Fuse, page 15
It was threatening.
Red eyes sat atop its head, and they were trained on Cora. The plump lips of its mouth were trembling, but not in a fearful way. The anger over her presence shook his entire body, and he couldn’t contain it. There wasn’t a single doubt in Cora’s mind that he wanted to murder her.
She discreetly replaced the lid to her canteen and shoved it into her pack, not taking her eyes off the frog that seemed determined to kill her and feed her to his tadpoles.
She slowly rose to her feet and took a step back. “I just wanted some water…”
Its lips stopped trembling but widened in a grimace. Teeth sharper than her dagger emerged, pristine white and lethal. A roar fit for a bear came from its throat, echoing in the clearing.
“Aren’t you supposed to say ribbit, ribbit?”
The amphibian was nearly twice her height, and the power in its hind legs was noticeable in the distinct muscles that formed its size. It crouched hard into the ground then pushed off the surface, flying all the way across the riverbed and directly onto the opposite bank.
“Shit, Flare wasn’t kidding.” She took off at a sprint and ran for the trees.
The sound of its hops thudded behind her, shaking the ground with every landing.
Of all the ways she thought she would die, she never thought she would be killed by a tree frog.
She couldn’t wield her sword because she might contract the poison from her blade. Coming into contact with it would end her life immediately. How did you kill something without touching it?
She wanted to smack herself upside the head.
She armored her bow and yanked the arrow out of her quiver as fast as possible. The arrow fit against the string, and she pulled her arm back in preparation for the shot. If she missed, she wouldn’t get another chance. She would be frog food.
She skidded to a halt on the grass and turned around. Her arms scraped against the dirt and caused a painful burn. A cry escaped her clenched jaw, but she didn’t lose her focus. The evil frog prepared its hind legs for a final leap, the pounce of death.
She released the arrow and watched it penetrate the monster right between the eyes. The slime covering its skin splashed out as the arrow dug deep inside its skull. The redness in his eyes died like a blown-out candle, and he fell forward into an ungraceful roll, stopping just a few feet from Cora.
A stitch burned in her side, and adrenaline was still heavy in her blood. Her heart was about to give out from both the effort and the fear. She was as careful as possible, but an enormous beast had still managed to sneak up on her.
She placed her bow across her back then lay on the grass, recovering from the near-death experience. Once her breathing had returned to normal, she walked to the frog and looked down at its corpse.
The arrow protruded out of its skull, the red feather tip moving slightly in the breeze. She knew she should leave the arrow behind because it was infected with deadly poison, but she couldn’t spare it. One arrow might make all the difference when it came to life and death.
She slowly pulled the arrow from the skull, doing her best not to flick bits of poison onto her clothes or skin. The moist slime covering it had a shadowed tint, emitting a sign of danger to anyone who looked at it.
The arrow contained bits of frog brains, so Cora rubbed it off on the lush grass. The stench burned her nose, causing her to grimace and feel nauseated. “Yuck.” She wrapped the arrow with a clean cloth before she returned it to her quiver. If the poison spread to the remaining arrows, she wouldn’t be able to touch any of them—at least not without dying herself.
The familiar feeling of being watched fell on her shoulders, and she looked up to see a gathering of tree frogs near the bank. They were all different colors, some pastel blue while others were pink. Their skin shone from a layer of poison their bodies constantly produced. It gleamed in the sunlight, acting as a warning to anyone with eyes. Their eyes were all the same color—fiery red.
She didn’t have enough arrows.
Their demeanor wasn’t threatening like the other frog she’d annihilated. They crouched to get a better look at her, but none of them chased her down. Quiet ribbits escaped their throats, speaking to one another in their own language. They cocked their heads from left to right, moving like curious birds.
“Okay…”
Even though there were more of them than there were of her, they stayed back. Fear might have kept them in place. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Cora didn’t stick around to find out.
She took off.
The trees thinned, and the underbrush became nonexistent. Vegetation was scarce, and the stream curved around and headed in the opposite direction, originating in the mountains.
Now, all that was left was the desert.
She didn’t know how long the sand would last. She could barely see the mountains on the other side. No living creature could cross the stretch unless they had a wagon full of water barrels.
Could she make it?
She only had a single canteen, and there was no way it would last, not under direct sunlight. Her only option was to eat food dense with water along the way.
But could anything survive out there?
She decided to camp out in the trees for the day until the sun went down. It would be better to travel in the dark, to decrease water evaporation, than to travel under the blistering sun.
Her heart hadn’t slowed down after the attack with the frog. With one obstacle completed, there was another one to replace it. She would never admit it out loud, but she missed Flare. He always knew where to go and how to do things. He’d probably have a solution for the desert problem if he were there.
But she needed to figure it out on her own.
When the sun sank behind the mountains, she made her move. She didn’t need a torch to guide her because there was nothing in her path anyway. All she needed to do was walk as far as possible until the sun rose the next day. She’d bury herself in the sand for protection from the sun until the night returned.
The sand moved under her boots with every step she took. It was unique in its composition, nothing like stone or dirt. If she distributed her weight in the wrong way, the sand would slip from underneath her feet.
The desert was more silent than the forest because there were no trees to sway in the wind and no birds to chirp to the moon. It was a wasteland of nothingness.
When she heard a sound, she stopped in her tracks. It was familiar—something she’d heard just the day before.
Ribbit.
She looked over her shoulder but only saw a black wall. She couldn’t even see the tip of her nose because it was so dark. When she held her hands in front of her face, there was nothing there.
Ribbit.
She heard it again, and this time, she knew it was real. Only one thing would make that noise.
The poisonous frogs.
They were following her out into the desert, risking their own lives just to claim hers. Would she be able to stop and sleep on the way? Or would she be chased the entire time?
Why didn’t she steal a horse? She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. If the opportunity to acquire a horse presented itself, she would take it.
Ribbit, ribbit.
“Ugh.” She had no chance of survival now. How could she hit her mark when she couldn’t see the ground beneath her feet? Her only option was to run and hope she made it to the other side before they made it to her.
The sky turned pink with the expectant sunrise. The air temperature picked up slightly, already warming even though the sun hadn’t yet arrived. Cora needed to sleep and get out of the deadly rays. Every drop of moisture in her body was vital, and she couldn’t afford to lose a single ounce.
Or she might die.
The sound of the frogs had died away, but that didn’t mean they’d retreated back to the river. She glanced over her shoulder in the hope of seeing nothing but a dry desert, but instead saw them lined up together, their throats protruding out while they breathed.
“Dammit.”
She put her hands on her hips and tried to appear as menacing as possible. “Shoo!” She held up her sword and pointed it to the sky.
They didn’t move forward or backward. They kept their position in line, their red eyes reflecting the approaching sunlight. There was an invisible line none of them would cross. The frog she had killed didn’t hide the fact that he sought murder. But with these guys, it was hard to tell.
“Show’s over,” she called. “There’s nothing to see.”
In sync, they started to ribbit. Their deep bellows reached her even across the desert. Instead of sounding like a song, it felt like an alarm. They hopped in place but didn’t leap forward.
“Weirdos…” She turned around and prepared to continue forward.
High in the sky were two distinct black shapes. They were headed right toward her, the sun shining behind them. Winged steeds that resembled horses flew elegantly across the sun, despite their blackness. As soon as the sun peeked over the mountains, they spotted her.
The ribbits increased in volume, growing more frantic. Were they trying to warn her?
The assailants drew near, and their identity was unmistakable. Black leather pants clung to their legs, and their black tunics contained the same shine of the fabric. Black greaves led to black gloves. The dark tunics covered their chests and hid their faces in shadow.
The Shamans.
Her first instinct was to run, but there was nowhere to hide. If she retreated, she’d be swallowed by a sea of dangerous frogs. Even if they weren’t there, she wouldn’t get far.
She had to fight.
Knowing she was stepping into a futile fight was disheartening. All she could hope to do was cause the worst pain imaginable before they put her in her grave. She armed her bow and drew the first arrow her fingers touched. The cloth covering the poisonous tip fell to the ground at her feet.
Cora didn’t know if the poison would be effective against these unnatural creatures. She suspected it wouldn’t have any effect at all but hoped it would burn like hell.
She aimed for the Shaman on the left and released.
The arrow launched and flew through the air with incredible speed. It punctured the Shaman in the center of his chest, dangerously close to where his heart would be if he had one, and caused the Shaman to falter in his saddle.
He tipped over and fell twenty feet to the ground, his body making a loud thump when he hit the hard earth.
Cora held her breath as she waited for the Shaman to stir. A simple arrow couldn’t have taken him down, but her heart hoped for a miracle.
He didn’t move.
The second Shaman released a loud cry, a piercing noise that made her grit her teeth in protest. The sound came straight from the underworld. It released a second cry, and Cora covered her ears because it was too painful to hear.
It swooped down from the sky and landed beside its fallen comrade. The Shaman felt his chest and shook him violently. A series of clicks and guttural sounds emitted from the shadowed hood.
It was the creepiest thing she’d ever seen.
The Shaman released his brethren then slowly turned his head toward her. He stared her down from inside his dark hood. Invisible eyes bored into hers and burned of death.
Slowly, Cora lifted her bow again.
Another ear-splitting scream erupted from deep within his hood before he jumped to his feet.
She pulled an arrow from the quiver and placed it hard against the string. She didn’t have another poisonous arrow, but her heart felt lighter knowing they could be killed after all.
He raised his palm then unleashed his power.
“Agh!” Cora dropped her weapon and fell to her knees. The pressure in her skull made her writhe in agony. Everything was caving in, forcing her head to explode. She couldn’t think about anything other than the pain. Death was preferable to the torture she felt, and she’d only endured it for a few seconds.
He marched forward with his palm still raised and gave her another dose.
She fell to her back and rolled around in the dust, flapping her hands as she pointlessly tried to avoid it. The pain was coming from inside her body, not the outside. There was nothing to fight. All she could do was suffer.
The Shaman approached her, his boots grinding against the sand, and he stopped when he was just above her. He pushed his hand toward her, increasing the force of the torture.
“Stop!” Her back arched toward the sky.
The Shaman inched his hand toward her face, the black glove reeking ominously of death.
“Agh!”
When his palm touched her face, she was about to lose her mind. Her brain was boiling, rotting in her skull. Lightning bolts echoed inside her head. All she knew was excruciating pain. Blades stabbed every inch of her all at the same time. She would do anything to make it stop—anything at all.
And then the world went black.
Eighteen
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Her head pounded with a migraine more explosive than a bubbling volcano. It was fiery and hot, and the constant pulse was enough to drive anyone to pure madness. The throbbing was the worst part. It pressed against both of her temples like the blood was trying to find a way out of her skull.
It was as if someone had stepped on her head with a boot made of jagged nails.
Slowly, the previous events came back to her mind. She could think more clearly now that her skull wasn’t being burned to coal. The Shaman had placed his hand over her face and gave her a jolt that almost killed her.
But she wasn’t dead—not yet anyway.
She opened her eyes slightly, wanting to see the world without telling anyone she was awake. Her eyes moved to a tiny window near the ceiling. Black bars intersected it even though it was too small to climb through.
Her wrists were bound together. She could feel the burn of the rope every time she moved. Without any further information, she knew she’d been tied up for some time.
Her back lay against cold stone. Judging by the placement of the window and the throbbing pain in her back, she was lying on the floor in a cell. The oil in her hair told her she hadn’t been bathed or taken care of in any regard. Her mouth was parched and dry, and her tongue felt like cotton picked right from the plant.
Her eyes opened wider, and she examined her holding cell. The small room was constructed of blue stone. It reflected a metallic sheen that glinted in the dying light from the window. Her best guess told her it was the end of the day.
The wooden door was blood red with a sliding window near the top. Black bars, similar to the ones on the window, separated their prisoner from the water. She stared at her cell and knew there was no way for her to escape.
It was hopeless.
The door opened, and a man wearing a guard’s uniform walked inside. Without a helmet, his face was visible. He looked to be a few years older than her, but the look in his eyes said he was much fouler. “You’ve been out for a while.”
She wouldn’t give in to his taunts. He was a cat playing with his food, picking it apart until there was hardly anything left, before he finally ate it. “That’s what happens when someone boils your brain.” She stared at the ceiling and tried to forget about the throbbing sensation in her skull.
He smiled, but it was grotesque. “The steward was very happy to hear of your visit. He’s been waiting for you to wake up.”
“Well, today’s his lucky day.” Her bound hands rested on her stomach. She was already bored of this man and the conversation.
“I’m Rune, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you—a real pleasure.”
The way he said those words rubbed her the wrong way. She knew a creep when she saw one. “I’m sure you already know who I am.”
“Cora.” He said her name slowly, like he was savoring each syllable. “Yes.”
“So…why haven’t you killed me yet?” She had no idea where she was or the terrain of the fortress. Even if she wanted to escape, she had no idea where to go. Death was the only option at that point.
“Kill you?” That disgusting smile spread across his lips. “Why on earth would we do that?”
“Because I killed one of your hounds.” And she’d liked it. Too bad she hadn’t killed the other one.
“Oh yes. Shadow wasn’t happy about that.”
“Shadow?” She couldn’t restrain herself from laughing. “That’s really his name? That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His eyebrows furrowed, the first sign of irritation. “That’s the name we’ve given him—because we can’t pronounce his real one.”
She chuckled again. “You couldn’t do better than that?”
Striking like a snake, he slapped her hard across the face.
She turned with the hit but didn’t react. In fact, the smile was still on her lips. “That’s the best you can do? A little girl could slap harder than that.”
He slapped her again, using his entire body to gain momentum.
Again, she didn’t react. Maybe if she pissed him off enough, he would kill her. “Wuss…”
He gripped her by the throat and squeezed. Her air supply was immediately cut off, and she was thankful for it. If he held her long enough, she would choke to death. It would end quickly.
But he released her. “Shadow isn’t happy you killed his twin brother. In fact, he tried to kill you because of it.”
“When?” All he did was hold her down and torture her.
“The Skull Crusher.” His eyes glinted ominously. “No one ever survives that move. But somehow, you did. Very strange…” Like she was an intriguing specimen, he watched her with interest.
He’d tried to kill her? And she survived? She kept her mouth shut because she refused to say the wrong thing. Questions came to mind, but they never passed over her tongue.
“And we’re very interested in finding out what kind of powers you have.”
“Powers?” she asked. “I have none.”
“Really?” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing on her face. “A hybrid—half human and half elf. I’ve never seen that before.”
