ground beneath my feet feels slippery, and I careen toward the open blackness that seems to stretch toward infinity.

And then a hand closes around mine, jerking me upright forcefully, planting my feet on solid ground. The world spins alarmingly again, and I swallow back bile. When my vision clears, I find Axion inches away from me. He’s pulled me flush to his body, using his grip on my hand to keep me in place. His expression is thunderous.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, voice practically a snarl.

I bristle at the tone and jerk my hand away. I sway, but back away when he tries to steady me. I jab the shard of crystalline material at him accusingly.

“Are you lying to me again?” I demand.

I don’t know why I bother. If heislying to me, he’s not likely to tell me, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question. Something flashes very briefly through his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Then it’s gone and he’s his usual stern self, glowering at me. I can see why he’s king. I’m a Chosen, but even I feel like a peasant withering under his stare. The sheer amount of authority in his eyes and posture makes lesser men cringe.

“What would I possibly have to lie about?” he asks, still half-growling at me. “You almost fell into the abyss because you were staring at thatthingin your hand. You should be thanking me for saving your sorry pelt, not accusing me of deceit.”

Was he right? I hadn’t felt myself falling until I’d looked up from the scene in the crystal. If he hadn’t caught me, I might have toppled off, and then where would I have been? Lost in space? Floating forever, or at least until I impacted another branch of the world tree. Could I fall into a different reality than my own? If I did, how would I get back? If I landed on a branch, how would I know what direction to go to reach home? All I’m left with is a bunch of questions with no answers.

Still, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he has a point until he answers my question. I wave the crystal at him again.

“I saw a battle in Delerood in this. That battle is going on now, and here you are—dragging me in the other direction. If Morningstar is attacking, I have to be there. It will take more than one of us to take him down. Delerood is depending on us.”

A sigh draws my attention to Maddox. He’s watching us, face pinched with concern, as though we’re about to go for each other’s throats. For all I know, Axion wants to do just that. He seems ill-tempered enough to try.

“The battle won’t take place for a few day’s time, Blaze. That’s a reflection of a twilight vision, something thatwillhappen but hasn’t yet.”

“Then?”

“Time isn’t linear here.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Furthermore, I don’t recommend using the crystal while we’re walking a branch. It’s disorienting to look into a past, present, or future that isn’t yours. Look too long and you’ll actually slip into another person’s mind. Perhaps several people’s minds. When we’re settled back in Fantasia or find a more secure place than this, you can look to your heart’s content. For now, just follow me, please.”

I narrow my eyes at him. I can’t tell if he’s telling the truth. His face is open and sincere, and he’s been forthright so far (I think) but... no, I don’t trust any of these men. But what else can I do but follow him? Either I end up in Ascor or I don’t. Clearly, I can’t wander alone. I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at the star-spangled sky rather than any of my companions.

“Fine. But can we hurry this up? I have a job to do.”

###

Ascor looks deceptively dark and plain after our jaunt in the space between worlds. The stars are mere pinpricks, the colors of the buildings muted in comparison to the rainbows that hung in the air all around us while treading along the tree. Nothing moves in the night air, save the flapping of laundry hung between buildings. Conversely, the city smells absolutelyfoulafter being outside of the realm for even an hour or two. I never realized how many scents human beings put off until I experienced the lack of them. Rotting fruits and vegetables in trash heaps, excrement leaking from broken sewage pipes, the smell of animals and unwashed people, and something that I can’t quite identify. A pollutant in the air that makes it harder to breathe after the clear, scentless place I’ve stepped out of.

The men (I catch myself thinkingmymen at first and shake the stupid out of myself) have resumed their hellhound forms, though they’ve all but doused the flames on their backs. That was for my benefit, so I could ride on Ransom’s back the last few miles of the journey. I’d had another dizzy spell, and Axion had been forced to catch me... again. I can’t tell if he’s put off or amused by my shortcomings. Perhaps a bit of both, and I hate him for it.

I sigh. No, that’s a lie. Idon’thate him, but I reallyshould.No matterwhat he tells me, he and his people still wreaked havoc on my home during both wars, regardless of how willing their participation was. I’ve been hunted down by hellhounds more times than I can count, and it’s always terrifying. But if he’s telling the truth, they’re as much victims in this war as we are. Can I really fault him for doing what’s necessary to get home? I would probably do the same or worse in his place. Guild life hasn’t left my moral fabric intact. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of—especially in times of war. I could probably come to respect Axion with enough time. But... gods, hepissesme off with his superior attitude. Someone should not get to bethatattractive and self-assured.

There’s a tension crackling like flames in the air between the three men, and I don’t understand what it could be. A paranoid part of me wants to chalk it up to some plot to kill me. But if that’s the case, why wait? They’ve had me at their mercy and failed to rip my throat out. Maybe it’s just the sensible wariness of pacing through an enemy stronghold. Queen Carmine has turned Ascor in favor of the Guild, but I don’t think that’s it either. Their moods shifted when my dress slipped and revealed the imprint of Ransom’s teeth on my shoulder, and the markings the healing had left on my skin. Maybe he’s broken some kind of unspoken hellhound rule by leaving a mark on me.

I don’t have long to ponder it. We’re a mile out from the castle when, without warning, a shape dives down from a neighboring building, landing where Ransom’s head had been only seconds before. A blade gleams silver in the moonlight, thin and sharpened to a deadly point. I recognize the slightly curved weapon from Beacon’s sword fighting lessons. It’s a saber, and its sweeping up to guard position again as its owner comes easily to his feet, turning the dive into a forward roll. He missed his target, failing to part Ransom’s head from his shoulders. But he has wounded him. There’s a line of jagged red running from Ransom’s mid-back to the tip of his tail.

Axion rounds on the attacker, teeth bared in a defiant snarl. The flames on his back and legs burst into brilliant life as he readies himself to spring, filling the street with the unmistakable smell of sulfur. Maddox is doing the same on the king’s other side. He’s smaller, but from what I can tell, faster and more maneuverable than either of his companions. In the flickering light, I can finally make out the sword’s wielder.

He’s as lean and angular as the blade he holds. His snowy hair is long and pulled into a braid. There’s a stripe of vivid blue color threading through it, eye-catching in this light. He’s handsome in a haughty sort of way that I might have found intriguing before I met Ransom. For reasons only the gods can understand, I still find myself attracted to the hellhound. I want to feel his cock in me again, to have him take me, breathe my name, fill me with his magic once more. Wanting and feeling wanted is a heady thing.

But what catches my eye most is the signet ring on the man’s right hand, depicting a small bird in flight. A huntsman. This man is a huntsman. Gods, we’re lucky he misjudged his aim, or I’d be short a companion!

A voice from behind us speaks, and I whirl to face it, surprise to find more men behind us, one on either side of the road, forming a sort of triangle with us in the middle. One of them is broad and thickly muscled, and the last a medium between the first and second. The bulky one has brown hair, run through with a stripe of red. He has a chain scythe stretched between his hands, ready to loose it if we make any sudden moves. He’s leaning forward, eager for a fight. The last one is dark-haired and somber, with a chakkar clutched in the fingers of one hand. A hand with a signet ring on it. Are they all huntsmen?

“You’ve trespassed on Her Majesty Queen Carmine’s lands, you foul beasts. If your master wanted to harm her, he should have sent a larger delegation.”

Axion’s growl increases in volume, shaking the air around us. I step in front of him before he can leap at the man speaking. I don’t care who he is, I just know that he’s on our side. Queen Carmine is rumored to travel with three huntsmen as her guards, and according to some accounts, her lovers.

Maddox retrieved my cloak for me and gave it to me to wear during the journey. I’ve kept it turned inside out, rather than the bright scarlet that might draw eyes to our position. I’m regretting that now. Ransom’s nickname for me wasn’t entirely wrong. The red cloak is what I’m best known for in the Guild. Hook had called me ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ one night over drinks. I’d punched him hard for it. If these men have heard of me, it’s by reputation, not my name.

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